A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies - Christina Lee Page 0,6
know what else.
“Spying on me, huh?” Rhys smirked. “See anything good?”
Emerson’s body heated even as he panicked. What the fuck was happening, and why was his stomach such a mess? “No, I…”
Rhys sobered. “Hey, I was only teasing.” He stared at Emerson for a long moment, as if trying to read something in his expression. “You know, I can always watch the kids while you go out. How long has it been?”
“Nah, it’s all cool.” He winced. “I better get inside before Sam wakes up and—good night!”
He fled inside the house, figuring he could make up a good enough excuse tomorrow if Rhys asked him about it again.
Emerson strode to the sink and gulped down a glass of water, feeling less heated, even though his palms were still clammy. Rhys probably thought he was losing it, except it wouldn’t be anything new. Rhys endlessly worried about him—he could tell by the deep creases in Rhys’s forehead during dinners with him and his siblings, which, come to think of it, had taken place more infrequently the past few months since Rhys had started climbing with a new group he’d connected with. So seeing Rhys with someone new made sense.
It wasn’t like their interests overlapped all that much, unless it involved video games or movies or sitting around shooting the breeze over a beer. They were normally good at that. Just being present in each other’s lives.
The memory of their almost-kiss, as well as the Ferris wheel ride, that confounded Emerson so long ago had seemed worlds away…until tonight when he’d watched Rhys with another man, and it had stirred confusing feelings inside him.
But maybe it made sense. Emerson was essentially a single parent with two kids. Life wasn’t much more exciting than that, and his sex life was crap. His last serious girlfriend had been before the accident, and since then he generally felt numb toward everyone.
Except that had always been the case, if he thought hard enough about it. He’d never been much into sex and dating. He always thought something would eventually click or make sense, but it never did.
Add in the accident that had changed their lives, and Emerson had seemingly expended every last emotion from his body. He felt sort of dead inside.
He had no more to give anyone outside of Audrey and Sam, and he certainly didn’t want to be a burden to a potential date. Besides, he’d have to be home by a certain time to put Sam to bed because he was still scared many nights—mostly that Emerson would leave, but for other reasons as well, like climate change squashing his future plans as a biologist. And he couldn’t expect Aunt Janice to understand or Audrey to comfort her brother by herself. She had worries of her own. She noticed every little detail, it seemed, and carried her emotions close to the surface, though she acted unaffected most of the time.
It was a strange juxtaposition to be their brother as well as their disciplinarian, and he struggled, but thought he’d finally—maybe—gotten it down. Nothing like a crash course in parenting. Sam was too smart for his own good, and sometimes too sensitive, and Audrey was compassionate and occasionally moody, but Emerson also recognized her soul-deep fear that he would die in a terrible accident too.
Sometimes Emerson still felt cheated and would shed angry tears into his pillow late at night that his world had been turned upside down.
But then he’d hear Sam cry out from a bad dream, and he’d know he was exactly where he was meant to be. He needed to show up for his science fairs, and for Audrey’s soccer games, and to put all his dreams aside because they needed him.
Rhys had also been a support to them over the past four years. He’d randomly show up with a pizza to watch movies, and he’d often fall asleep in what had become his favorite chair.
He was considered family, so it was confusing why tonight seemed to cross over into new territory for Emerson.
He retreated to his room but only tossed and turned in bed, his dick growing harder the more he thought about Rhys and his hookup. He adjusted himself in his boxers before finally, finally, gripping himself through the material.
It was a purely physical reaction, and he needed to get it over with. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d jerked off. He lay back and pulled himself out, using a tight fist as he stroked upward.