by Eden Finley
Guess he saved the spark for Max, who, as it turns out, isn’t as unobtainable as Jordan thought.
I blink away tears, but my cheeks are already wet. I hadn’t cried when I walked out on Taylor. I should have. He was my fiancé, for fuck’s sake. Yet, here I am crying over yet another Strömberg brother.
Only, I don’t know why I’m crying. Is it because he was always this awesome guy who was straight, and now he’s a liar who isn’t? Or is it the fact he went gay for Jordan but not for me?
It’s always somebody else.
Traffic is a bitch, and there must be an accident or something along the way because it takes twice as long to get to Milton as it usually does, and by that time, I’m all out of tears, patience, and maybe sanity.
If the Uber guy notices my meltdown, he doesn’t say anything.
Five stars to the dude who pretends I’m not slobbering all over his back seat.
And then, of course, the universe decides to really put me through the wringer when we pull up to my parents’ house. There, on the porch of the Strömberg house, right in the line of sight of my mother and father’s driveway next door, is Ollie with his boyfriend, Lennon … Clark … whatever the fuck that guy’s name is.
For someone who lives in New York now, I’ve seen Ollie more these last few months than the six months after the breakup where we lived in the same city.
So when I climb out of the Uber, I hold my head high and smile tight, pretending I’m just home for a random visit with the folks.
Here’s the thing about Ollie though. He’s known me just as long as Max has known me. For four years, I was this guy’s partner and we knew each other’s tells. We knew when the other was upset with one look, and when Ollie’s face falls as he meets my gaze, I know I’m not covering my hurt enough.
He says something to his boyfriend, who nods and squeezes Ollie’s hand before Ollie ambles down the steps of the porch and heads in my direction.
Great. Just great.
I contemplate running into the house and locking the door, but you know, I’m supposed to be three years older than Ollie, who’s clearly going to be the bigger person right now and make sure I’m okay.
Damn it. Why can’t he just be an asshole so it’s easier to hate him?
“Everything okay?” are the first words out his mouth.
“Of course,” I croak and then fucking break down and start crying again.
“Shit.”
I’m engulfed by Ollie’s big, tattooed arms.
“I’m not your problem anymore,” I mumble into his T-shirt. “You don’t need to deal with all”—I wave my hand around—“this. Why are you home anyway?”
“Just visiting the parentals.” Ollie pulls back but keeps his hands firmly on my shoulders. His hazel eyes, that match his mom’s but are nothing like Max’s, stare at me in pity. Or maybe concern. I don’t know. I guess I can’t read him as well as he can still read me. “Just because we aren’t together, it doesn’t mean I don’t care. We’re practically family, Ash. Have been since we were kids. I will always care.”
I nod behind him toward his boyfriend. “He have anything to say about that?”
Ollie turns toward Clark, and the smile that lights up his face doesn’t do tingly things to me like it used to when he smiled at me. It just reiterates that he has someone else now, and I have … no one.
“Lennon’s cool,” Ollie says. “I promise.”
If we were still together, I’d hate for him to care about an ex, but I guess that’s the point, isn’t it? In true relationships, the type of love I’m looking for, there’s a thing called trust and the blind reassurance that your partner is the only one for you.
I sigh. “I don’t suppose you left our old apartment to sit there empty when you moved to New York, did you?” I already know the answer, because I was there to get all our furniture in storage when he was traded to New York. I had to vacate the apartment of all our belongings so other people could move in, but I figure telling him that way is easier than blurting out Taylor and I are no longer engaged.
“Why—aww fuck. You broke up with what’s-his-face?”
“Yeah.” The ground is super interesting to look at right now. “But it was my decision. It wasn’t … right, and as soon as I said something, I learned he felt the same way.” My eye catches on my ring. “Fuck, I should’ve left this with him.”
Now I’ve noticed it, there’s nothing more I want than to get the damn thing off, but as soon as I start tugging on it, the fucker gets stuck.
“Ash.” Ollie gives me a little shake, but I don’t stop trying to get the symbol of my stupidity off my finger. “Ash,” he says again.
“What?” I snap.
“What’s really going on?” Ollie’s voice is soft and tender, reminding me of the guy I fell for—you know, before we started resenting each other.
It makes me want to pour my heart out to him, but I can’t. Because out of everything that happened today, the only thing I’m truly upset about is Max, and no way am I going to out Max to his brother. Especially when it wasn’t his choice to come out to me.
I shake my head. “It’s nothing. My friend Jordan did something stupid. On top of the Taylor thing … Seriously, Ollie. This isn’t your problem anymore. One good thing about breaking up is you don’t have to deal with my flair for the dramatic.” I manage a smile, which he matches.
“Turns out I’m a bit of a drama queen myself.”
I mock gasp. “No way.”
He chuckles. “I know we can’t be friends or whatever because that’d just be too …”
“Weird. The word you’re looking for is weird.”
Ollie smirks. “Right. But that doesn’t mean you can’t come to me when shit’s too hard, okay?”
I nod, but it doesn’t take the sting away from the truth. It turns out there is a less-than-straight version of Max out there, and he still doesn’t want me.
I’m always someone’s second choice.
Even my best friend’s.
3
Max
Shit, shit, fucking shit.
I barely remember chasing after Ash without so much as a goodbye to Jordan. All I remember is running for my car. But now I’m driving around aimlessly, because when I rushed to Ash’s apartment, all I found was a pissed-off Taylor telling me I’d won. Ash had left him.
I was back in the car before I could ask why or what he meant by I’d won.
If Ash couldn’t go home or to the shop, there’s only one place he’d go.
I make a U-ey, and head for Milton.
The radio says the I-93 is backed up because of an accident, so I take an alternate route, but I am so not prepared for what I find when I pull up outside my childhood home.
Ash. With Ollie.
This past year, all the times I’ve thought I wanted Ash and Ollie to get back together because it’s easier for me if they are? Seeing them now makes me realize they can’t go back. I don’t want them to go back.
I want Ash to see me. To choose me. To be with me.
But then I look at my brother, and I know I can’t hurt him that way.
I throw my head back on the headrest of my seat.
Even though I can’t be with Ash, I want to explain Jordan. He’s owed at least that much.
With a deep breath, I get out of the car and approach them.
“Max,” Ollie says with a furrowed brow.
I ignore him and focus on Ash, but I don’t know where to start. Or finish. “Jordan and I didn’t mean anything. At all.”
Ash’s eyes bug out of his head as his gaze flits from mine to Ollie’s and back again.
“Didn’t mean to do what?” Ollie asks.
God, this is not the time for this, but I turn to my brother. “Ash found me … uh, with a guy.”
“With my other best friend,” Ash supplies unhelpfully.
“Can we have a minute to talk this out?” I ask Ollie.
He doesn’t move. Only looks confused.
“You’re not straight? Since when?”
“Since, I dunno, when-the-fuck-ever. Didn’t realize I had to make an application to join your club. Can I please just talk to Ash?”
Ollie glances between us, and I see the hint of accusation without him having to say anything. He doesn’t voice it though. Instead he brings up something much worse. “You know Ma’s gonna throw you a ridiculous coming-out party, so please come out to her while I’m here to witness it.”
There’s going to be our brothers’ taunts, our parents’ inappropriateness, and yes, an over-the-top coming-out party, but hey, at least it’s one thing I don’t have to worry about when it comes to finally expressing this side of me out loud. My family will accept me no matter what.
“Fuck,” I hiss. Because he’s so right. Eh, I’ll deal with that later.
He backs away with a giant grin. When Ollie’s finally out of earshot, I turn to Ash and hate what I see. Hurt, betrayal, and confusion all rolled into that pouty face he gets when he’s upset.
“Ash, I—”
“You don’t owe me an explanation.”
“I want to give you an explanation.”
“Why? It’s your life, and clearly you don’t think I have any right to it.”
“Because I didn’t tell you this one little thing about me? That’s not fair.”
“You know what’s not fair?” Ash yells. “Being hung up on a straight guy for years, letting him go, and then finding out he’s not so straight, he just didn’t want me.”
I stumble back as if his words physically push me. “What?”
“I accepted we were never going to happen. I accepted that I was the sad, cliched gay guy in love with his straight best friend, and I moved on. And I was happy. Now, everything is fucked-up. Everything I thought I knew is wrong, and I don’t even know what the hell is going on anymore. I was sure Ollie would choose me. That Taylor would be upset if I ended it. That you would be there for me through it all. But you’re just like them.”
“Ash, wait. Just … wait. Please.”
“For what?”
I run my hands through my hair. “How do I explain six years of swallowing my feelings for you?”
“I … wait, what?”
“I didn’t want to risk what we had, and you were in love with my brother. How do I explain that I’ve been hurting for so long but had the silver lining of you getting everything you ever wanted?”
“Y-you—”
“I hate myself for not telling you in college how I felt about you.”
“C-college?”
This is a lot to put on him at once, but I don’t stop. I’m on a roll now. “I can’t look you in the eye, realizing everything could’ve been different if I’d told you sooner. Then I was too late, and now it’s still too late. We can’t be together, Ash, no matter how much I fucking want you. No matter how pathetically depressed I’ve been over you finding Taylor and planning a future I could never have with you. Jordan … he—”
Ash holds up his hand. “I don’t want to know.”
I ignore him. “He was a substitute for the guy I actually want. He knows it, and I know it. It didn’t mean anything. All we did was make out a little. It was the first time with Jordan—with any guy. We just both got sick of me pining over you, and I thought it’d be a solution to getting over my inappropriate feelings. It was a mistake, because while he was kissing me, I still couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Ash closes his eyes. “You never told me,” he whispers. “This whole time … and you never … you never told me!”
“Ollie. He’s still my brother.”
As if finally realizing my dilemma, he slumps. “Fuck.”
“Exactly.”
Ash glances up at my parents’ house. “What are we supposed to do now?”
Dejected, I sigh. “What we’ve always done. Swallow our shit down and pretend it doesn’t exist.”
That’s what we should do. What I want to do is throw Ash against the nearest surface and show him how much I’ve wanted him for six years. Show him that he’s worthy of a guy who thinks the fucking world of him and will always put him above all else.
Then I look at the house where my brother disappeared into not mere minutes ago and know why I can’t do those things.
“Well, this sucks,” Ash says.
I snort. “Understatement.”
“I’m … I’m gonna stay with my folks for a while.”
“You don’t have to. Move back in with me.”
I can’t lose Ash. I’d rather be forbidden to touch him but still have him in my life than lose him completely. I’ll hate it, but it’s better than the alternative.
Ash shakes his head. “I think that’d be too hard. I kinda need to … process. Not just you and Jordan, but Taylor and all that other bullshit.”
“What happened with that?”
“I realized I wanted what he was offering, not him.”
I want to reach for him, and it kills me that I can’t. This morning, I wouldn’t have hesitated. Now? It’s all weird and awkward, and even though we haven’t crossed any lines, it feels like we have.
“I’m sorry he didn’t end up being what you were looking for. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
“Guess I know why you haven’t had a serious girlfriend since college.”
I laugh. “God, my family is gonna have a field day.”
Ash grins. “Yeah, they are. I hope I can be there for it.”
My face falls. “I want you there for my torment.”
“Max … I … need time.”
“How long?” My heart stutters, anticipating the very thing I was afraid of when it comes to having these feelings for Ash.
Ash shakes his head. “I don’t know.”
Fuck.
I amble up to my childhood home, hating that Ash is in the house next door, not wanting to see me.
I’ll walk into this house, I’ll tell my overbearing family that I’m into guys as well as girls, and I’ll endure their weird quirkiness. That doesn’t worry me, though I’m not looking forward to it. It’s that I have to do it without Ash by my side that I’m dreading.
We’ve literally done everything together since grade school. I was the first person to find out he’s gay, and I was there when he came out to his parents. He was the first person I told when I’d lost my virginity, and the only person who knows my irrational fear of clowns. If I’d ever told my family that, I could guarantee all my brothers would turn up to my birthday dressed in clown masks.
Ash has been by my side through everything, and it’s only taken a day to tear all of that down.
A moment.
All because I was with Jordan.
Shit, Jordan.
I get out my phone and find a string of texts from him.
Jordan: Okay, this is a new one. I’ve driven guys away before but never one from his own apartment.
* * *
Hello? Are you coming back?
* * *
Uh … well this is awks.
* * *
Okay, super weird now. At least let me know you’re okay and haven’t been kidnapped by a gang and sold into sex slavery?
* * *
As I reach the porch, I detour to the sitting area and hit Call on Jordan’s number.
“Max?”
“Nah, this is the, uh, Booty Cartel. Max’s ass belongs to us now.”
“Well, shit, I was totally planning on paying a ransom, but by the sound of that, Max will have the time of his life. Give him my well wishes.”
“Asshole.” I laugh.
“But really, dude? Booty Cartel? Worst fake gang name ever.”
“It’s all I could come up with on the spot. So, listen, I’m kinda cleaning up the Ash mess at the moment.”
“How pissed is he?”
“I think you’re fine. He’s more mad at me for not telling him I’m not exactly straight.”
“Which is still entertaining to me considering you’
ve been in love with him forever.”
“Yeah, yeah. Some people aren’t as perceptive as you.”
“I’m one of a kind. It’s true.”
“And so humble.”
Jordan chuckles. “You gonna be okay? You need moral support or anything?”
“Nah, all good. I’m at my parents’ place now. Kinda outed myself to my little brother, so I guess the rest of the family is next.”
“Whoa, for real? You sure you don’t want me to come, then?”
“Thanks for the offer, but this has been a long time coming. I’m ready.”
“Well, uh, I would apologize for being the catalyst that made you take this step, but you’re right. It has been a long time. So instead, I’m going to say you’re welcome.”
I laugh. “Of course you are.”
The line goes silent.
“Are we cool?” Jordan asks.
“I’m good if you are. I mean, what happened—”
“It was nothing. I get it. If all I had to do to get you to stop hating me was make out with you, I would’ve done it years ago.”
I scoff. “Like I would’ve let you years ago.”
“I definitely would’ve tried.”
“I know you would have. In fact, I’m pretty sure you did? Why do I have a sudden memory of going to the movies with you and Ash, only Ash mysteriously didn’t turn up, and when I asked him, he had no idea what I was talking about?”
There’s a quick silence before Jordan’s laugh breaks through. “You’re delusional. I don’t recall that at all. Maybe in your dreams?”
Of course Jordan wouldn’t admit to it. He’s got too much ego for that.
“Well, it was eye-opening to say the least,” I say.
“Glad I could help. Now go get your man.”
“Don’t think that’s gonna happen either, but thanks.”
Jordan grunts. “Now it’s all out there, don’t fuck it up by keeping your mouth shut. Taylor doesn’t compare to you.”
Oh. Right. Jordan doesn’t know. “Uh, they broke up.”
Another warm laugh. “Can I be best man at your wedding?”
