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Destiny Collides Past and Present (The Manx Cat Guardians Book 2) by JP Sayle (11)

 

Joe’s fingers tangled in Princess’s fur, seeking some relief from his fretting. Princess seemed always to have a way of making him feel better. He giggled when she increased the level of her purring. Her enquiring look encouraged Joe to explain himself.

“I know I’m hiding from Stuart, because how do I explain myself when my past wants to haunt me and possibly ruin any future I have? You do realise, though, you make it hard to stay hidden with the noise you make, right?”

Her lip curled up making him feel a little better. At least with her he could acknowledge his fears out loud to her. Joe looked around Brad’s gym, it was the perfect place to hide out with Princess. Well, that was if he didn’t count Stuart’s arms holding and protecting him. Groaning in self-loathing at where his mind was taking him, yet again. Isn’t that why he was hiding out?

Scrunching his eyes against the headache that persisted to niggle, the cotton wool feeling in his brain seemed only to get worse. The lack of sleep he knew was the real culprit. Terrified that sleep would allow his mind to be dragged back into his nightmares he avoided it at all costs.

He felt his feelings were a perfect match to the mess he was making of his life. Joe hunched under his unhappiness, giving Princess one final stroke before heading to the cross trainer, hoping it would lift his mood.

Massaging his forehead as he moved, he just needed something to distract for a little while. Setting up the programme, he popped in his earbuds not wanting to disturb Brad or Martin this early on a Sunday. He was positive that they wouldn’t thank him for waking them at five am, especially when he’d caught sight of the mess downstairs. The tell tales signs they had been more focused on each other than the house, had him smother a giggle.

Brad had been kind enough to give him a key so he could come and go as he wished after he’d expressed an interest in using their gym. They had a sweet set up, the cross trainer only a part of what it offered. The Stairmaster, treadmill, recumbent bike, and rowing machine were scattered around the room, along with a wall of free weights.

Glancing out the darkened window, the light behind him threw back his reflection. He was happy to see the changes in his body. No longer skinny, leaner, he was filling out.

Joe moved his arms and legs in tandem, finding the perfect rhythm, but his feeling of frustration wouldn’t shift. His mind wouldn’t cease thinking about Joel. It seemed the harder he tried the more his mind latched on to his negative thoughts. It needed to get with the programme and focus on something else, anything else that wasn’t Joel.

Joe powered faster; heat spread through his waking muscles.

His mind obeying him, but it decided they needed to rehash his evening disaster instead. Sweat dripped into his eyes, he pushed but the words Stuart had uttered while they’d been making out, kept replaying.

He never wanted to belong to anyone, never again. His mind had latched on to Stuart’s words faster than shit on a stick. Freezing Joe in place, when the words so benign registered, taking him back to a place and time he hadn’t wanted to go. Memories throwing his system into overdrive, he hadn’t seen straight. His lust disappearing leaving him exposed and vulnerable.

His instincts kicking in, fighting before his mind could catch up. He could still feel the mortification at his own behaviour. He couldn’t explain it in that moment, his mind shutting down for a few seconds, his fear the driver. It had clouded his rational mind, leaving him feeling defenceless. Whereas in the past he hadn’t been able to fight Joel, he’d just let go with Stuart.

He could still feel his fists hitting Stuart’s face. The sourness coating the moment that had been so beautiful minutes earlier. He knew he had ruined it by letting his memories override everything. Joe worried his sweaty upper lip. Had he hurt Stuart? The shocked look on his face had barely registered but now replaying it, he wasn’t sure what damage he might have caused.

His legs sped up, punishing his overtired system. Leaning forward, he increased the time. The urge to push harder, to empty his mind, took over common sense.

Joe pushed his sopping hair out of his eyes, blinking rapidly, hoping the stinging would stop. He wished he’d thought to bring a sweatband. Using the next best thing, he pulled up his soaking T-shirt, swiping it over his dripping face. He slowed his pace, letting his muscles cool down.

At least he could say he’d achieved something, his headache easing with the rush of endorphins waking up his system. Joe sighed in relief, his body was able to take the penance he’d given it. His strength was returning, his body nearly back to pre-Joel.

His life now seemed to be in two parts: the before and after. Glad to be in the after section, with one exception, Stuart. There was something innately different about his feelings for Stuart. He just couldn’t put his finger on them. The genuine concern Stuart had displayed last night showed that what he had said about it being more than lust seemed honest enough. But, he’d been out the night prior to that getting his end away with someone else. His words said one thing but his actions said something else. Joe just couldn’t figure out which was which.

Stuart hadn’t pressurised or forced him after he had said no twice. Knowing and convincing his mind that there were men out there who wouldn’t hurt him, seemed to be easier said than done.

Joe lost his grip on the bar, turning when he heard Martin speak behind him.

“Are you trying to break the record for the longest time spent on a cross trainer?” Martin’s good humour had him smiling back.

Joe’s legs wobbled realising he’d probably pushed too hard, his grin turning sheepish when he glanced at the timer. Hell, had I been going for two hours? His mind finally catching up with his screaming muscles, chest heaving along with his stomach, he stepped gingerly down. Taking several deep breaths, he tried to calm his oxygen starved body.

Not completely sure his jelly legs would hold him up for long, Joe let out a disgruntled sigh before he could think otherwise. Martin’s chuckles had him glaring up at him, before hesitantly moving, checking out his legs. Okay, shaky but he could stand, at least that is something, right?

His arms trembled while his fingers struggled to obey his command to open the water bottle. His parched throat singing in pleasure, Joe moaned in relief glugging down the water.

“Come on, let’s get something to eat and we can talk.”

Joe’s sore muscles tensed, Martin’s meaning clear as the morning sunrise, they were going to talk, or rather he was whether he liked it or not. Joe groaned in defeat, limping behind Martin, careful not to drip sweat all over the carpets, Brad would have his ass in a sling.

“Where is Brad?” His hope died at the use of Brad as a barrier when Martin spoke.

“Asleep. Brad had a big night last night.” The cryptic smile Martin sent him had his funk slipping away.

“Did you do something epic last night, my friend?”

Martin’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline, the questioning look demanding Joe explain himself. Joe’s forehead furrowed, not understanding why Martin looked so alarmed.

“The bulge in your trousers last night wasn’t just because Brad was dancing on your lap, now was it?”

Martin shocked incredulous look had Joe trying to muffle his laugh, not wanting to wake Brad. “You forget half of my training is observing everything that happens around me. Well, did he accept?”

Martin’s arched brow spoke volumes, making Joe squeal in delight jogging forward ignoring his fatigued muscles, he hugged him tightly.

“Eww, get off me, Joe. Shit, man, you’re soaking wet, and you stink.”

Unable to resist he rubbed his wet chest against Martin’s body as he attempted to pull back. Joe clung on for dear life. Laughing at his disgusted expression, he continued to slather his sweat over him.

“I wouldn’t be interrupting anything now, would I?”

Brad’s sharpness sliced through Joe’s laughter, oh crap. Turning to face the music his apology died at the humour dancing in Brad eyes. Okay not pissed off, thank God.

The sunlight streaming through the hall window caught Brad’s hand, blinding Joe with its dazzling stones. Oh wow. Joe ran to Brad, feeling giddy for both of them, Joe snatched at Brad’s hand. “Oh, it is beautiful.”

Brad took off the ring, handing it to Joe while pointing to the inside. Joe squinted, cursing the fact he didn’t have his glasses, he attempted to read the inscription. “What does it say? It seems to be some weird looking symbols.” Joe’s excitement had his words rush together. His happiness for his friends filling him with hope, something two hours of exercise hadn’t achieved.

“It means love with no end in Manx Gallic.”

Brad’s sigh of pleasure when he reverently touched the symbols while speaking, had tears leaking out the corner of Joe’s eyes. Sniffing he turned when Martin spoke.

“Come on, you two. I’m starving because someone kept me up half the night.” Martin’s waggling brows and knowing smirk he threw at Brad, had Joe cringing.

“Too much information, man.” Joe whined after Martin’s retreating back.

Brad giggled, grabbing Joe’s hands, “Isn’t he just wonderful?”

Brad’s contagious joy had him nodding, pulling him in for a hug, forgetting his sweaty body.

Brad pushed him back, horrified eyes widening. “Oh no you don’t, you’re not rubbing your sweaty ass against me.” Brad’s small fingers drilled into his soaking chest.

“Shower now. The food will be ready when you finish. Help yourself to whatever you need.” Brad’s shudder when he rubbed the sweaty imprints off his arm had Joe laughing at his antics. Joe hesitated looking at Brad, would he ever be that happy? He yearned when the negative voice in his head said no.

Doing as he was told, he hurried when the smell of frying bacon had his stomach growling in approval. His mouth watering, he headed straight for the plate that had been laid out for him. The only sounds were mouths chomping and lips slurping. He couldn’t help but think it was a perfect way to start a Sunday, sighing in contentment, Joe felt himself settle back in the chair.

Though he had been expecting Martin’s questions, when Martin spoke, it still caught him off guard.

“Okay, Joe, spill. I’ve waited patiently for weeks for you to open up about whatever shit has been going on, and I’ve had enough. Finding you here trying to beat some world record for using a cross trainer, tells me you have to let that shit out before it eats away at you, making you ill. Not that you didn’t look like a third world refugee when you arrived. I will admit, I’m pleased to see that’s improved with my baby’s cooking.” Martin paused when Joe went to interrupt, holding his hand up to stop him.

Joe fiddled with the napkin, waiting for Martin to finish. His guilt had his meal sliding around uneasily in his stomach.

“Whatever it is, man, it won’t make any difference to you and me. We have been friends a long time. It’s the only reason I haven’t pushed before now. I’d hoped you would open up when you were ready, but if anything, you have shut down further. You need to talk and get this off your chest and now.”

As Martin stopped speaking, Joe could see the harm he’d inadvertently caused, hurting his friend. Joe let go of his barrier inside, reassured that Martin wouldn’t judge him. He let the words tumble out. Not stopping, he poured out the whole gory story, not missing anything out.

Appreciative that both Brad and Martin didn’t interrupt. As he filled in the last parts, he stopped, alarmed when Martin threw his chair across the room, the loud crash making both Brad and him jump.

Joe felt his concern grow watching Martin storm around the kitchen, evidently fighting past his anger, if his clenched fists were anything to go by.

Knowing he needed to finish, words rushed past frozen lips. “The set up worked, Aaden got the confession, coerced or not. We had his admission that he was a stalking, sadistic bastard. The commander has finally accepted that Joel has a problem. At least it was something, after the months of torment and no one listening to me. Well, except Aaden.” Joe’s voice trailed off realising his mistake.

He could practically see the steam coming out of Martin’s ears. Oh Christ, that was so the wrong thing to say. The thought hadn’t fully formed when Joe found himself dangling at the end of Martin’s fists, shaking him till his teeth rattled.

“Why the fuck didn’t you come to me, you know I could have helped. Fuck, I would have gone and sorted that asshole out for you. What the fuck, man, you know you could have trusted me, I would have dealt with it for you.” Martin’s sharp demand didn’t hide the hurt, or disappointment in his eyes for not trusting him enough to ask for help.

“Put him down, now.” Brad’s quiet command cut through the tension in the room.

Martin placed Joe back onto his chair, his hands caressing his shoulders and arms, both knowing he’d probably have a bruise after that punishing grip.

“I’m sorry.” Martin’s sadness warred with anger.

Joe watched Martin’s expression close down. He balled his hands in his lap, frightened of losing Martin’s friendship. “Please, I need you to understand with everything you were going through with Brad, I didn’t want to burden you. Can’t you see I was trying to do the best for everyone?” Joe begged, his sobs choking him.

Martin and Brad moved together surrounding him with love as two sets of arms pulled him between them. Letting go of everything he’d been holding, his body collapsed against both men, sobs wracked him making him shudder at the release. His tears fell unhindered soaking everything they touched. The long needed release cathartic, cleansing away the hurt, pain, and loneliness of the last several months.

“Shush, let it out. I know what it feels like to keep all the pain inside.” Brad’s whispered words soothing.

Brad’s fingers tracing small circles over Joe’s tensed back, unsure how to respond to his quiet words, he accepted them for what they were, support. Several minutes passed, no one moving, arms wrapped around protecting him from further hurt.

Weirdly he felt better than he had in months, even though his headache was back. Feeling Princess push against his leg it felt like she had connected them all in some cosmic way.

Joe chuckled at his weird ass thoughts moving back. Hiding his wet cheeks he bent to pick up Princess, but Martin’s firm fingers wouldn’t let him escape, gripping his chin.

“No more hiding from me.” Martin’s command had him nodding, relief that he hadn’t ruined their friendship helping settle the last of his anxiety.

Martin’s next words had him stiffen. “Now, tell me what’s going on with Stuart?”

Joe glanced around the room feeling the question heat his cheeks. Well, shit how’d I forget how perceptive Martin could be? Joe pretended a sudden interest in Princess, needing a moment to consider how to answer.

Brad had told him the full story about Stuart’s part in his past. Still not sure of the dynamics between them, he knew his answer could create more problems.

“Stop worrying your lip and spit it out.”

Automatically doing as Martin requested, not even realising he’d been chewing it, Joe heaved a heavy sigh; this was why you couldn’t get away with shit when your friends knew you.

Joe plodded back to the chair, mind racing at how best to put forward his confused thoughts. “I’m not sure. I like him, but,” holding up his hands as Brad sat eagerly next to him. “Hold your horses. I think old Stuart is probably a bit of a skank. He came home Friday stinking the house up with some flowery smelling shit that wasn’t his.” Spitting the words out, Joe felt the jealousy rear its ugly head.

Princess meowed loudly, a paw battering his hand, he released his clenching fingers, apologising. “Shit, sorry, Princess.” Showing his regret, Joe quickly soothed the silky ruffled fur. He went to pop her down not wanting to upset her further, he felt her claws dig into the borrowed joggers barely missing digging into his leg.

“Hey, stop that nonsense.” Joe exclaimed, his brow furrowing.

Brad batted at her paws dragging her away from Joe, putting her outside the door. “Naughty girls don’t get to listen if they can’t behave.” Brad’s no-nonsense tone brooked no argument.

Joe hid his smile behind hands, not wanting to look at Princess’s face and give away his amusement. Brad pranced back, sitting opposite, giving Joe a look of clear expectation, oh dear, this is not good.

“Come on spill, tell me everything.”

Joe’s eyes widened in horror, looking at Martin for help to save him from Brad’s eager smile. Joe wanted to groan at his nonchalant shrug, it spoke volumes, he was on his own with this one.

“Oh alright, alright, I give in,” Joe whined, hunching under Martin’s amused gaze. Feeling put upon, he fidgeted under the two penetrating intent looks. He could feel their compulsion to spurt out all his woes. “He’s been flirting with me. Flaunting his body at every opportunity, he seems to have an aversion to clothes. He spends half the time with barely a stitch on. It’s driving me fucking mad. Then he’s all ‘Joe, you need to eat, you have to look after yourself’. On top of that is the touching, he seems to be doing it every five bloody minutes till I can’t think past the lust, escape his friggin delicious smell that I’m sure he sprays some shit over the house, so I can’t escape its intoxicating scent.” Knowing he was ranting but unable to stop Joe jumped up, pacing.

“I told myself I wouldn’t do this again, let my dick rule my head, yet here I am finding myself wanting to rut against him like a dog in heat. What the fuck is wrong with me?” Scowling, he pointed accusingly at Martin.

“It’s your entire fault. ‘Come and stay with me, Joe, you’ll love it here. It’s beautiful and peaceful.’ Well let me tell you, it’s bloody not peaceful when your dick doesn’t know which way it’s fucking pointing.” Throwing daggers at Martin, he ignored Brad’s grinning face.

“You left me with him, all fucking hot body and tight ass. Muscles that stretch for miles, so bronzed you just want to lick till you’re full to the brim. Who does that to their best friend, I ask you, who?” Lost in his rant, he failed to see Martin and Brad struggled to choke back their laughter.

Joe’s arms pumped and flexed, his whole body jiggling, words continued to flow.

Martin pulled Brad onto his lap, settling in to watch the show. God, had he been this bad about his feeling for Brad? Nuzzling Brad’s neck, taking pleasure in the scent of ripe cherries and chocolate, his groin stirred to life at how the chocolate smell had gotten there.

Brad battered him away, “Stop that, we are supposed to be helping here.” Brad’s angry whisper had Joe stopping mid-stride.

His eyes pinning them both in place, “Are you two even listening to me?”

Twin sheepish smiles looked up at him.

Joe’s question, “What did I just say?”

Martin hoped Joe couldn’t remember himself, winging it, he responded. “You were saying something about how hot and tight his body was.” Scratching his ear where Brad’s hair tickled, Martin looked to Brad for confirmation, they both nodded turning back to Joe.

The ‘was I’ look had them both cracking up with laughter.

“You’re not even listening to yourself,” giggling, Brad tucked his head under Martin’s chin, settling back.

Joe flounced down next to them huffing. “Well, okay, anyway, we kissed yesterday.” He gave Martin an accusing look. “Sarah started it.” The words hung in the air between them, Martin’s alarmed look had Joe finally seeing the funny side. His sense of humour returning, he let Martin off the hook. “You know how I am for being tickled. Why you ever told Sarah that, I’ll never know. Some friend you turned out to be. Anyway, she started to attack me after you kicked us out.”

The implication of Joe’s words had Brad burrowing a little deeper into Martin, red infusing his already flushed cheeks. Joe grinned at Brad’s self-satisfied smile.

Giving himself a shake he got back on track. “You know I can’t stand being tickled. Anyway, I asked Stuart to rescue me, next thing I know I’m wrapped around him in your front garden, giving your neighbours a free show. Though, I did manage to stop before it went too far.” Drumming his fingers on the table in frustration before continuing, “I hightailed back into the house before Stuart stalked off, going God knows where. The long story short, we then somehow ended up in my bed.”

Brad sat forward wetting his lips, eyes glowing with expectation.

Joe held up his hands, “Nope, not what you’re thinking. Well maybe a little, but Stuart said something about belonging to him, and well, it fucked with my mind. Next thing I knew I was fighting him, socked him right in the mouth, too. He probably has a fat lip for his effort.” Joe dropped his head down, rubbing his face, feeling his confusion sit forefront and centre.

His insecurity ate at his old confidence, nibbling his fingernails watching Brad and Martin have a silent conversation only couples seemed to be able to have. He acknowledged he felt a little jealous of their connection, even though it warred with his genuine pleasure for them to have found each other.

Musing he missed what Brad had said. “Sorry, what?” Joe smiled in apology, waiting for Brad to continue.

“Are you interested in his skanky ass?”

Laughing at Brad’s use of his own words, he realised he was past kidding himself. Nodding, Joe acknowledged somehow they’d managed to build a friendship even though he hadn’t tried to. Stuart seemed to ignore the walls Joe’s had built to hide behind. Shit, maybe I hadn’t hid my feelings at all? He sure as hell hadn’t hidden anything last night with his boner knocking on Stuart’s zip, asking for entry. What a ruddy mess.

“Joe, if it were me, I’d play him at his own game.” Brad wriggled in Martin’s lap, hips dancing as he moved towards Joe, his eyes glinting in mischief.

“It’s easy or should I say hard,” Brad smirked at Martin.

The silent pregnant pause only lasting a second before laughter rang out at Brad’s antics. Joe chuckled thinking about the fun he could have with Stuart. Could he play with Stuart and set up ground rules to stop his stupid possessive behaviour?

Joe smiled indulgently at the couple in front of him. Sudden heat fired through his body when Brad got a little too frisky, that would be my cue to leave then.

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