I Love You, Tommy Hughes
Published by: eXtasy Books
Author : Kai Lu-Salnikova
Word Count :13202
Publication Date :2014-11-29
Series : #
Heat Level :
- Product Code: 978-1-4874-0352-2
I like feminine. A lot.
You’re good, but you’re not that good.
With killer moves on the court and model looks, star college athlete and New York native Tommy Hughes knows that he’s got talent, but that his heart just isn’t in basketball. There’s definitely no NBA in his future.
But what does the future have in store for him? Graduation is coming soon, and with it, job searches and apartment-hunting. The broad outline of the next few months of his life is clear, the specifics, less so. A job in what? An apartment where?
Everything is a blur, confusion, until a pick-up basketball game with Amy Van Doren—a beautiful girl he had known since they were both kids—helps him reflect, focus, and discover where his heart really does lie.
It’s winner take all on Tommy’s driveway—though in this game, there are no losers.
Brad was like a rock for him. For a while, Brad had been incarcerated and Luis didn’t have him around. That time-period was when most of the scars on Luis body came from. Brad was steady and heroic and all the things a big brother was supposed to be. Luis relied too much on his brother for his emotional stability, not that Brad really knew that.
Luis knew Brad thought he was the steady constant in their little family. Luis was supposed to be the emotional backbone, keeping everyone on an even keel so their everyday lives went smoother. Brad did all that though, and had since taking Luis and Caden away from their abusive father.
It was hard for him even to get dressed, because he couldn’t seem to think about anything but the nastiness that lived inside of him. Whatever it was seemed to grow with every passing minute, until it was breathing on its own, swirling around him like bad weather. He couldn’t keep that monster tame or from tearing him apart.
He wasn’t going to be able to keep his promise to Brad, and that more than anything made the tears flow. He got up from the bed and walked over to his dresser. He fell to his knees as he pulled the bottom drawer all the way out until it lay on the floor. He had cut a hole in the bottom of the dresser last week when no one was home and created a small hinge so that it wouldn’t be too obvious to Brad, who looked around his room for razors sometimes. Brad would never think to look under the dresser like that. He opened the small door and pulled out one of the disposable razors he had hidden inside it.
He held the razor in his hand. Just knowing it was there helped him breathe a little better. He held it like a lifeline as he put the dresser drawer back in its place. Luis stood and set the razor on the dresser. His hands shook as he took the razor apart, the plastic coming away from the metal with a little force. He walked over to the wastebasket beside his bed and threw the broken pieces of plastic away. He looked at the small piece of metal lying on top of his dresser as he walked back across the room. It didn’t look like much, just thin and gray against the brown dresser, as if someone had taken a silver marker and drawn that small shape.
He pulled tissues from the box on the dresser and laid them out flat, one on top of the other. The razor seemed to have a life of its own and wouldn’t budge from the top of the dresser. Luis slid it across the surface until it came to the edge. Finally, he held it in his hand again. He placed in down in the exact center of the tissue, wanting to see what it would look like against the stark white. His hand hovered over it for long seconds before he took the razor back, holding it between his thumb and index finger. He could barely feel the thin metal as he held it. It was hardly even there at all. It was such a small, thin piece of comfort. He grabbed up the tissue in the other hand even as he put it against the skin of his arm. He took a deep breath and let it out, even as he rocked the blade back and forth against his skin.
He immediately sighed in relief when he felt the physical pain hit him. He put the tissue to his wound to absorb the blood. He wiped the blade off on the tissue still pressed to his arm. Once he knew the blood had clotted he wadded up the tissue and placed it back on the dresser. He opened the small box in front of him and moved the few pieces of jewelry he actually owned around inside. He placed the blade inside and covered it with the gold and silver necklaces and his class ring. He’d be able to roll up his sleeve halfway and still cover the cut.
The relief he felt was wonderful, as if he had taken a drug and that drug had finally kicked in.
He put his work shirt on carefully, trying not to drag the fabric across the cut on his arm. He ran a finger over the cut, through his shirt, just to feel the physical pain. The hurt he caused to his body was nothing compared to the mental anguish that lived inside him. One made the other bearable.
He finished getting dressed. As he made his way out of his room, he grabbed up the bloody tissue on his dresser and shoved it in his pocket.