“You guys all right?” Houston muttered without taking his eyes off the TV. I knew he’d heard every word.
“I’m not sure this is going to work,” I admitted in defeat.
I could feel Houston’s gaze as I stared at the ground. “It’s only been a day, Jericho. We can’t know for sure.”
Loren was shirtless when he came out of the bathroom and wisely kept Houston between us as he sat on the couch.
The conceited ass kept checking his nose, and I knew it was to make sure it wasn’t crooked. I heard the shower cut off in the bedroom and forced myself to follow my own plan by staying put. Loren began to roll up as we watched TV, and after a few tokes, he passed it to Houston, who surprisingly accepted. I was next, and just like that, a rotation began.
So much for sobriety.
Back then, we indulged here and there to keep moving when life was just too much to handle sober. It wasn’t until Calvin was beyond saving that we realized we couldn’t bear losing each other that way. It wouldn’t be quick. It wouldn’t be sudden. It would be slow and agonizing. It meant being helpless while one or all of us withered away. I hated Everill’s guts, and it had still ripped me apart to see him destroy himself.
So we gave it all up—the weed, the pills, the alcohol, and the coke.
My stomach had been in knots ever since Loren started back drinking. Now that he was smoking as well, I wondered if it was too late. Our lives aren’t nearly as hectic now as it had been when we were building our name, and we’d never developed a dependency like Calvin, but the fear and the possibility were still very real.
“Should we be doing this?” I blurted when I felt my lids begin to lower.
“We’ve been smoking since we were pups. If it were going to ruin our lives, it would have done so by now,” Loren reasoned. “Besides, Calvin’s not around to talk us into the harder shit.”
“We can’t put all the blame on a dead man. He didn’t force us to say yes, Lo.”
“No,” he returned while meeting my eyes. “He just made sure it was always around.”
I didn’t bother trying to argue him down. Loren was determined to be the victim, and it was nearly impossible to change his mind once it was set.
It wasn’t until I was into my high that I realized that it’d been years since we tolerated each other enough to be in the same room for longer than five minutes.
Had to be the weed.
I would have smiled had Braxton not made an appearance.
She didn’t seem bothered by our smoking, but perhaps it was because she was determined to ignore us. I watched from the corner of my eye as she warmed up her portion of the food the chefs had left for us. Sticking to the plan, Houston pulled out a deck of cards and started dealing while Loren whooped and rubbed his hands together.
“What’s the bet tonight, boys?”
A pang of nostalgia hit me like a lightning strike.
Frustrated, I shook it away. I didn’t want to hope. I snatched up my cards when Houston was done dealing, only to tense when Braxton sat next to me with her dinner. There was a table, but she’d chosen the couch. I didn’t want to think about what that meant. As she settled in, Loren immediately ashed the joint and waved the smoke away. Braxton was careful not to sit too close, but I could smell her soap, or maybe her shampoo, and that was enough. For now.
There was no forgetting how it felt to be inside her.
“Does anyone mind if I change the channel?” she asked us while reaching for the remote.
Houston, without giving her his full attention, nodded his consent.
“Thanks.” She channel surfed for a while before settling on a movie.
When we saw she’d chosen The Legend of Tarzan with Alexander Skarsgård, Loren snorted. I sent him a warning look, and he piped the fuck down.
Pretending not to hear him, Braxton closed her eyes, and I watched as her lips moved in silent prayer. My eyes bucked as I looked on because I’d never taken her for religious.
The moment her eyes opened, I looked away, and she immediately dug into her shrimp scampi. It looked good as hell, and I felt my stomach tighten. The only problem was that I only had a taste for her.
Near the end of the movie, when the villain was leading Tarzan into a trap using his girl, my phone chimed once, signaling I had a text. Houston’s phone had also gone off at the same time.
Frowning, I checked the screen and saw that it was a message from Loren in our group chat.
Lo: I bet if one of us yells like Tarzan, Brax will be so turned on she talks to us.