He felt guilty about leaving Red, and he felt guilty about sleeping with him in the first place. He even felt guilty about moving in with him right now, knowing that none of this would have happened if he hadn’t.
Mostly, though, he felt guilty about turning him into an experiment. Red had deserved better than that. He was a human being with thoughts and feelings of his own, and for some reason, those thoughts and feelings involved Andy in ways Andy hadn’t intended to be involved.
It wasn’t that he didn’t like Red. He really, really liked Red.
He was just terrified of what that meant.
Their numbers not matching up was an excuse, and he knew it. Data didn’t lie on the whole, but there were always exceptions. The whole system worked on close enough being good enough. That was what statistics were. That was what data science was about.
Knowing what would happen most of the time was powerful.
Accepting that sometimes things just didn’t go like that… that was something else.
Andy wasn’t ready to open up to someone again, but Red had worked his way past every wall Andy would normally have thrown up. He’d trusted Red from day one, and that had made it so easy to fall for him.
And now, he’d walked out on him post-sex, and was looking at other apartments like an asshole.
God, no wonder Jake had been mad at him. This was what he did. He ran away when he got scared, or too involved.
Just as he was thinking it, someone sat down opposite him.
Andy almost didn’t have to look up to know it would be Jake. Of course he’d there right at the moment when Andy wanted to see him least.
“I thought this was a flying visit,” Andy said. He’s assumed Jake was long gone by now, but obviously their definitions of ‘flying visit’ differed.
That had been their problem. They’d never been able to agree on the little things, and they’d been terrible at communicating.
He didn’t have that problem with Red. Any disagreements they had were brief and civil. To Jake, this would have been a big deal.
They’d probably both mellowed with experience, but it was way too late now.
“It is. I’m actually leaving today,” Jake responded. “Can I buy you a coffee first?”
Andy looked at the way his fingers were shaking, poised over his laptop keyboard. He couldn’t tell exactly why it was happening, but it probably wasn’t a good idea to contribute to it any more than he already had.
“I don’t think I should have more coffee,” Andy said, raising his hand in demonstration.
Jake shifted in his seat. “Then I’ll be quick. I just… I’ve been thinking since I ran into you the other night, and I was hoping I’d get the chance to see you again before I left.”
Andy closed the lid of his laptop, feeling as though he at least owed it to Jake to listen to him.
“I’m getting married,” Jake added.
Andy’s stomach did a backflip, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. The mention of marriage was enough to send him spiraling into a panic.
It was what they’d broken up over, after all.
“That’s…”
“You don’t have to pretend you’re happy about it,” Jake said. “I just wanted… I dunno. To tell you I’m not mad anymore, I guess.”
“I am happy,” Andy said softly. It had been a surprise, but a few seconds of thought was all it took for him to know that this was good. Jake wasn’t a bad person, as much as Andy had wanted to think he was sometimes. They were just different. Incompatible. “I want you to be happy. And you always wanted a husband.”
“I did,” Jake agreed. He was quieter than usual, and Andy was grateful for that. He couldn’t have dealt with an argument right now.
Andy took a deep breath and met Jake’s eyes. “I mean it. I’m happy for you. I just freaked out for a second there.”
“I get it, you didn’t want to be tied down. We were at different places in our lives,” Jake said. “I did love you, though.”
“I loved you, too.” Andy smiled wryly. “In my own, awkward way.”
“I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have.” Jake sat back. He seemed a little more comfortable now, whereas he’d been on edge when he sat down.
Jake had hurt Andy, but Andy knew he’d hurt Jake, as well.
“I am actually a clueless, selfish asshole though.” Andy sighed. He definitely felt like it today.
Why couldn’t he have seen how Red felt sooner? On top of all of the guilt, all the uncertainty, there was a layer of wanting to kick himself for being so oblivious.
“All that and more,” Jake agreed, smiling kindly. “Doesn’t mean you don’t have good qualities, though. Plus, it looked as though you found someone who doesn’t mind.”
Andy snorted. Red didn’t mind, and that killed him. Red had been willing to put up with all his experimenting, all of his bullshit, from day one, and he’d done it with a smile.
Red was the kindest, most patient man Andy had ever met, and he’d been too stupid and too afraid to see it and grab him with both hands.
Now he’d be at home, wondering what he’d done wrong, thinking Andy hated him.
The thought was enough to make Andy feel sick to his stomach.
“Red isn’t my boyfriend,” Andy confessed. “I just wanted you to be jealous. But now I have all these feelings and I have been such an asshole to him, so I guess I’m losing him as well.”
Jake’s face changed. Where Andy might have expected sympathy, or even smugness, he had that look where he was about to yell at Andy to eat or sleep or go and see some sunlight this week, for his own good.
“Don’t lose him, Andy,” Jake said seriously. “I know you, and I know you think that whatever mistake you made is too big to come back from, but it’s not. You throw things out too soon.”
That last part sounded especially pointed. Maybe he’d given up on Jake too soon. Maybe not wanting to marry him right that second hadn’t been the fatal flaw in their relationship that he’d imagined.
They’d both moved on now, but still. What if he was making the same mistake again?
What if all he had to do was go home and apologize to Red? Explain about the matchmaking system and the numbers and how they’d made him hesitate when he shouldn’t have. Explain that he couldn’t trust his heart because he knew it was still broken, but he believed that Red could fix it.
He did believe that. Deep down, under all his uncertainty, Andy believed that he and Red would be good together.
And maybe it wouldn’t be forever, and maybe they weren’t going to have the perfect storybook ending either, but did that matter? Was that the most important thing about a relationship?
Andy had learned a lot from Jake, and they’d had a lot of good times together. He’d spent the last year focusing on their last few days, the critical, cascading failure that he’d watched happen in front of his eyes. The feeling of having someone he loved slip through his fingers like a handful of sand.
Why was that? Why couldn’t he let himself take the good things in life and let go of the bad ones? He’d read enough self-help books to know that was what he was meant to do.
“What’s wrong with me, Jake? Be honest, I’m not gonna get mad and you’re leaving anyway.”
“Honestly?” Jake raised an eyebrow. “You know when people call someone a perfectionist, but they don’t mean it as a good thing? You’re a perfectionist, and it’s not a good thing. Nothing living can be perfect. Chasing perfection is only going to make you bitter and angry.”
Andy swallowed. He tended to wear the label perfectionist as a badge of honor, but Andy was right.
At the heart of it, perfectionism was fear. Fear of failing, fear of being seen as vulnerable, as having weaknesses.
For a man like Andy, it was a way of saving himself from ever having to let anyone see what he was really like. Afraid, and lonely, and certain no one could ever love him for who he really was.
Except, Red knew who he really was. H
e’d never been able to hide from him. He’d never even felt the need to try.
He would have been dead now if not for Red. That strange, once in a lifetime bond between them meant something. It had given Andy the confidence not to hide all the things he didn’t like about himself.
“I…” Andy swallowed. “I have to go,” he said, standing to pack up his laptop.
“Good.” Jake smiled. “I’m happy, Andy. I want you to be happy, too.”
As he slung his laptop bag over his shoulder, Andy swooped in and kissed Jake on the cheek. “Send me the wedding details so I can send a gift. Have a good life, Jake,” he murmured into Jake’s ear, then straightened up and headed for the door.
If he was lucky, and he was fast enough, he could get home before Red left for his shift at the fire station.
“You too, Andy,” Jake called after him as he left.
It wasn’t too late. Red would listen because he was too kind for his own good, and Andy would grovel on his knees if he had to.
Red was too good to throw away.
Chapter Twenty
If he hadn’t realized before, Red knew he was obviously sulking when Spot padded up to him and sat down beside him, looking up with his soft, sad brown eyes at Red and making an equally soft, sad sound.
Red had woken up to an empty bed, and he wasn’t sure how to take that. Maybe Andy really had needed to be somewhere urgently this morning, but that had never happened before.
Red couldn’t figure out why, but it felt like Andy had abandoned him.
He hadn’t expected them to pledge themselves to each other for all eternity or anything, but it would have been nice to trade knowing smiles over breakfast. All Red wanted was some acknowledgement that one of the defining moments of his life had happened.
All he wanted was to know that he hadn’t made a mistake.
If last night meant he’d lost Andy’s friendship, he’d never forgive himself. Andy had pushed him out of his comfort zone, encouraged him to put himself out there, boosted his confidence again and again.
He couldn’t afford to lose him. Red had other friends, but Andy was the only one he could talk to about dating, and boys, and sex. Andy made him feel less alone in a way no one else ever had.
It wasn’t completely impossible that he was in love with him.
Even so, he wouldn’t have traded anything for what they’d had over the last couple of months. Definitely not one night together.
“You look like someone died,” Pam said, suddenly appearing at Red’s elbow.
She probably hadn’t just appeared there. Red had been too focused on Spot, and the way he just seemed to know there was something wrong, to notice her.
Apparently, Spot wasn’t the only one.
“Oh, Jesus, someone didn’t die, did they?” she asked, eyes wide. Red shook his head.
“No, no one died. I just…” He sighed heavily. “I think I maybe screwed up a good thing.”
“Is this about Andy?” Pam asked.
Red looked up, shocked. How the hell did she know about Andy?
“That’s his name, right? The boy you brought to the picnic? The one who you claim isn’t your boyfriend.”
“He’s not.” Red wet his lips.
“I’m sensing a but. You have the look of a man with a sore heart,” Pam said softly. “You wanna talk about it?”
“No,” Red said automatically, then reconsidered. “I mean… kind of? It’s… it’s kind of a long story, but Andy was helping me find a boyfriend and I went on all these stupid dates, and then he took me on, like, a fake date, but it was the best one out of all of them.”
Pam narrowed her eyes, peering at Red’s face. “You ever think of telling him that?”
Red swallowed, looking down at Spot again. Spot wouldn’t judge him as long as he could get food out of the fridge. The unconditional love of a dog was straightforward and food-based. “I didn’t think he was interested. But then last night, we, uh… we, umm...” Red’s face heated up as he blushed, the tips of his ears tingling.
“Had sex,” Pam finished for him. Red looked up, blushing even harder.
“What?” Pam raised an eyebrow, a hundred times more effectively than when Red did the same. Andy had told him his eyebrow raise was a work of art, but he’d never met Pam. “I know what sex is. I’ve even had it.”
Red looked back down at Spot, too embarrassed to meet Pam’s eyes. He hadn’t expected to have to discuss this.
“Yeah, well, we did… that… and then this morning he was gone, and he’s never gone in the morning, and I just… I’m afraid I screwed up and now he’s mad at me or something.”
Pam made a sympathetic noise that was eerily like the one Spot had made earlier. Red would normally have hated to be the object of pity, but right now, he kind of needed the support.
“Oh, honey.” She reached out and put a hand on his arm, stroking up and down with her thumb.
Red took a deep breath for what felt like the first time all morning. “It’s okay. I guess I just thought there was more between us than there actually is.”
Pam shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. Not if he ran away. That’s not what someone who’s not interested does. That’s what someone who’s scared does. I think you two need to talk, and I think that needs to happen as soon as possible.”
“Even if I wasn’t working right now, I don’t know where he is.” Red shrugged. “He did that on purpose, so I don’t even know if he’d talk to me…”
“Do you want to keep this boy, or not?” Pam asked, her tone turning sharp.
Red swallowed thickly. He knew the answer. He wanted to keep Andy more than he’d ever wanted anything.
Andy was…
Andy was perfect. Not in the sense that he didn’t have any flaws, but in the sense that he had exactly the flaws that dovetailed with Red’s own. In the sense that together, they made one functional unit.
That was what your partner was supposed to be. Your other half.
“Yes,” Red mumbled, looking down at his feet again. Spot had wandered off, apparently sick of his crap or sensing that someone else had food.
“Then you have to put aside your hurt this time and go get him. That’s just how boys work.”
Smiling wryly, Red considered. Pam was probably right—if both of them avoided talking about… whatever was happening between them, then it would be over.
Red didn’t want that. He wanted last night to have been the start of something, not the end.
If he didn’t at least try, he’d regret it for the rest of his life.
“Call him,” Pam urged. “You’ll feel so much better if you talk.”
Red took out his phone automatically, but then hesitated. Would Andy pick up? What the hell was he going to say?
His hand shook as he stared at the screen, fear of rejection washing over him. He didn’t want to end up crying at work. Logically, he knew that no one would give him crap for it—they’d all been through things that had made them cry here—but he still didn’t want another layer of vulnerability on top of the way he was feeling today.
“What do I tell him?” Red asked, looking to Pam for advice again.
Pam smiled kindly and patted his arm. “Start with I love you. Everything after that comes a lot easier.”
Red’s stomach clenched. Did he love Andy?
He did love Andy.
He loved Andy.
Now that he thought about it, it seemed so obvious. He wouldn’t have felt like this about the possibility of losing him if his feelings didn’t run that deep.
Could he tell him that, though? He’d just realized himself, and he wasn’t sure exactly what size and shape that love was, and all of this was unfairly confusing.
Red liked to be pointed at a problem he understood and tasked with solving it. He didn’t understand any of this, at all. All he could think of was how scared he was that Andy wouldn’t be there when he got home, that Andy wouldn’t be in his life anymore.
&nbs
p; Just as his thumb was hovering over Andy’s contact details, the station alarm sounded.
Red had never been so relieved in his life. This gave him a little time.
“I gotta go,” he said to Pam. “But I will call him when we get back. Promise.”
“Good boy.” Pam smiled at him. “Go be a hero, then come back and get your man.”
Despite himself, Red laughed at that.
When he got back, he’d tell Andy how he felt. Whatever happened after that, at least he’d tried his best.
Chapter Twenty-One
When Andy realized he’d gotten home too late to catch Red before work, his heart sank. For a moment, it felt as though he’d lost his chance, and all the momentum, all the determination he’d built up on the walk home left him, turning him into a puppet with cut strings.
He curled up on the couch to sulk, wishing he hadn’t been so stupid this morning. Now Red had gone out thinking Andy hated him.
Knowing he wasn’t going to get anything else done today, Andy flicked the TV on for background noise, kicked off his shoes, and lay down on the couch, staring up at the ceiling.
He couldn’t stand the thought of being alone, so daytime TV would have to substitute for human companionship.
What if he’d lost Red for good? He’d never forgive himself for that. He’d been so close to a good thing, maybe the best thing that had ever happened to him, and here he was. Too stupid to see what he had, too much of a coward to take a risk.
Everything he’d done since he met Red had been dictated by a set of rules he’d made up for himself. The algorithm he’d written gave him the answers he wanted, not necessarily answers that reflected reality.
He’d defend his methods to his death, but deep down, he knew that real people weren’t just data points. He wasn’t a data point, and neither was Red.
He’d written the stupid thing, and he could choose to ignore it.
He could choose to ignore it, because he remembered what love felt like, and this was it. He hadn’t thought about anyone else for weeks. He’d stopped even glancing sideways at other men, or wishing he had what cute couples did.
Red Hot Page 10
