Dax (The Theriot Family 4)

Dax studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. But we’re going to talk later.”

Not if I snuck out of there.

I hadn’t had my favorite sausage in years, and it was as good as I remembered it. Dax’s pancakes were fluffy and perfectly textured, and the eggs were cooked through without being dry, just like I liked them. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”

Beau had cooked for us growing up. There was nothing wrong with his cooking, but all of it was simple and serviceable. This was a restaurant-quality breakfast.

“Marjorie.”

“She’s Corbin’s mom?”

“Yes, and Remy and Lance’s stepmom. She taught all of us how to cook, but some of us paid more attention than others, and I took every chance I could to have her teach me.”

“This is amazing. I wish I could make food like this or that I had someone to make it for me.”

“I already said you can stay as long as you need to. I’ll cook for you while you’re here.”

Damn. As if he wasn’t hot enough, now he was offering me a beautiful home and amazing food. Could I accept his offer?

No. I couldn’t hang around here mooning over him. And if he brought a man back here, I’d want to murder whoever it was. I didn’t want to think about Dax with someone else. The longer I stayed here, the more I was in danger of thinking Dax could be mine.

I rose from the table to refill my coffee, but Dax took the mug from my hand. “I’ll get you some water.”

“Are you this bossy with everyone?”

“Most people just do what I say because they know what’s good for them. You need to drink some water.”

“I—”

“It’s nonnegotiable. You can have more coffee afterward.”

“Yes, sir.” His eyes widened for a moment. He liked that. And I had to admit that having Dax dominate me sounded delicious. Would it be so bad to let him tell me what to do?

Dax schooled his face and didn’t say anything, which was for the best. He went to the fridge, pulled out a filter pitcher, and poured me a glass of water.

I drained half of it as soon as he handed it to me, then went back to silently finishing my food.

“Have you thought about staying in the city?” Dax asked a few minutes later.

I shook my head. “Not really. I don’t think there’s anything here for me.”

“I could help you find a job. Do you have a place to go back to?”

“I had a shit hole of an apartment, but I skipped out weeks ago and didn’t pay my last rent, so I won’t be going back there. My manager at the place I was working made it clear I wasn’t welcome to return since I disappeared without warning.”

“See? You need a fresh start.”

“I need a job and an apartment.” He made it sound so easy, like I could just pick something I wanted to do and I would magically have an entirely new life. I knew better. My life had been fucked up for a long time. Some of that wasn’t my fault, but plenty of it was, and I didn’t believe in miracles.

At that moment I just wanted to go lie down. I wasn’t actually feeling tired, though I was sure I should be. What I needed most was to get away from Dax, away from his hopefulness, away from his perfect body, away from the memories of how well he treated me when I was a kid. He was never the one to brush me off or send me away. One time he even carried me on his back when I got tired of walking.

“Thank you for breakfast or dinner or whatever this was.”

Dax was watching me thoughtfully, but his expression was neutral. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but I didn’t dare. I just carried my dishes to the sink.

“Sleep well, Travis.” His voice was so soft I barely heard it.

“You too.”

I thought I heard him mutter “I wish,” but I kept walking.

I lay in the bed tossing and turning, thinking about Dax being so close and about what the hell I was going to do now. I did need to start over. Dax was right about that, but how could I have a fresh start when all my choices seemed as stale as they had since the day I’d left rehab to face life with no good prospects and no more ways to hide from reality.

For the last four years, my life had been stagnant, just a series of meaningless jobs and meaningless places with no friends that stuck around. Most people I met turned out to be junkies or were too disturbed by my past. And sex? I’d hardly even been interested. For a long time, I felt like I was waiting for something.