Christmas in His Bed

“Breathe,” Patton reminded him.

“I’m breathing,” he snapped.

But he couldn’t look away. Tatum’s smile. Dean’s startled, but very pleased, expression.

“Go,” Patton said. “Mom’ll kick your ass if you started a fight.”

He nodded, moving across the room as unobtrusively as possible. So why did it feel like everyone was staring at him?

He threw his truck into gear and drove into town, heading straight for Zeke’s gym. It was late and the weather was bad, but there were plenty of guys willing to spar with him. After a quick warm-up he climbed into the ring and cut loose.

They had to take turns, giving him just enough time to catch his breath, stop whatever was bleeding and go again. When the gym closed at midnight, he drove to his mother’s and the beat-up sleeper sofa in the near-arctic garage. Hell, at this point, it didn’t matter where he slept as long as he could sleep. No matter what, he’d feel like total shit in the morning.

He hadn’t been expecting to find his brothers waiting for him on the front porch.

He put the truck in Park and climbed the steps.

“Need a place to sleep?” Patton asked.

“Nah.” He shook his head. “Garage.”

“It’s freaking cold,” Zach said. “Let’s go.”

Spencer nodded, leading them into the garage and flipping on the lights. Folding chairs were located, a space heater was plugged in and Zach produced a large bottle of whiskey.

“Go to Zeke’s?” Patton asked, pulling cups from their camping gear.

He nodded. “Is it bad?”

Zach and Patton exchanged looks.

“Make for some interesting wedding pictures,” Zach said, laughing.

Spencer sighed. “Dammit.”

Patton shrugged. “Fine by me.” He poured out drinks.

There was a comfortable silence as they all knocked back their alcohol.

“Dean wanted to come,” Zach offered, earning a hard glance from Patton.

“Not his fault,” Spencer said, emptying the glass. “It’s me.”

Patton sipped his drink, flopping into one of the chairs and scooting closer to the heater. “Bad?”

He nodded.

“She hasn’t really been here long enough for you to screw it up that bad.” Zach sat in one of the other chairs.

He paced, the whiskey and the cold keeping him moving. “I screwed up. The sort of long-term, psychological shit that takes years to get over. And even if she gets over it, chances are she’s never going to love me.”

“And that’s what we want?” Zach clarified.

“Yes, Zach.” Patton sighed. “Do you listen to a thing I say?”

“No, not really.” Zach smiled.

Spencer chuckled. “Remember our breakup?” he asked.