Teacher - Voyeur

Stretching my neck, I cleared my throat before answering. Regret over thinking I could talk about this without ridicule washed over me. “No. We had another drink at the bar and talked for a while.”

“Talked?” Jackson muttered. “What the fuck.”

Kent slapped the bar and barked a loud laugh, drawing eyes our way. “Did you at least go home and jack off to thoughts of her?”

No, because I hadn’t even made it home. I’d run to the restroom before meeting her at the bar and came in less than five minutes like some kid with his first boner. I’d refused to think of her as I stroked myself roughly. That wasn’t the relationship we were forming. But no matter how hard I tried, a vague petite brunette with full breasts and lips formed behind my closed lids.

“Jesus Christ, Kent. She’s a trauma survivor. Not some girl I plan to fuck.”

He leaned his elbow on the bar, resting his chin on his palm, giving me his full attention, waiting to catch me in a lie. “Why not?”

“Because she needs a friend, not a hookup.”

“It looks like she’s trying to prepare for a hookup. So, why not you? Do a little contact therapy.”

I scoffed, turning back to finish my beer, but his words had merit. She was trying to get comfortable with touch, and she was already comfortable with me, so why not try with me. I’d heard people use contact therapy when facing their fears. I wasn’t sure if anyone used it for sexual abuse, but I made sure to pocket it away to look up later. For now, Kent needed to realize I wasn’t trying to get with Hanna in any way outside of helping her.

“Because I’m not that guy. She feels comfortable around me. All the other guys in her life are acquaintances, her brother, or Ian, who’s like her brother.” I pointed at my chest, fully facing him now. “I can be the man who helps her. I can be the friend she needs.”

Kent’s smile slipped for the first time since we started talking, and he sat up. “I’m seeing a bit of the old Daniel coming out. The one that wanted to save all the girls.”

His light tone did nothing but poke at old memories.

“Daniel, she’s pulling you down. We’re in our sophomore year. You going to keep sacrificing the best years of our lives?”

“She’s just having a rough week. She’s not always like this.”

Kent pursed his lips, doubt etched on every inch of his face.

“You’ve known her for a few months, I’ve known her for years,” I defended. “She’s my girlfriend and friends help each other. They don’t back off when it’s hard.”

“I know that, but lately, she seems more hard than not. Maybe she should talk to someone about it.”

“She talks to me. I’m all she needs.”

I reached across the bar for the bourbon and a glass, downing the drink before pouring another. “I’m just trying to help her out.”

The loud, laughing patrons enjoying their dinner were nothing compared to all the silent words between Kent and me. I couldn’t look at him, knowing what I’d see on his face. Instead, I opted to study the amber liquid filling my glass.

“She’s not Sabrina, D,” Kent finally said softly.

“I know that,” I snapped, jerking my angry gaze his way. I hated when he brought her up. I hated what hearing her name brought up.

“Who’s Sabrina?” Jackson asked.

“Fuck,” I muttered. I didn’t want to talk about this.

“She was Daniel’s girlfriend in high school and college. Only girl he ever cared about, even if she was pretty crazy-pants.”

I slapped the bar, growling, “Don’t say that.”

“Sorry.” He cleared his throat, and regret clouded his eyes. “Either way, she didn’t make it out of college, and Daniel blames himself.” He exhaled the explanation like it hadn’t defined my future.

“I don’t blame myself.”

“Okay,” he said, his tone condescending.

“Fuck you.”

“Uh, let’s stop there,” Jackson cut in.

He knew Kent and I could go at it like any brothers could, and probably didn’t want a brawl in his bar. I didn’t want one either.

Kent took a deep breath and sat back. “Seriously, I don’t want you to get so entwined in someone else’s problems again.”

“Kent, you know I don’t do serious.” Running my hand through my hair, I faced him, letting him see my sincerity. “I’m just being a nice guy with some free time. Why not spend it with a beautiful girl who’s pretty funny, too?”

Kent studied me, and I let him see it all. He dug through all my hiding spaces and tried to pull any truth out with only a look.

“I still can’t believe you watched porn and only held hands,” Jackson muttered, breaking the tension.

Kent’s perpetual smirk returned. “Yeah, D’s a super freak like that. Really gets off on hand-holding.”

“Fuck you,” I said again, this time with no heat.