Chapter 36 Garrett
Garrett
Something was off.
I had always been the dominant one. The top.The one calling the shots. Pretty much on everything really, but especially in bed. Especially there.
Control wasn’t always about ego. For me, it was a lot about survival.
When I was the one leading, everything made sense. My head stayed quiet. My hands stayed steady. There was no room for doubt, no room for old ghosts to crawl out and whisper that I was weak or broken or disgusting.
But with Aslan—
It had been twice now that he told me what to do, and I just did it.
I didn’t fight it.
And both times, I had felt the same peace I felt when I was the one in charge. When I was as far as possible from who I used to be.
But now, apparently, there was this quiet, stubborn, infuriating lion who could take that control from me without even trying and somehow make it all feel good.
Like someone else was holding the wheel for a second, and I didn’t have to… But on the other hand, it was screwing with me.
Aslan was making me fall again—and yet, like an addict in remission, I craved more of him. I needed more.
The first time something happened between us, I’d scrubbed him off my skin like contamination. I’d tried to erase the taste of him. The memory of how easily he’d taken over.
But the second time?
There was no denying it anymore.
Maybe I had wanted him since he showed up at Crownwell. Maybe I’d wanted this part of me since I was eight and had my first real crush.
Right before I learned I wasn’t allowed to have that.
Right before my mother sent me away to that hellish prison to be “fixed.”
But now, the very thing I was trying to avoid, had chased me back… And I had managed to make him bleed for the second time.
I was untouchable here, but maybe not that untouchable.
Since it happened, I’d been expecting someone to confront me about beating up the lion again. I wasn’t like that. I didn’t do physical violence or throw punches.
If I needed violence, it was usually aimed at myself.
But the way he had me there—getting us almost caught—flipped something feral inside me. The idea of someone seeing us—knowing—scared me more than the blood on his lip.
I didn’t mean to hurt him.
But I did.
Again.
I had gone straight back to my dorm and stayed there, feeling like shit for too many reasons to sort through.
I had just started considering an apology when I heard the knock on my door.
My heart went wild—and it had a reason to.
It was Aitor.
Shit…
My own personal Jiminy Cricket.
I opened the door and let him in, ready to hear the speech.
However, he didn't start the way he usually did when he caught me doing some stupid shit. He sat down and looked at me. Assessing me.
I don't know what was worst…
“Remember when James moved to our neighborhood?”
The question threw me. “Yeah. He proclaimed himself my new best friend.”
“And what did you do?”
“I shoved him and told him I already had one.”
“Why?”
“Because he was loud and annoying?”
Aitor shook his head. “Because you liked him. And you didn’t know what to do with that.”
I didn’t answer.
“You two became inseparable,” he continued. “Like brothers.”
“Yeah. Until he went all gay on me.”
Aitor’s expression hardened. “No, Garr. Until your mother found out he did.”
Silence thickened.
“You didn’t care,” he said quietly. “You loved him. But she—”
I cut him off. “I know what she did. Where is this going?”
Aitor held my gaze. “Are you trying to do the same thing with Aslan before your mom ever gets the chance to do it?”
That hit.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I think you like him.”
“I hate him…. And if you’re implying anything else—I’m straight.”
Even as I said it, my voice betrayed me.
Aitor didn’t argue. He just exhaled. “You and I both know that’s not true.”
The air shifted.
“If you want nothing with him,” he continued carefully, “then give him a break. Let him move on. In case someone else decides to step in.”
My stomach dropped.
Someone else? Over my dead body…
“But if you do want something,” he added, “you might want to change your strategy. Because I’m not the only one who’d stand between him and anyone who tries to hurt him.”
The talk had left me restless. I felt so lost…
Aitor was right—I had two choices. I could give him up for good, stay the fuck away, and watch him move on and drive someone else crazy. But imagining that someone else—Aitor, James, Max, or anyone who wasn’t fucking me—was short-circuiting something in my brain at a dangerous rate.
I forced myself to breathe through the urges. My thumb pressing hard against the watchband around my wrist was giving away that this wasn’t the healthiest option.
Plan B was giving in. Claiming him. Or fucking being claimed—whatever. Even if it had to stay in secret. Why not? No one needed to know. The new version of me didn’t need to know…
Before I realized what I was doing, I was already out of bed and walking between the buildings toward my lion’s room. I knew James wasn’t there. He always went home the last weekend of the month.
I swiped the key card he’d given me three years ago, back when we still got together, and slipped inside quietly.
It was four in the morning. The place was dead silent. I told myself I was here to apologize. Or to check on him. Or to talk about whatever the hell this was before it spiraled any further. Maybe propose something. Something that made sense.
It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the dark.
He was curled on his side, sleeping so peacefully it almost pissed me off. I just stood there for a moment, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, the way he looked softer when he wasn’t fighting me. I reached out and shook his shoulder once. He shifted onto his back without waking. I shook him harder.
“Hey, Narnia.”
He shot upright, confused, reaching for the lamp. Light flooded the room. “What the—Garrett?”
He blinked a few times, pushing his hair back from his face, and there it was—his broken lip. My doing. And suddenly all I could think about was kissing it better or nibbling it worse.
“How the hell did you get in here? I locked the door,” he said, sharper now.
I lifted the key card and tossed it onto his nightstand.
“Of course…” He shook his head. “What do you want, Garrett?” He sounded irritated. Tired. Done with me.
I tried to speak, but nothing came out. What the hell was I thinking? Had I completely lost it? Forgotten everything I’d been through—all the horror, the rules, the consequences—just because he made me feel something? I was digging my own fucking grave.
And still, I didn’t leave.
Because even knowing all that, I wanted him.
And then my mouth moved before my brain caught up. “You wanna fuck?”