The Way Back: A Way Home Novella

by May Archer

  "You saw him go up?"

  "Nah, man. I saw him in the room." D grinned. "Door was wide open. And all the bedding and pictures are gone. He's filming himself some low-budget porn."

  Logan grimaced. "Terrific."

  Only the idea now gripping him - that he had to see Peter, had to apologize - could possibly convince him to endure that bullshit. Maybe he could stand in the hall and keep his eyes closed.

  He pushed himself off the stool. "Good to see you, man," he told D'Andre. And it wasn't a lie. It had been good - or educational, anyway - to be confronted with evidence of who he used to be, just in case he was ever tempted to romanticize his past.

  D nodded. "You stay cool, Ollie."

  Logan snorted. He'd never really been cool, but he'd played a hell of a good game.

  He walked out into the hall toward the stairs...

  And nearly tripped over a guy coming out of the bathroom.

  "Jesus Christ on a popsicle stick," the man said, shoving Logan against the far wall with a forearm to Logan's chest. "I am sick and tired of being attacked in my own home."

  The guy was shorter than Logan by a few inches. Lean, but clearly strong. His jaw was strong and perfectly clean-shaven. His hair was impeccably groomed. And he smelled like Fierce by Abercrombie and Fitch, which was pretty much the best cologne Logan had ever smelled. But it was his eyes that made Logan stop in his assessment. They were wide, and angry... and familiar.

  "Peter?"

  Chapter Three

  "You are fucking kidding me," Peter whispered, staring up into green eyes so beautiful and so damn familiar, he sometimes dreamed about them.

  And for a second, he almost wondered if he was dreaming - some kind of traumatic high school hallucination brought on by Cupid's assault and the Usher tune currently thumping from the speakers. But while the man in front of him was tall, broad, and tanned just like the Logan of his dreams, this vision was different. The soft, coal-black curls Peter used to love to run his fingers through were missing, chopped into a short undercut. And even in his wildest fantasies, Peter never could have conjured a Logan who wore skinny jeans and blazer, or whose eyes crinkled at the corners when he squinted.

  This Logan was older. Better looking.

  And as unattainable as he ever was.

  Didn't it figure? The second Peter had convinced himself he could maybe handle his shit; the guy appeared like some demon to tempt him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

  When Logan winced, Peter replayed his words mentally. Maybe he'd sounded just a tiny bit more aggressive than necessary.

  "Sorry," he said, removing his forearm from Logan's chest and taking a giant step back until he nearly collided with the bathroom door again. He was vaguely aware that he'd dropped his coat on the floor at some point when he'd thought Logan was another Cupid out to attack him. He couldn't bring himself to care. "Sorry. I mean... Uh. Hey. I'm shocked to see you. I thought you were down in, like... Charlotte or somewhere."

  "Raleigh," Logan corrected. He cleared his throat. "My parents are in Charlotte, but I'm, uh... in Raleigh."

  Peter nodded, as though he didn't already know this, as though he hadn't Facebook-stalked Logan through Jared for a few years until he'd forced himself to stop.

  "Cool. That's... cool." Peter gave him a brittle smile that hopefully hid the fact that his stupid heart was racing a mile a minute and sadly, pathetically, not solely on account of the shock. "Nice to see you." He made a fluttering motion with his right hand, in the general vicinity of the living room, where Jared might be. "I've gotta go."

  But as he took a step, Logan moved to block him, laying one gentle hand on his wrist.

  "Wait. Peter."

  Peter sucked in a breath. This was a lot like a dream - Logan's hand burning through his sweater, Logan's eyes looking down on him, all wide and serious.

  "Your coat," Logan said, bending down to retrieve the sad garment.

  Right. Yep. His coat.

  The mortification seemed to come in waves tonight.

  "Thanks," he said, grabbing the material Logan held out to him. "I'm gonna go find Jared."

  "He's upstairs in your parents' old room," Logan blurted. His face turned red. "Or so I heard."

  "What is he..." Peter began, then cut himself off. Never mind. On second thought, he could well imagine what Jared was doing up in their parents' room.

  "Yeah." Logan winced. "Um. Not alone? Jackie and Tara..."

  Peter held up a hand. "Oh, I get it. No need to elaborate." He sighed, really glad that his parents were safely in Florida and wishing that he was as lucky. "Jared."

  "Yeah." Logan ran his free hand through his short hair, seeming at a loss for words.

  Someone in the living room began chanting, "Drink, drink, drink!" Logan withdrew his hand from Peter's arm, and Peter sucked in a breath through his nose.

  "He's got to deal with his," Peter muttered. "Before they light the fucking place on fire."

  He half expected Logan to argue with him, to defend his friends and tease Peter about being uptight the way he used to, but Logan just nodded. "I'll, um, go up with you." He nodded toward the stairs.

  Peter blinked. That was... completely unexpected, but would actually be really helpful. Jared never listened to him, but he'd always listened to Logan. "Okay."

  Logan swept out an arm for Peter to lead the way, which was oddly chivalrous, but he didn't step back when Peter brushed past him. Peter couldn't deny the warm flush crawling up his chest... nor the way he'd inspected Logan's hand as he squeezed by.

  There was no ring.

  Which doesn't matter one fucking iota, you idiot, since that doesn't mean he's out and proud. There were really no limits on his ability to self-sabotage, it seemed.

  He cast around for a neutral topic, since staying silent only gave his imagination more room to run. "So, North Carolina."

  "What?" Logan half-yelled.

  Peter turned around, halfway up the stairs.

  "Sorry." Logan scowled. "I can barely hear you. It's like a fucking club in here."

  Peter swallowed. He was a stair above Logan, which meant they were almost the same height for once, and those lovely green eyes were right there in front of him. He couldn't help the way his eyes darted down to Logan's full lips for just a single second, and he prayed Logan didn't notice.

  "Uh. North Carolina, I said. You like it down there?" Peter dug his fingers into the polished wood railing. He didn't really want to hear Logan wax rhapsodic about his lovely life, or the girls he was dating... didn't want to know how much happier he'd become since the night he'd broken Peter's heart.

  But Logan's reply, when it came, wasn't particularly enthusiastic. "It's okay," he said with a shrug. "As good a place to live as anywhere. Cheaper than here."

  Peter rolled his eyes. "Tell me about it." Rent prices were a good, safe topic.

  "You have your own place?" Logan asked.

  Ah. Okay, maybe not so safe. "I do. I did. Or... I mean, I do." He cleared his throat. Pretend this is Drew and you're giving him a rundown. Facts. Competence. "I own a condo - a studio in the Fenway. I used to share it with my boyfriend, but he moved out last month."

  Logan blinked. "Oh."

  There was a whole world of possible interpretations to that single syllable, and Peter refused to let himself contemplate any of them. "I could have gotten a bigger place in the suburbs," he continued. "But then... I'd be in the suburbs."

  He gave Logan a half-smile, half-shrug. Logan's answering grin made his heart beat faster.

  "Hey. You're talking to a guy who lives in a suburban townhouse," Logan teased. "I bet your whole apartment fits in one of my master bedroom closets. The small one."

  Peter lifted one eyebrow. "Uh huh. And when you step out your front door..."

  "I get in my car and go wherever I need to go." Logan folded his arms over his chest.

  "Like, PTA meetings?" Peter turned around and resumed walking. "Or Costco?"

  "Like, craft
beer joints," Logan said defensively. "And... well, yeah, Costco. Sometimes."

  Peter tossed a grin over his shoulder. He'd loved teasing Logan back in the day. The guy wasn't just hot as sin, he was smart and funny, too. "Killing the environment. Meanwhile, some of us walk everywhere."

  "I'd like to see you bring home a giant thing of paper goods home walking."

  "How many paper goods do you need?"

  "Well..." Logan hesitated, and Peter looked over his shoulder again.

  Damn. He'd wandered right into this. The part where Logan told him all about his girlfriend or fiancé, his ten kids and his golden retriever.

  "Actually, not that many, since I live alone now."

  "Oh." Peter was sure there were a wealth of interpretations for that syllable too, but he wasn't really sure where to go from there. When Peter had known him, Logan had been the kind of person who needed... someone. A girl, a friend, a team... something to be a part of, some way to define himself. Apparently, he'd grown.

  Duh. Peter had done everything but plastic surgery to make himself different from the guy he had been back then. He wasn't sure why the Logan in his mind had been frozen in time, complete with all his faults and frailties, or why it was so strange to think that Logan might have outgrown that.

  Oh, you know why. Because that Logan broke your heart, so just imagine what this Logan could do to you.

  "The upside to living alone," Logan remarked as they reached the landing. "Is that I get to eat the Costco-sized tub of ice cream all by myself."

  Peter turned to face him, narrowing his eyes. "Bullshit."

  "Huh?"

  "Bullshit do you eat the Costco-sized ice-cream...." He looked up and down Logan's lean body. "Or any sized ice cream on a regular basis."

  Logan's olive cheeks turned a little pinker, and he laughed nervously. "I also work out. A lot." He met Peter's eyes. "Another side effect of living alone."

  Peter wasn't sure how to respond to that, but he was saved from having to reply at all when a high-pitched, protracted moan came from his parents' bedroom on the other end of the hall.

  He made a face - some cross between disgust and panic - and Logan burst into laughter.

  "It's not funny!" Peter elbowed him, trying to control his own grin.

  "It kind of is."

  "I mean this, tonight, maybe. But..." He shook his head. "Jared got fired from his job at the mall for being too flirtatious. Shelly - that's his ex-fiancé - dumped him because she found him in bed with her sister Heather. And then Heather sued him for posting a sex tape of her online without her permission. He's determined to be the same person he was in high school. I don't get it."

  Logan pursed his lips and darted a look at Peter. "Some people have fond memories of high school, I guess."

  "Yeah, I guess. You and Jared, maybe." He brushed an imaginary fleck of lint off his sleeve. "Some of us were pretty pleased to get out."

  "Not all of my memories are fond," Logan said seriously. "I did some stuff I regret a lot."

  Peter closed his eyes. Like that one summer a few years back, when they'd hooked up? Figured.

  "Well, the good news is that we can move on, right? Grow up?" Not that Jared ever had.

  "Sometimes." Logan hesitated. "Sometimes people don't know how. Maybe that's where your brother is."

  "It's not rocket science--"

  "No, but it requires wanting to let go of it." Logan stepped closer. "Some people don't wanna let go."

  "Why?" Peter looked up at Logan, at those impossibly green eyes. "Why wouldn't you want to move on to bigger and better?"

  "Because maybe you think there's nothing bigger and better waiting for you?" He hesitated again, glancing down at the ground. "You knew there were things out there for you." He smiled. "I remember the way we used to talk, a few years ago. You had a color-coded five-point plan for the future. You had sticky notes with ideas for the future. All the things you were going to do, all the places you wanted to visit. High school was holding you back. But... it wasn't like that for Jared."

  Peter frowned. He hadn't really considered it that way before.

  "Your brother was a football star. Popular with guys and girls alike. He wasn't into academics, but that didn't matter because he thought he was going to play college ball, right? But then, he didn't get picked. And I think maybe he started to wonder... if his best chance at happiness was behind him."

  "But that's not true," Peter said slowly. "There's always another chance. It sucks, sometimes, when things fall through, but..."

  Logan shook his head. "But it doesn't work that way for everything. Sometimes we only get one shot, and we blow it. Sometimes we see something we really, really want and we're not good enough - not prepared enough, not brave enough - to take it. Jared's never going to be a star football player again, and I..."

  Logan put his hand on Peter's waist lightly - so, so lightly - but Peter could feel every cell of his body light up under the faint pressure.

  So stupid. So reckless.

  Logan was right. There were some chances that couldn't come around again. Or things that broke you thoroughly enough the first time that you didn't want to risk them again.

  Either way.

  "Peter, I wanted to say..." Logan began, but Peter stepped back.

  "Are you going to get him, or am I?" he interrupted, holding his coat in front of him like a shield. As if on cue, the moaning grew louder.

  "You want me to get him?"

  Peter rolled his eyes. "Yeah, why not? You'd probably enjoy the view more than I would." Especially given that his brother was the only guy in there.

  "You'd be surprised," Logan said sourly. He looked at the door at the end of the hall, which was most of the way open, then back at Peter. He drew his spine up straight. "Fine. I'll get him. But then you owe me."

  "Owe you?" Peter scowled. "Owe you what?"

  "A talk. Five minutes."

  "What? We've been talking."

  Logan cocked his head to one side.

  "Oh, fine, fine," Peter agreed, waving a hand. "Five minutes."

  Logan nodded and set off down the hall.

  Peter watched as he glanced inside, then quickly glanced away, actually craning his neck back to stare at the ceiling as he knocked loudly on the door. "Jared? I need to talk to you."

  "Oh, fuck. Busy, man!" Jared yelled back.

  Peter snickered, and Logan turned to glare at him. Peter bit his lip and shrugged.

  "Now, Jare," Logan said. "They're destroying shit downstairs. Like..." He looked back at Peter and shook his head like he couldn't think of something that might get Jared appropriately concerned.

  "Football trophies," Peter whispered, and Logan nodded.

  "I think they're throwing around your football trophies, man," Logan said.

  "What? Nah. My mom packed all those up!"

  Jared didn't sound sure. And Peter couldn't help but roll his eyes at the idea of his mother having to pack her grown son's trophies in preparation for the move.

  "I dunno, man. Looked like trophies to me. You might wanna come check it out."

  Two distinctly feminine squeals of outrage - and really, Peter couldn't blame them for being outraged if Jared was ditching them to go check on some decade-old memorabilia - emerged from the room, and Peter barely had time to move aside as two women came out, yanking their dresses into place and carrying their shoes.

  "You are ridiculous, Jared Kelley!" a blonde in a purple dress shouted as they passed Peter in the hall.

  "Come on, Tara," the brunette consoled her. "Let's get a drink. Plenty of guys downstairs."

  Jared came out next, zipping up his jeans and clapping Logan on the shoulder. "Thanks for the heads-up, bud."

  Jared looked nearly the same as he had in high school - barrel-chested, thick-shouldered, dressed in a polo that was way too tight (and not in a good way). But atop his head, his hair was thinning, and his blue eyes seemed just a little bit more tired - and a trifle more blood-shot - than the last
time Peter had seen him.

  "Yeah. No problem," Logan agreed.

  Jared's eyes lit up as he spied his brother. "Petey! You came!"

  "Yeah," he said, as Jared caught him up in a hug. "Wanted to make sure no one lit the house on fire."

  Jared smiled indulgently as he set Peter on his feet. "Nah. You know the old crew! These guys are harmless. "

  They weren't really. Not harmless to others, and definitely not to themselves. But this was an old argument, and Peter knew he'd never win. Not when he was tattling on the Lost Boys to Peter Pan himself. "I think some of them might have had a little too much to drink tonight, though, you know, Jare? They're not thinking."

  "Yeah. I get it. I'll handle it," Jared promised. "You just have fun, okay?"

  Peter wasn't sure whether Jared handling it would settle things down or amp them up further, but he felt a sudden rush of affection for his brother anyway. Peter had never been an athlete, had never been one of the "cool" kids who wanted to drink and party, had never for even a second been interested in girls. And yet, Jared had never teased Peter, never excluded him, never let his friends get truly aggressive or bully Peter.

  And maybe Logan was right. Maybe Jared wasn't immature so much as... scared. Scared of the unknown. Scared of what the future held. Scared that his best chance at happiness was behind him.

  Peter could understand that.

  As Jared loped down the stairs, Peter turned and darted into his own old bedroom. He didn't wait to see if Logan followed.

  Chapter Four

  Logan trailed Peter half a second later, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. The room was dark, but for the soft yellow glow of the streetlight shining in the front window, and practically empty except for a twin bed shoved against the far wall and a large wooden desk that ran beneath the front window. Peter stood by the desk, staring out at the street.

  "Seems strange to be in here without the Barack Obama posters staring down at me," Logan said softly, and Peter turned, almost like he was startled.

  Had he not expected Logan to follow him? Or was he worried that Logan was here to a repeat of what had happened the last time they were alone together in this room? Not that Logan would be a hundred percent against that idea, himself. Peter was hotter than ever, and neither of them was in a relationship because some idiot had broken things off with him... some idiot other than Logan himself.