Ex-Daredevil

by Zoe Lee

  “I’ve got choices for you,” Gavin said. “This one’s mine.”

  “What?” I asked, feeling a little dazed.

  “Part two of this Daring Date requires a costume change,” he explained. “Come on, which one looks good to you?” he asked distractedly as he tugged out a short-sleeved button-down paisley in the color of a male peacock’s feathers, shiny and amazing.

  “I—” I stuttered, for once unrelated to the sight of him stripping off his layers.

  He looked up once he’d done the last button on the paisley shirt, and I must have had on a contorted expression because he frowned. “You okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”

  “I—no, no. You know I just don’t… wear colorful clothes.”

  “I don’t get why not,” he laughed. “They’d make your sexy green eyes pop even more.”

  I flushed and forced myself to reach out with steady hands to look at each of them. God, why did this have to be happening right now? I had just skirted bad memories from back in college, and now I was here faced with something else I’d put aside back then too.

  But my fingers spread and slid through the assortment of shirts, all in colors and patterns that complemented my coloring, something I’d forced myself to stop considering years ago, sticking to black, white and grays. I petted the embroidery on the neckline of one. I closed my eyes and fought to keep my breathing cool, then quickly tugged off my thermal and sweater and put on whatever shirt was under my right hand.

  I felt Gavin’s quick fingers smoothing the stretch polyester blend fabric over my shoulders and then untwisting it at my hips. “Look at you,” he said. “Mm.”

  My eyes darted up to the mirror and I froze. The shirt was lemongrass and had a deep, stretched-out vee neck, banded around my biceps and bunched a little at my hips.

  I didn’t notice my phone buzzing in my pocket until it stopped, then started up immediately again. I had to tear my eyes away from my own reflection, almost in shock at seeing myself in colors again after so long, but fear hit me when I saw who was calling.

  “Camdon?” I demanded. “Why are you calling me?”

  “Mr. Navarre?” a stranger inquired.

  “Yes,” I replied suspiciously. “Why do you have my friend’s phone?”

  Gavin gasped and reached out to grab my free arm.

  “My name is Anna Ocampo, I’m a nurse at the Evanston Hospital ER,” she explained, her matter-of-factness the only thing keeping me calm. “Mr. Gaines came in with a fractured wrist and he asked me to call you while he’s getting the bone reset, are you able to—”

  “I’m on my way right now, will you tell him, please?” I interrupted.

  “Of course, Mr. Navarre.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Ocampo,” I said gratefully.

  Gavin took my phone while he said, all business, “I’m ordering a ride, so let’s move so we don’t miss it. Tell me why Camdon called you instead of his boyfriend on the way.”

  It only took a couple minutes to gather up the other clothes, then another few to get to the pick up location for the car, and by then, I had a pounding headache and felt guilty.

  “It’s just a broken wrist,” I explained once we were in the car and had given brief greetings to the driver and asked him to turn down the music. “He asked the nurse to call me because the Gainses are a loud bunch and sometimes embarrassing. And Quincy cannot keep any secrets from his wife, or any of his other in-laws, so he’s out of the question too.”

  “I broke my right wrist twice, so I know he’ll be fine,” he said in his best teasing, sassy tone even though his hand was smoothing up and down my back. “So I can’t wait to see him—he’s going to be on painkillers and he’s going to spill embarrassing stories about you.”

  Groaning, I dug my fingers into my temples.

  “But you can tell me some embarrassing stories about him while we’re on the way to the hospital,” he added. “Level the playing field. Or weigh it in your favor, if you dare.”

  I leaned into his touch a little and said quietly, “I’m sorry this is ruining your plans.”

  His jaw fell open and then he scoffed. “Since we decided that we’re boyfriends, I’ve done a lot of research on relationships. One of the things that advice-givers are unanimous about is that it would make me a complete dickbag if I was actually upset right now.”

  That startled a laugh out of me, a release of some of the pressure of worry.

  “Part two was just going to an arcade to play some games and some Dance Dance Revolution,” he explained with a careless shrug. “I just thought it would be daring for you to make an ass of yourself by losing horrifically and publically to me. I’ll take a rain check. I didn’t spend five hundred bucks and it’s not our ten-year anniversary. If it was, I’d expect you to call another friend and tell them to take care of Camdon because you had big plans.”

  My heart tripped at ten-year anniversary, but I stayed focused. “Very reasonable.”

  “See? You’re rubbing off on me already!” he cried.

  “You and Camdon are going to love ganging up on me,” I groaned in resignation.

  Chapter 26

  Gavin

  Luckily, I hadn’t spent that much time in hospitals, other than injuries that were results of accidents while doing my dangerous hobbies. So I had nothing but love and respect for healthcare professionals and found the antiseptic look and smell comforting.

  But I still held Eliott’s hand once we got out at the hospital’s emergency entrance, keeping it as we got directions to Camdon’s room and went through the confusing halls.

  There were six beds in the room, divided by blue curtains that looked like tissue paper. Camdon was grinning dopily at a cute nurse at his side, one arm in a black cast on a pillow.

  “Camdon,” Eliott exclaimed, his voice still at a polite, low volume in deference to the other occupied beds in the room, as thoughtful as he always was. “How are you?”

  “I’ll be back with those discharge papers in about an hour, Mr. Gaines,” the nurse said before he nodded at us and left.

  “Heeeey, Eliott!” Camdon cried, then his eyes, fuzzy from the pain meds I was sure, zoomed over to me. “You’re much cuter when I haven’t had a bottle of wine first, Gavin the Daredevil. Are your eyes really purple? Wait, did I interrupt you two?”

  “Even high, you sound like a prosecutor,” Eliott commented in his driest tone.

  Camdon laughed like a hyena at that.

  “I’m happy to rescue you,” Eliott said. “But why didn’t you call James too?”

  “I don’t know,” Camdon replied, his eyes huge. “Should I have?”

  “James is your boyfriend,” Eliott replied patiently, then cut me a telling look.

  “Yeah, but you’re my most responsible friend. Well, who isn’t a snitch to my family,” he amended with an adorable, exaggerated scowl, making me snort. “So did I interrupt?”

  I shook my head and said, “Just a date. I think we can handle a game delay.”

  “Ohh, a sports metaphor. Now I really like you,” Camdon said.

  Hospitals were always warmer than I liked, so I took off my tight green hoodie, delighted when Eliott followed suit because I got to stare at him in the shirt he’d picked out.

  I’d thought he was sexy from the start, but there was something about the way he was wearing this shirt that made me just about drool. He wasn’t fussing with it or scratching at it like most people would’ve, which made me suspect he’d worn plenty of tight polyester blends before. He was still frustratingly vague on details about his earlier life, but I’d bet a thousand dollars he’d dressed like this back in the day when he went out to Local Beats.

  “Once you’re discharged, how about we take you home and spend the night at your place with you?” he suggested. If I hadn’t been about to suggest the same thing, I might have been annoyed by his unilateral offer. “I’d feel better knowing someone’s keeping an eye on you, and we can do it if you’re not going to call James. And
you have plenty of space.”

  Camdon’s fuzzy gaze went back to Eliott, and then his eyes bugged out. “Wow, look at what you’re wearing! I love that shirt.”

  “Isn’t it great?” I chimed in, running my fingers over his lower back.

  Instead of leaning into my touch, Eliott crossed his arms, his sensual mouth compressing into a tight, white-edged line angled down in displeasure. “Gavin picked it.”

  “Oh.” Camdon’s expression fell and he pouted hard for a minute.

  Confused, I looked back and forth between them. Why was Eliott so defensive and upset over a stupid shirt? Hoping to lead one of them into saying something else to help me understand, I volunteered, “I was going to take him to an arcade and kick his ass at DDR.”

  “Eliott? DDR?” Camdon asked incredulously. “That’s going in the group chat, E.”

  I egged him on, “It’s part of a bet we have going. He took me to the ballet and fishing, and I took him for a ride on my bike and then to Navy Pier with a plan for DDR after.”

  “Motorcycles, arcades and DDR, and a colorful shirt.” Camdon reached out sluggishly with his good arm and pawed at Eliott’s hip. “I’m so fucking happy, man.”

  But Eliott’s face closed off completely and he said flatly, “I told you, Gavin picked out the shirt. It’s a one-time thing. It’s just part of the bet. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  It wasn’t a normal reaction at all, and an unfamiliar, ugly uncertainty rose up in me like bile before I threw up. If Eliott had just laughed it off, I wouldn’t have worried; he’d said his fashion had changed over the years after all, and didn’t all of ours? But his quick, defensive answers hinted at something more significant, and I was hurt that I didn’t know what.

  Camdon only ratcheted up my concerns when he said mournfully, “But, I thought you were wearing colors again and I got so happy because I miss all your colors. Now I’m sad.”

  “You said your fashion changed over time,” I pushed out, not quite a question.

  “Changed?” Camdon laughed, struggling to sit up so he could wave his arms. “That fucking mega-douche Peter convinced him to wipe out all the colors. I’m annoyed you got him to finally dress fabulous again, but hey, you’re gorgeous and fucking him, so—”

  “That’s enough!” Eliott burst out.

  My heart was pounding now. This was the first true glimpse of Eliott’s temper and even though I wasn’t scared of what he’d do or anything like that, I didn’t like this at all.

  “What?” Camdon asked, looking kind of dumb with his mouth hanging open, even though he couldn’t actually be dumb if he was Eliott’s friend. “What’s wrong with being excited that you’re wearing colors and doing fun stuff? Please tell me you’re going to get your belly pierced again, that was the coolest thing. Wouldn’t work with me, too big of a happy trail, you know? And who has the fucking patience to shave or wax?”

  “I—belly piercing—” I got out, going hot and cold all over. My mind short-circuited and my cock twitched just at the idea, losing control of my focus and my feeling of dread momentarily, and practically begged, “Please tell me there are pictures of that.”

  Eliott gave me a hard look, jaw clenched. “Don’t count on it.”

  Camdon sighed. “You can be a snobby, perfect lawyer and still have a piercing and wear colors, Eliott,” he explained like Eliott was a toddler. “Peter was the shittiest kind of gay dude and you should have told us so we could have told you that at the time—”

  My eyes bored into Eliott’s white-lipped profile, all the lust over him with a piercing evaporating without a trace, the dread back twice as strong. “What’s he talking about?”

  “You don’t know about Peter? The bet and shirt aren’t about helping him heal?” Camdon fired off. “We tried so hard back in the day, but you know how stubborn he is.”

  Eliott’s chest was heaving now and there was sweat at his hairline, which he got rid of with an uncoordinated swipe of his wrist across his forehead. “This isn’t your business.”

  “We can talk about it later,” I managed to say, because I felt dread, but there was clearly also a tough story here and I wanted to be responsible and respectful of it.

  “I can’t,” Eliott growled in clear warning.

  But Camdon was a prosecutor and he was high on pain meds that removed a person’s filter from brain to mouth, so he pressed, “You’ve been dating like four months and you’re crazy about him, what do you mean you can’t? Honesty means everything to you, Eliott.”

  “I—I can’t,” Eliott choked out like the muted howl of a wounded animal.

  His pain hit me so hard it was nauseating, and immediately I reached for him, wanting to hold him and protect him and figure out who this guy was and eviscerate him.

  But Eliott lurched away from me, and then he ran.

  Ran.

  Just left me.

  I stood there, nausea roiling and the bile rising up again.

  I’d tried to comfort Eliott, even though I was upset that I had never once heard of this mega-douche who had hurt him. But he’d evaded my touch. He’d never done that, not even when he was sheepish or shy or upset. I’d thought we were both all in, slowly sharing everything. I definitely hadn’t thought he was keeping silent about important baggage, which was lying for all intents and purposes, as far as I was concerned. I knew nothing about this bad guyor what he’d done. All I knew was that Eliott had rejected my touch. Me.

  “Are you going to chase him?” Camdon asked me sharply.

  I snapped out of my own feelings, pivoted, and ran, because I faced my fears.

  I retraced the exact route we’d taken, but Eliott was nowhere to be found.

  Standing near the emergency entrance, my heart really raced, anger bubbling up to cover my humiliation. It was so tempting to just leave, but I didn’t want Camdon to be left in the lurch, and there was no way to know if Eliott had circled back to him already.

  I didn’t really want to, but I returned to Camdon’s room. Once I saw Eliott hadn’t circled back or something, I yelled at Camdon. “What were you thinking!”

  “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  “Why did you say that? Any of that?”

  His head flopped against the pillows. “You obviously don’t know what he was like back when we first met. He wasn’t that different personality-wise, but he had more fun and expressed himself. But I didn’t mean to say all that. I’m not very good at relationship shit.”

  All of the anger drained out of me as quickly as it had bubbled up. I could hold a petty grunge forever, but I had never been able to stay angry for very long. I didn’t forget what had gotten me in that state, but it always eased back into something manageable quickly.

  I sat at the end of Camdon’s bed, slumping forward to catch my head in my hands, sighing heavily. “I’ll stay with you and help you get home. I can stay if you want too.”

  “I can’t ask you to do that,” Camdon said, sounding really sorry. “I’ll call someone else.”

  I didn’t leave until he’d made other arrangements, and it was awkward when I left.

  My feet dragged as I walked out of the hospital and stood under the too-bright ER sign. In the past, I had either slept with strangers or casual friends, no one important enough to me so that sex could threaten to ruin the rest of our relationship. I hadn’t really researched the etiquette and rules of dating like I’d joked to Eliott earlier, but I wasn’t an idiot. My grandparents were basically role models for how sarcastic, honest people loved each other, and I had plenty of other relatives and friends who were or had been in good relationships.

  But I had never been at a crossroads like this with someone.

  The choices were obvious. One, I could show up at his place, call him, text him, give him the night to breathe or seethe and then try one of those things tomorrow. Two, I could wait for him to come to me when he was ready… if he was ever ready. Whatever happened with Peter—the name clanged in my brain like the vilest curse now—had dam
aged him.

  Maybe tonight reminded him and he would convince himself I wasn’t worth it.

  The thought made me furious, so I called him without giving myself time to think.

  It rang and then his recorded voice intoned, “This is Eliott Navarre. I’m unavailable at the moment. Please leave a detailed message and I’ll get back to you. Thank you.”

  “Eliott, call me back,” I said. “That was uncool and unfair and… Are you okay?”

  Hearing my voice crack made me tear up because I didn’t know what to fucking do.

  I hung up and swore loudly. What if I kept calling or tried something else and it only made things worse? I knew how to push people away, I’d done it a thousand times. But I’d never been on the other side, trying to outwit someone who was pushing me away.

  In the end, I called Barley, who lived twenty minutes from the hospital and was always up late, and he came to pick me up, then brought me back to his house and just let me crash.

  Chapter 27

  Gavin

  The next two weeks were hell for me.

  The morning after Eliott had left me at the hospital, I told Barley everything in an explosion of swears and emotions and wild theories about what Eliott’s bastard of an ex might have said or done to be the shiittiest kind of gay dude. He managed to listen for half an hour before he’d cut me off, grabbing me up in a big bear hug and offering me advice.

  “I know you want to badger him until he explains everything,” he’d rumbled. “And you do deserve those explanations, because you’re in a relationship and it’s something that’s between you now, an obstacle you didn’t even see. But some people can’t be rushed, and if someone hurt him, the last thing you want to do is lose your temper and go all scornful bitch on him. So reach out, let him know you’re here, but that you two really need to talk.”

  I’d groaned like I was dying, but he was right.

  My own insecurities did make me scornful and bitchy, a dumb defense mechanism against all the boy’s boys who’d beat me up and called me names when I was a kid, and all the men who’d fucked me but rolled their eyes at the idea of dating a mouthy pretty boy when I was grown. My choices back then had been to ridicule them until they left me alone or make them laugh, and neither had truly gotten me what I wanted or needed, or given them what they deserved. If I went to Eliott in this state, I could lose my mind and lose him.