Guys on the Bottom - Guys Book Three

by Darien Cox

  But we ended up laughing and having a good time after the heavy talk, and I felt worlds better after seeing her. Yeah, I was feeling that down. So down I’d wanted my damn mommy. And it helped.

  Doug texted and asked if I’d talked to Duncan. I’d replied, ‘Yes. It’s over.’ Typing those words stung. Doug sent his sympathies, asked if I wanted to talk, but I said no. I’d poured an avalanche of my shit and drama onto the guy lately, and he deserved a break.

  I didn’t know what I was going to do with my night off. I was beyond heartbroken, so sitting home was probably a bad idea, but my head was spinning and I couldn’t seem to make any decisions. When I got back to my apartment it was edging toward evening, so I plopped down on my bed, eating a bag of Doritos because I didn’t want to cook and wasn’t giving a shit about my health at the moment. At least it was cool in my apartment, thanks to Duncan’s air conditioning gift. Yeah, he wasn’t getting that back.

  My phone bleeped with a text, and I was surprised to see it was from Robert.

  I chuckled when I read it. Robert wanted me to go out with him, his boyfriend, and one of their friends. A double date. I declined. I was in no condition to be pursuing a potential romance. My confidence was below zero after Duncan effectively expressed he was just not that into me. And that aside, I was still in love with him. There was no way I could drag my lovesick ass out on a date.

  I showered and changed into my rattiest sweats, the ones with a hole in one knee and paint stains. I kept them around because they were comfortable as hell, and right now they felt like a security blanket. I’d just settled down to watch movies on my computer when another text popped up. From Corey, of all people.

  ‘Hey. Doug told me where you were living, hope that’s okay. I’m outside your building. Are you home? I want to talk.’

  Giving my head a quick shake, I read it twice more, making sure I wasn’t imagining things. I went to my window and looked down on the street below. People were shuffling by on the sidewalk, cars passing, and I spotted Corey’s blond hair. He leaned against a lamppost, looking at his phone, casual but sexy in loose faded jeans and a gray tee shirt.

  I texted him back. ‘I’m home. Unit 401. I’ll buzz you up.’

  “Holy shit, why the hell is he here?” I muttered as I glanced around at my apartment. I was a pretty neat person, but I’d come home this afternoon in a sloppy, rebellious mood after talking with Duncan. I quickly tidied up my bed, brushing Dorito dust off the pillow, then went in the kitchen and transported some dishes left out on the counter into the sink. That was as good as it was going to get on short notice.

  I hoped Corey wasn’t here to lecture or scold, but if he was, it was at his own peril. Especially if it concerned Duncan. I was in a foul mood, and would take his holistic ass down if he even looked at me derisively right now. I jumped when three hard knocks sounded. Ran fingers through my messy hair, decided I didn’t give a shit, and went and answered the door.

  Corey was handsome and glowing as always, but his shoulders were hunched tight and there was nervousness in his eyes. “Hi, Zach.”

  “Hey,” I said. “Come in.”

  “Thank you.” He stepped inside and immediately went to the sofa and sat down, apparently too preoccupied to make a snide comment about my apartment. “Wasn’t sure you’d let me in.”

  I walked over and sat on the floor in front of him. “Why, should I not have? You planning to shiv me or something?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “I want to apologize for that voicemail. And since in hindsight, it was pretty fucking nasty, like eleven on a scale of one to ten, I figured I should do it in person.”

  “All right. But I wasn’t overly affected by it. I know you. I know how you wig out when something catches you off guard. I just couldn’t believe you thought I was that diabolical. I’m not some evil vixen in a soap opera, Corey. But maybe I should take it as a compliment.”

  “I’m sorry.” Chuckling, he bowed his head. “Yeah. Apparently, everything’s not about me, right Zach?”

  I smirked. “Most things are. But not everything.”

  His eyes lifted. “Thanks for being cool about it. Anyway, I am really sorry. It was just weird. Hearing that you and Duncan…” He actually shuddered and rubbed his arms like he had chills.

  I barked out a laugh. “Jesus Christ, Corey. You’re not gonna vomit, are you?”

  “I’m sorry!” He laughed. “It’s just weird.”

  “I get it, you made your point, quite succinctly.”

  He drummed his fingers on his thighs. “I wanted to mention the other part of your text, too.”

  “What other part?”

  “About you feeling humiliated about our past and all that. I don’t want you to. I take some responsibility for it. I hope you’ve let all that go.”

  “It took a long time, but I have. But none of it’s on you. I’m sorry things got so fucked up.”

  He sighed and hunched over, eyes on the floor. “I just want to get a couple things off my chest, okay?” He looked at me. “I could ignore certain aspects of this before, because your past actions made it so easy to blame you. But I’ve had a lot of time to reflect, and you deserve to hear this.”

  I shrugged. “Okay.”

  “I know that by the time I was ready for commitment, I’d already put you through hell. I knew you were in love with me, and I kept on fucking other people. Practically threw it in your face. It affected you. I mean, of course it affected you. I’m sure that’s part of why it was a tough transition when we went solo. Why it was so hard for you to trust me. So for that, I’m sorry.”

  I shifted on the floor, taking a deep breath, everything surreal suddenly. “I appreciate that,” I said. “Thank you. And I’m sorry I was such a fucking…basket-case back then. I didn’t make it easy on you.”

  “Let’s just say we both screwed up and leave it at that.”

  “Deal.”

  He extended his hand. “Friends?”

  I hesitated. “You want to be friends?”

  He nodded. “You gonna leave me hangin?”

  I chuckled and shook his hand. “Okay. Friends.”

  “Good. Now Doug can stop sneaking around and not telling me when he meets you like he’s cheating on me or something.”

  I grinned. “I’m not trying to steal your bestie. We just get along. He’s a good listener.”

  “He is. Speaking of, I told him I was coming here. He said to ask if you want to come down to The Horse and Carriage tonight.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah. Bunch of us are going down. Good times, bad music, lots of booze. You know the drill.”

  “I don’t know. Would that be weird?”

  “Only if you make it weird. Hey, Doug said you might be kind of bummed out tonight. You all right?”

  I stiffened. I doubted Doug told Corey about what was going on with Duncan, but… “Did Doug say why I might be bummed out?”

  “No, he wouldn’t tell me details. Just that you were. And he thought we should invite you out.”

  “Do you want me to come out?”

  “Yeah, it’ll be fun. We’re doing pregame drinks over at Doug and Stewart’s. Then we’ll all head out. You should come with me right now. Though you’ll have to change out of those fucking depressing sweatpants.”

  “I don’t know. Stewart intimidates me.”

  “Oh please. Stewart couldn’t intimidate a slug. I just left there and he was on the couch eating a donut and watching Bugs Bunny.”

  I smiled. “He still likes his donuts, huh?”

  “Oh yeah. Good thing his job keeps him active, fucker doesn’t even work out, eats crap all the time, and he still looks hot as fuck. Not really fair if you ask me.”

  I chuckled, then cocked an eyebrow. “I know you’re getting married and all, but do you ever miss Stewart?”

  “I don’t have to, I see him all the time. If you mean romantically, no. I’m madly in love with Angelo. Stewart kind of feels like…well, a cousin
or something to me now. A friend, but closer, you know?”

  I nodded. This felt good. Comfortable. I’d missed Corey. But like him and Stewart, this didn’t feel romantic anymore. Just…nice. “Maybe someday you and I can be close again,” I said. “Be able to just hang out without it being awkward.”

  His brows rose. “So? Let’s start tonight. Go get dressed. And I do like your hair longer, but it’s kind of a mess right now, so you should probably fix that too.”

  I grinned and ran my fingers through my hair. “Are you dressing up for karaoke?”

  “Not tonight. It’s too damn hot to be fucking around with that shit. We just want to go drink, watch other people make asses out of themselves for a change. What do you say?”

  Going out with Corey and the old guard was the last thing I ever thought I’d be considering tonight. But he didn’t seem to have a clue that his uncle just dumped me. Or I suppose I dumped him. Either way, Doug was good about keeping our talks private. And to be honest, I needed this tonight. Needed something comforting and familiar, regardless of the crossed connections and mountains of shared baggage. If the rest of them could be friends after their pasts, then why not me?

  “Okay.” I climbed to my feet. “Thanks.”

  “Yes!” Corey clapped his hands. “Doug bet me twenty bucks I couldn’t talk you into it.”

  “Oh, so you’re making money off of this.”

  Shocking the hell out of me, Corey got up, caught me in a tight hug and tried to pick me up.

  “What are you doing?” I laughed. “Fucking weirdo.”

  “Ugh, you got heavy!” He dropped me back on my feet. “Damn, you put on some muscle, you little shit.” He slapped my back before releasing me. “Now go get dressed.”

  “Did you drive here?”

  “Yeah. My car’s not far. Why?”

  “Because you’re standing in my bedroom. And I’m not getting naked in front of you.”

  Corey glanced around. “Oh. Yeah. This place is fucking small, Zach.”

  “No shit.”

  “I’ll wait for you in the car. I’m parked in front of the pizza place.”

  “Thanks. Give me ten minutes.”

  “But hey,” he said as he started for the door. “You should be able to get a new place now that my uncle promoted you, right?”

  Goddamn it. We’d almost made it, almost got away with not having to say anything about Duncan. “I don’t work for Duncan anymore.”

  Corey turned back, brows pinched. “You don’t? What happened?”

  I winced. “Is it all right if we don’t talk about that tonight?”

  He held my gaze for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, sure. Topic stays off the menu, I promise.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Okay, be quick! I’ll see you downstairs.”

  I combed my hair, then put on jeans and a plain white tee shirt. The outfit was a little boring and Rebel Without a Cause, but it wasn’t like I was going to see Duncan, so I didn’t care how I looked.

  I grabbed my keys and picked up my phone, then my stomach lurched when I saw I had a text from Duncan.

  ‘I’m sorry I hurt you. I’ve been confused by you since we met, but I never intended to toy with your feelings. For what it’s worth, I did not sleep with Shaylin. Or anyone else since our overnight date at the island. There’s been no one else.’

  My lips tightened and I shook my head. There’s been no one else. And still I wasn’t good enough for him to commit to. Sadness welled inside me. I thought about just ignoring him. But even post-breakup, I wanted to try to handle things like an adult. So I replied.

  ‘Thanks. It is what it is.’

  I started for the door when he texted back. Shit, now suddenly the man was Johnny-on-the-spot about getting back to me? Now that it no longer mattered?

  ‘You sure you can’t come over, just to talk, Zach?’

  “God damn you,” I muttered. Twist the knife a little deeper, Duncan. As if I could go over to his house just to talk. Gimme a fucking break. Every time I got within ten feet of the guy my dick got hard. I wrote him back.

  ‘I’m going out with Corey.’

  ‘???????’

  ‘I know, weird, but I need drinks with old friends tonight. Have a good night.’

  Seeming to give up the game finally, Duncan didn’t respond. I headed out the door, hoping I could shake off this crushing sadness. The depression would be back tomorrow. Hopefully I could just put it on hold for a while and try to enjoy myself tonight.

  The Other Stengel had broken my heart and crushed my spirit. Now it was time to see if The Original Stengel could perhaps lift it back up a little.

  Chapter Twenty

  Riding through Jamaica Plain beside Corey in his little two-seater sports car felt both familiar and totally fucking new, like déjà vu crashing into an alternate dimension. Corey didn’t seem to be feeling the same weirdness. But then this was Corey. Never in my days had I met someone so devoid of the ability to feel discomfort. It was one of the reasons I’d fallen for him, so polar opposite from me I’d been gobsmacked and couldn’t look away. When I’d first met Corey, I’d been carrying a Santa Claus sized sack of fears. About the world. Being gay. Whether people liked me. The state of the economy. You name it, and I found a way to worry about it. And Corey’s answer to it all had been ‘Fuck it’. Those two words, a gospel I bowed to when it flowed from his perfect lips, but had never managed to synthesize.

  Windows rolled down, the stereo at peak volume, Corey’s blond hair rippled in the wind as he sang loudly along to ‘Seven Nation Army’ by The White Stripes, slapping his hands on the steering wheel. It was surreal looking at Corey after so long being estranged, viewing him from a new perspective. I used to view him as the air I breathed, the one I fit with, the jam in my jelly roll. But now it was like observing an alien species, an odd beast that gave no fucks and maintained hair so perfect even the wind was no match. I’d tried to tame that beast once. No wonder I had emotional backsplash.

  Stewart and Doug lived on one of the nice little back roads off Centre Street, lots of flowering shrubs and cute apartment houses with polished sidewalks. Corey pulled the car in behind Stewart’s plumbing van, and I saw Doug’s car and another I didn’t recognize beside us. When he shut the engine off I could already hear laughter and male voices, and Corey said, “Come on, everyone’s out back.”

  I closed the car door then hesitated, awkward and nervous.

  Corey smiled at me as he rounded the car. “What’s the matter?”

  “Who’s here? Do they know I’m coming?”

  “Oh for fuck sakes.” Corey grabbed my arm and tugged me along the side of the house toward the back yard. “Quit being shy.”

  I laughed and yanked my arm back as I followed him. “I’ve always been shy.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. I forgot. But you already know these people. And I’ll get you a beer right away. Relax.”

  I heard reggae music as we entered the fenced-in back yard, and I did relax a little when I saw Doug at a picnic table. Stewart and Angelo stood nearby talking over a large cooler. The back door of the house opened and a tall thin man with golden brown skin and black curly hair stepped out, holding a bottle of tequila in one hand, and a stack of little plastic shot glasses in the other. He did a double take when he saw me and Corey, then stopped dead. “Is that fucking Zach?”

  I smiled. “Hi, Jairo.”

  “Hey.” He grinned, but looked confused. “How you been?”

  “Good. Where’s Rod?”

  “He had to work.”

  “Oh. Well, tell him I said hi.”

  “I will.” Jairo looked at Corey. “I thought you were going to the store for ice, not ex-boyfriend shopping.”

  “Yes, Jairo. Zach is here. Everyone! Zach is here! Get the shock and awe out of your systems, he’s coming out with us.”

  I rolled my eyes. I’d forgotten how obnoxious Corey was, which emphasized just how long it’d been since we’d hung out, be
cause that was just his personality.

  “That’s great,” Jairo said. “But where’s the ice?”

  “I forgot it,” Corey said.

  “Of course you did. Okay, warm tequila shots, coming up.” Jairo walked to the picnic table and set down the bottle.

  Doug got up and walked over to us. “No fucking way.” He laughed. “You talked him into coming?”

  “Twenty bucks,” Corey said. “Pay up.”

  “Aw, man. I’ll pay you later.” Doug gave me a quick hug, and muttered, “You all right?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be all right.”

  “Glad you’re here. You coming out with us?”

  “Yeah.”

  Stewart glanced over and I met his gaze. He smiled tightly then turned away, leaning down to open the cooler. Angelo strolled over, looking gorgeous in a pale blue tee shirt that matched his eyes. “Hello, Zach.”

  “Hi. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. Want a beer?”

  “Yeah. Sure, thanks.”

  “I got it.”

  I looked up, surprised to see Stewart standing there, a beer in his outstretched hand. “Oh. Thanks, Stewart.”

  “No problem,” he said, then wandered over to the picnic table where Jairo was pouring shots.

  “See,” Corey said to me. “Stewart’s not gonna pummel you. Chill out.”

  I chilled out. We all ended up sitting around drinking, and after a time the banter and laughter and mellow reggae music calmed me, and I actually started to enjoy myself. “Who’s driving, by the way?” I asked as Jairo slid a tequila shot in front of me.

  “I am,” Angelo said. “I’m not drinking. We’ll take Stewart’s van.”

  I snickered. “Really?”

  “What?” Angelo said. “Is that funny?”

  “I just can’t picture you driving a plumbing van.”

  “Hey!” Stewart sat across from me, his dark hair a tangle of wild waves, his nice blue eyes narrowed. “Nothing wrong with my van.”