Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 100545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Tank took in a sharp breath, turning at a snail’s pace. If his hair were any longer, it would have been tousled, but when he rolled to his back, his droopy eyes betrayed that he’d been sleeping just moments ago. “Clover? What’s wrong?”
Clover hugged Tank as tightly as he could and pushed his face against his neck, even though he knew he might be pushed away. “I can’t stand myself.”
This must have awoken Tank completely, because he cleared his throat and rolled them over so that they were both on their sides. The scent of soap still clung to his skin and Clover wished to rub his face in it again.
“What are you talking about?” Tank asked, using one hand to keep his head up while he studied Clover.
The question took Clover from anxious to desperate within a single heartbeat. He was way past dignity right now.
“I’ve fucked up with everyone. Please don’t kick me out.” Clover sobbed, unable to hold in the emotions boiling inside him. Here he was. Reduced to begging after the display of pride from earlier.
So pathetic.
Tank exhaled and placed one of his enormous hands on Clover’s arm. “I admit, the atmosphere isn’t so great right now. I don’t think asking for honesty was really too much.”
Clover exhaled and pushed under Tank’s arm in hopes he wouldn’t be pushed away. He usually felt threatened by the imposing presence of men so much bigger than him, but Tank’s stable personality encouraged the kind of trust Clover never offered anyone.
“I just… I argued with, Boar. He’s been nothing but nice to me. Almost too sweet and nice, and I panicked.”
Tank swept Clover’s hair from his face with a gentleness his thick fingers shouldn’t be capable of. “Why? Why did you antagonize him? You must see he likes you. If you don’t like him back, there are nicer ways to say it.”
“I do like him. A lot. And I shouldn’t. ‘Cause you’ve all got each other, but this journey with you will end for me eventually.” He stared into Tank’s face, desperate to focus on the eyes and make the image clearer without his glasses. “I’m so jealous of what you have.”
Tank exhaled, moving his hand to Clover’s cheek. Was it just Clover’s imagination, or did he lean closer too?
“What do we have?”
“Each other. You’ve got trust. When I’m around you I feel so looked after, but I know it’s just for now, and I don’t wanna settle into this false security. So when Boar told me how much he likes me, I freaked out. I said awful things to push him away. I don’t know how to make it up to him, but I didn’t want to be forced to apologize either. It’s like I’ve got this weight on my chest, and I can’t lift it myself anymore.”
Tank’s fingertips moved against the sensitive skin around Clover’s ear, stirring sensations that made Clover shift that bit closer, too. “We share trust for a reason. None of us is a liar. Each would risk their life for all the others. This kind of bond isn’t just given. It has to be earned, Clover. And if you want to make things better, coming clean about your mistakes and apologizing to Boar would be a good start.”
Clover ran his hand up Tank’s side, so relieved to be allowed to touch his man-mountain despite all that had happened. “I’m sorry I lied. It’s a habit I’m working on. It’s got me through some tough times, so it’s my default.” Explaining himself to Tank was only the first step to forgiveness, but it lifted some of the weight that had strained Clover’s heart. “I want you to trust me.”
Tank lowered his head to the pillow, still caressing Clover. “Why don’t you tell me something, then? Something you tried to hide?”
Anxiety rose in Clover’s throat. He was used to keeping things to himself, but Tank offered him an opening, and he wasn’t going to blow it this time. “I don’t have parents,” he whispered in the end. “I mean, I do, everyone does, but I was found in a clover field. It’s why I’m called Clover. I’m on my own.”
Tank pulled him closer, cradling Clover’s head against his bare torso. It was warm and smelled like safety, so Clover let himself relax into it, savoring the sense of belonging, even if it was fake.
“I’m sorry,” was all he said. He didn’t try to tell Clover how little he’d missed or convince him that being an orphan toughened up his character. He was just there. Listening.
So Clover went on. “There are no friends in New York. I’ve got nowhere to go and someone is after me. I’m scared.” He sobbed, and didn’t even try to hold it in this time. For once, he dropped his act and let go.