Darn Stupid Brother You Are by Mairee

Chapter 85

(Angel's POV)

Thomas and I were sprawled on the bed in the vacant examination room. The soft hum of the center's fluorescent lights filled the silence between us. My head rested on his chest, and I could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was a calming metronome against the chaos of my thoughts.

"I don't talk about her much," I said suddenly, breaking the silence. "My mom, Dennis. She's... complicated."

Thomas's fingers brushed through my hair. "Complicated how?"

A small laugh escaped me, but it was bitter around the edges. "Strict, controlling, impossible to please. She wasn't always like that, though. I remember when it was just the two of us. Things were simpler back then."

I paused as my mind drifted to memories of a smaller apartment, where the walls were thin, and her voice was loud but comforting. "She changed when Travis came into the picture. Hendrix's dad. They met at some boating event. I think he was still grieving his wife at the time."

Thomas hummed whilst his hand trailed soothing patterns along my arm. "And you met Hendrix then?"

I nodded. "Yeah. He was this loud, obnoxious kid who thought the world revolved around him. I didn't like him at first, but... he grew on me. He always knew how to charm his way out of trouble, even when he was the one causing it." Thomas chuckled. "Sounds like someone I know."

I swatted his chest playfully. "Don't compare me to him."

"I'm not," he said, smiling. "But you both have that spark, that ability to light up a room without even trying."

I didn't respond. The words lingered in the air like a soft melody. My chest tightened as the memories kept coming. Hendrix and I, fighting over the TV remote. Dennis yelling at him to stop breaking curfew. Travis trying to mediate, always with that patient, fatherly smile.

"Sometimes I wonder if things could've been different," I whispered. "If we hadn't ended up here. If Dennis had been less strict or if Travis had... I don't know, done more to hold our family together."

Thomas shifted under me, and his arms tightened around my frame. "Angel, you don't have to talk about it if it's too much."

I shook my head. "No, it's okay. It feels good to talk about it. To let it out."

But the tears were already pooling in my eyes, and I hated it. I hated that those memories still had power over me, that they could unravel me so easily. Thomas didn't say anything else. He just held me; his warmth anchored me to the present. The silence between us stretched, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Words didn't need to be said at the moment as we shared an understanding that didn't need to be voiced.

"What about you?" I softly asked after a while. "What were your parents like?"

Thomas stiffened slightly, and his hand stilled against my arm. For a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer, but then he sighed. It was one of those heavy sighs filled with a quiet sadness.

"I didn't know them well," he admitted. "They died when I was a kid. Car accident."

sat up slightly to look at him. His eyes were

loved me. And she

"What was

was the reckless one. Always getting into trouble, always dragging me along for

dropped to the bed. "He died a

broke for him, for the burden he carried so quietly. I reached out and cupped

and closed his eyes. "It's okay. I've made peace with it. But

I just held him and let my presence speak the words I couldn't find. His arms wrapped around me again, pulling me closer, and I felt his heartbeat against mine, the heartbeat I only wanted to be because of me. Thomas's arms tightened around me as I leaned into his warmth. I could feel the tension in his muscles as his memories pressed down on him. My fingers brushed over his chest absentmindedly, tracing invisible patterns that helped ground both of us in the present. His scent-clean, masculine, faintly woodsy-filled my senses,

question waiting to be asked. His thumb brushed against my cheek as he wiped away a tear I hadn't realized had fallen. "Angel," he murmured

hard. "Neither

above mine, giving me the chance to pull away. But I didn't. I closed the distance and brushed my lips against his in a kiss that was soft. His hands cupped my face, holding me steady as the

was tender yet firm, guiding and grounding me. My fingers slipped into his hair, and he groaned softly against my mouth. The kiss grew hungrier, as if we were both trying to drown out the pain and memories in each other. His hand slid down my back, pressing me closer to

he made me feel-wanted, needed, seen. And as his hands explored the curve of my waist while his lips moved urgently, I couldn't help but wonder if this was enough to silence

back onto the bed so I could rest my head on the pillows. His touch was steady, as though he was trying to convey with every caress that I was safe and cherished. He hovered over me, still staring into my soul with orbs that were filled with a tenderness and burning intensity that made

pulled it over my head. His hands felt sure against my skin. He didn't rush. He

so sincere it stole my breath. "Let me take care of you." There was no hesitation in his voice, only a sort of confidence, and I felt my body relax under that warmth which was spreading through me but had nothing to do with

asking for permission. I nodded like a starving hyena. My heart was pounding as he slid them down, and I immediately felt the cold AC graze

wasn't just touching me he was unraveling me, piece by piece, each flick of his tongue pulling me further under his control. "Thomas..." I breathed out his name with a broken voice as my hips bucked instinctively against him. "Stay with me," he murmured against my skin as his

drove me higher and higher until I shattered and a soft cry escaped my lips as

he moved up my body and slid his hands under my back to pull me up with him. He sat back on his knees, holding me close as I straddled his lap. My legs wrapped around his

to feel the heat of him against me. The sensation was electric and sent a rush of anticipation through me as he pulled me closer to rest his forehead against mine. "I need you," he whispered with an honesty that left

as I adjusted my hips, guiding him into me. The sensation was overwhelming; it was painful and pleasurable as he filled me completely. His grip on my hips tightened as he

my hips against his as we found our rhythm. His lips found mine again in a deep and unrestrained kiss, and his hands were roaming over my back, holding me to him as if he couldn't bear to let me go. The feeling of him under

bodies moving together, the connection between us undeniable. His hands tightened on my hips as he guided me, and I could feel the tension building

patient strength, I couldn't stop the thoughts that creeped in-the comparisons. It was wrong, I knew it was, but the memories of Hendrix still lingered in the corners of my mind. Hendrix had always been fire and chaos, overwhelming in his intensity, leaving me breathless but raw, like I

in short gasps, and my forehead pressed to his as I clung to him, trying to focus on the present, on him. "Thomas," I whispered as my voice trembled with pleasure and emotion. "You make me feel... safe." My raw and unfiltered words came out unexpectedly, and I felt his arms tighten around me in response. He didn't

I didn't know I needed." My voice cracked slightly, and I felt his hands pause for a moment. His fingers

I let myself forget everything but this the way he made me feel, the warmth of his hands, the strength in his arms, the softness in his gaze. I felt the tension building again and the pleasure rising like a tide that I couldn't stop, and when it finally crashed over me, I was shaking and holding on to

waist, but instead of moving, I reached out and framed his face with my hands. He looked up at me. His hair was damp with sweat, his cheeks were flushed, and for a moment, I just stared at him, marveling at the man under me. My thumb brushed over his cheekbone, tracing the line of his jaw, and I felt something

in. The way he looked at me, his eyes soft and filled with something I didn't know if I deserve, made my chest tighten. "Maybe I should have... maybe it's always been you." My voice trailed off; uncertainty was surely creeping in. I didn't know if I was saying it for him or for

quiet doubt crept in the but. It was there, lingering in the back of my mind like a shadow I couldn't shake. Why did I feel it? Why, even now, when he was everything I could ask for when he was kind, patient, loving-did the memory of Hendrix still

kiss to his forehead and slid my hands down to his shoulders as I rested against him, trying to quiet the storm in my mind. Maybe he was the right one for me. Maybe, with time, that but will disappear. But as his arms tightened around me and I felt his steady heartbeat against my chest, I could help but wonder if I'll ever truly let go