Page 67 of On Your Knees

“He’s more than your driver,” I press.

“He’s my friend.”

“He’s more than that.”

“It’s complicated, Levi.”

“Do you have sex with him?”

“No.”

“But you have sex with other people. In the playroom.”

Ethan scrubs at his face like he’s tired.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Just leave me here, please.”

I roll onto my other side, putting my back to him, hating what I’ve asked for. I’ve asked him to leave when it’s the last thing I want. But it’s what I deserve.

The covers lift, and Ethan slides into the bed behind me. He pulls me against him, my back to his front. His arms wrap around me. I start crying again because I want this so much and I know I don’t deserve it. I both love and hate that I’m getting it. His attention. His touch. His… caring.

He says, “I’m really sorry, Levi. I’m sorry I was shitty to you when you came to the church. I’m sorry I was… fuck, I don’t know what I was, but I didn’t take care of you. For days and days. And then… all the rest of it. Fuck, all the goddamn rest of it. I’m sorry.”

I roll over in his arms so I can hug him back. I sob against him as he holds onto me. I don’t even have an exact reason to be crying. I’m just tired and depressed. Ethan pets my hair.

He says, “You deserve to be taken care of. You deserve better than me.”

“No,” I reply and hold tighter to him.

“I didn’t say I was going to give you up. You’re mine, Levi. You don’t get to leave me, especially not like that. Do you understand?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Baby, you don’t have to be sorry. I just want you to tell me that you understand.”

I nod.

He pets my hair. He holds onto me for a long while. When his dick gets hard, he mutters, “Fuck.”

My dick stirs slightly. Not a lot, but it could. I ask, “Do you want to have sex?”

“I want to have breakfast. With you.”

A weak smile pulls at my lips. “Okay.”

We go back down to the kitchen, where Patrick is making French toast. Ethan pauses in the doorway like he’s just remembered that his dick is hard, and it’s very obvious in his sweatpants.

Patrick’s eyes flick up from his work at the stove. “You know it’s okay, Ethan. Don’t worry about it.”

Ethan sighs in either relief or frustration. He’s acting so strangely with Patrick. He’s not usually like this. But then… Patrick isn’t usually in charge, and he definitely is right now.

I swallow hard as my insecurities swamp me again. Ethan said he doesn’t have sex with Patrick, but… that doesn’t mean he never has.

Maybe it doesn’t matter. I know it’s not my business. I’m just tired. I’m reacting to everything.

Like he senses that, Ethan pets my hair. I take a deep breath and walk with him to the coffeepot. There are two mugs beside it, plus sugar and some diner-style containers of half-and-half.

“The cream was bad,” Patrick explains. “I’ll pick some shit up later. Clothes too. What size, Levi?”