Page 50 of Nothing To Lose

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He couldn’t find the patience to figure out a fucking sex toy, for Christ’s sake. How much worse was it going to get?

He felt emotionally castrated, which maybe was a bit dramatic, but staring down at his limp dick sitting in his thick curls, he wasn’t sure it was inaccurate, either. His bag had saved his life—literally. It had given him hope of living again. He just hadn’t realized how deep the cost was going to be, and he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to pay that price.

Peyton eventually cleaned up, went back to work, and resolutely ignored the box he’d left on his bed. He told himself he wasn’t going to think about it at all for the rest of the day, but that all cracked when Taylor showed up to pick up some of the shipments.

“Thanks for the useless gift,” Peyton snapped. A small part of him was mortified that he’d be so passive aggressive with his best friend, but he was feeling hurt and defeated.

Taylor froze in the entryway to the kitchen, his brows furrowed. “Uh. Okay? I can tell you’re pissed, so let me start by asking what gift? I mean, I love you, but we don’t do random gifts.”

Peyton cleared his throat, then shrugged and turned away. “I get you were trying to help, but did you even look at reviews for that thing? I almost lost a nut.”

“Yeeeeah,” Taylor said slowly, and Peyton could hear him walking closer. “Again... What?”

Peyton spun. “I get that it’s embarrassing. You don’t think it was humiliating for me to open that and see my best friend had to send me some shit like that just because I’m a pathetic loser who can’t…”

“Stop.”

Peyton’s jaw snapped at Taylor’s soft command, but only for a second. “You should haveaskedfirst. You should haveaskedme if I wanted—”

Taylor met his gaze and held up both hands in surrender, speaking in halted, short sentences. “Babe. I don’t know. What the fuck. You’re talking. About.”

Peyton searched his face and realized he was telling the truth. “Shit. So was it…no. No. Linden would never…but oh God, what if hedid?”

“You’re still not making any sense, Peyt,” Taylor cautioned.

Peyton looked up, sure his face was showing every scrap of mortification he felt. “The uh…the toy.”

‘Toy,’ Taylor mouthed, then realization dawned on his features. “Oh. Like. Atoy?”

“Yes,” Peyton groaned. “It was on my doorstep. I just…I don’t know. I assumed it was you, since we’d talked about them from that one company and everything.”

Taylor was finally close enough to touch, and he brushed a lock of fallen hair behind Peyton’s ear. The gesture was oddly soothing. “Babe. Are you sure you didn’t order it when you were feeling—”

“I’m sure,” Peyton snapped, then took another breath. “Sorry. Trust me, I’m sure.”

Taylor bit his lip, then took a step back. “Can I see it?”

Yeah, kick a man while he’s down, Peyton thought, but he shrugged because he’d already humiliated himself enough as it was. Might as well bring it full circle. He turned on his heel and he heard Taylor right behind him. His hand reached for the light switch, and the dome from his ceiling fan seemed almost too bright with the damn box all lit up.

Peyton glanced across the room where the toy was sitting on the floor, then he shrugged and pointed. “So. It’s that.”

“And you tried it out?” Taylor asked as he walked toward the bed.

Peyton’s cheeks went hot. “Yeah. I mean. I…um."

“I’m not judging,” Taylor said in a rush. He sat down and looked up at Peyton as he pulled the instruction booklet out of the box. He frowned at the image, then at the text. “This isn’t written professionally.”

Peyton flushed again, only because he hadn’t read it. He’d just tried to figure it out on his own. “I guess.”

Taylor turned the little booklet and Peyton’s eyes widened when he saw it written in Sharpie pen. “Who sent this to you?”

For a hot, terrifying, mortifying second, he thought maybe itwassome fucked up gift from Austin. Like maybe his way of humiliating Peyton after the rejection. After hearing what Hudson had said about his ex, he wouldn’t put it past the guy.

But something in his gut told him this gift wasn’t supposed to be embarrassing. Even if he struggled to figure out how to use it properly, he didn’t think it was meant to be a source of frustration or a way to show him he was inadequate.

“This is from that company,” Taylor said after a beat, startling Peyton out of his thoughts.

Peyton’s gaze snapped over to him. “What company?”


Tags: E.M. Lindsey Romance