by Susan Laine
Staring at Adam, Evan actually felt a bit disappointed Adam and his hotness weren’t on the menu. The guyliner by itself wasn’t a clue as to anyone’s orientation these days, and neither was dyed hair. Somehow they’d become the norm rather than the exception.
“Hi.” Evan heard the bafflement in his own voice.
“Hey.” Adam nodded a few times, radiating anxiety as he fidgeted. Then he gestured to the booth, sliding to a seat on his side. “We should sit down. I ordered you a Coke. Is that okay? No ice for you, just the way you like it.”
Apprehension gnawing at his self-confidence, Evan nonetheless did as suggested and sat down opposite Adam. “Don’t mean to be rude or anything, but… why are you here? Is he late and you’re filling in or something?”
Adam licked his lips and rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. He grimaced too. Evan had never seen him so rattled.
Evan began to suspect something was up. A horrible thought occurred to him. “Let me guess. He’s not coming, is he? He stood me up, told you about it, and you’re here so I won’t feel so bad?”
Adam shook his head, but he didn’t seem to be refuting that conclusion. Instead, he only got more nervous, blowing out a long breath and wiping a hand across his sweaty forehead. Yet no words came out to explain, deny, or speak his mind.
Evan sighed and leaned against the backrest. “It’s okay, Adam. You can just admit it. I’ve been stood up. Shit happens.” He offered his antsy companion a kind smile. “Adam, I’m fine. I’m glad you’re here. If I’d had to wait for an hour for some dickhead to come, I’d have looked like an idiot and most likely gotten drunk as a skunk. You saved me from public embarrassment, a trip under the table, wasted, and a humiliating call to my folks to come and pick me up.”
Adam chuckled at the joke. Neither Evan nor Adam drank, nor did either have a fake ID that would allow them to. But Adam’s tone was off, a forced, choked sound Evan couldn’t understand. He had assumed they’d made it past this awkwardness and gone back to being best friends. What had changed?
“Listen, just because this one guy didn’t work, that doesn’t mean someone else won’t,” Evan said, trying to coax his best friend out of his bewildering funk and to make light of the lousy situation. “Don’t hook me up with him again. But you know a lot of people, so I’m sure you—”
“Stop.” Adam blinked and bit off his words, but he was so tense and stiff that Evan suspected he’d splinter from the touch of a breeze alone. “I don’t want to….” This time Evan waited for Adam to finish his sentence. Clearly he had a lot on his mind.
Adam rested his hands on the table, but they trembled. To soothe him, Evan tried to take his hand. But Adam yanked his arms back like the table was on fire. Evan couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt, rejected, and offended.
“Sorry. I’m sorry.” Adam glanced around the room but his gaze, glossy and anxious, seemed to be aimed inward. Finally he closed his eyes, let out a deep breath, and deflated. “No one was coming. I mean… no one else. Just… me. I… I’m your date.”
From the inside of his leather jacket, as if by magic, Adam produced a single red rose. A fresh, sweet fragrance wafted into the air, and a few dew drops of water still clung to the insides of the petals. As a gesture it was lovely—and baffling.
His mind frozen, Evan could only stare.
Chapter 5
EVAN WAS sure he’d misheard. “What?”
Adam stuttered like a child who hadn’t yet learned how to speak properly. He laid the rose on the table where it languished like an abandoned gift. Evan didn’t even dare look at it, let alone touch it.
“Well, I… I didn’t want you to…. That is, I thought it’d be better if…. I mean, I couldn’t find anyone….” Finally he fell silent, slumping dejectedly, his gaze focused on the scratched wooden surface of the table as if it were the most intriguing thing in the world.
Evan did his best to follow Adam’s train of thought.
“You didn’t want me to—what? Go out on a date with your friend—or with any guy, period? You couldn’t find a single gay guy among your circle of friends, or… you didn’t want me to hook up with anyone?” Evan couldn’t believe all the possibilities running through his head. “Are you… jealous?”
Adam flinched like he’d been hit. Oh my God, I’m right, Evan thought in shock. Adam was jealous of Evan going out on a date with a guy. Any guy. Anyone who wasn’t Adam.
No, that made zero sense. Adam wasn’t gay. Was he just being a possessive best friend? Evan would never have thought that possible. Adam was cool about everything. He was a great guy in that respect. The highest caliber of friends. He had always been there for Evan, and Evan trusted Adam implicitly.
No, there had to be some other explanation. Evan wracked his brains trying to figure out the puzzle.
Unfortunately, the only answer that came to Evan’s mind would make Adam the villain of the tale. Surely he couldn’t be that? Adam would not be so cruel. Not to anyone, and certainly not to his best friend.
“Was this just a joke to you?” Evan accused. He didn’t raise his voice or make a public scene because he could barely push the words out of his mouth. “Are you making fun of me? Did you arrange this so you could have a laugh at my expense? The poor pathetic little fag in need of getting laid.”
Adam’s eyes widened, and his jaw dropped. The shock he displayed couldn’t be faked, could it? Evan didn’t know anymore. Everything was a complicated mess.
“You never did accept or approve of me being gay, did you?” Evan went on, pain and sorrow twisting his insides into a knot. “You told me you understood, but was that a lie? And when I asked you to find me a date, you did this, making me look like an idiot.”
Adam shook his head furiously then. “No. No. No. No.”
But Evan was too far gone, drowned under his fears and doubts, unable to resurface.
Instead of listening to more lies, Evan stood quickly. For a second he considered throwing the Coke in Adam’s face, but that kind of stupid melodrama wasn’t in his character.
“See? This is exactly why I didn’t tell you about my books or about me being bi or gay or whatever. I knew you’d judge me. Well, fuck you. Guess we aren’t friends anymore.”
With that exit line, Evan rushed out of the restaurant. A sea of faces swam around him, but he couldn’t make them out. Only once he got outside did he realize his vision was hazy because he was crying his eyes out. Wiping the hot droplets from his cheeks, Evan ran all the way home.
Using the back door so his parents wouldn’t hear and wake up to question him, he snuck back into his room, locked himself in his bathroom, and finally let the pain out. He fought to quench the stupid sobs and welling of tears because he was no freaking crybaby, but it wasn’t easy. Losing a best friend sucked.
EVAN SLEPT poorly. He kept waking up, startling himself awake from nightmares starring Adam and feeling like the walls were closing in on him. The fact that it was a Saturday and not a school day did little to soothe his bruised ego and hurt feelings.
Finally he dragged his lazy ass out of bed and into the bathroom. He took a hot shower in the faint hope of finding some much-needed energy to get the day going. Once clean, dry, and dressed, Evan still wanted nothing but to climb back under the covers and forget the world existed.
But his stomach rumbled to remind him he hadn’t eaten dinner, and he decided to go down and get some breakfast. Before he could leave his bedroom, though, he saw an unanswered text on his cell phone as he picked it up from the bedside table. Evan glanced in the direction of Adam’s house, but Adam’s room was dark.
Warily, Evan checked the text message. It was only one word: Help.
And the text had come from Adam, no more than half an hour ago, when Evan’s phone had still been on silent.
Suddenly so afraid he could barely breathe, Evan rushed to the window, yanked open the shutters, climbed onto the windowsill, hopped over the railing onto Adam’s balcony, and stormed in past th
e french doors, which had been left ajar.
“Adam? Adam, where are you?” Evan called, his voice cracking as his mind filled with terrible images of what might have happened to his best friend. The bed was empty, the bedspread thrown back to reveal tumbled sheets. No movement showed in the shadowy corners of the room.
“Here” came a soft voice from behind the closed bathroom door.
Evan hurried to the door, pushed it open, and stepped inside. The light was on, glaring in contrast with the early-morning gloom in the bedroom. No one sat in the bathtub, and no one stood in front of the sink. Evan searched the room with his gaze.
Adam sat huddled in the corner next to the toilet, hugging his knees. He didn’t look up as Evan stepped closer and knelt in front of him. Cautiously, Evan touched Adam’s knee, and finally Adam jerked and faced Evan, blinking hard. His cheeks wore the dry striations of past tears while his eyes glistened with a fresh batch.
Evan dropped down to sit opposite, letting his leg brush against Adam’s for comfort.
“Got your text. You okay?” Evan felt stupid asking. Neither of them was okay after yesterday’s unpleasantness.
Adam shook his head. A dark scent of bergamot wafted from his hair, most likely from his shampoo since he had no mousse or spray to keep his hair in check. Evan liked the sensuality of the odor; it seemed to match Adam’s strong character. Only at the moment, Adam didn’t appear particularly powerful.
“No. No, Evan, I’m not okay. Are you?” Adam’s belligerent tone as he demanded an answer contradicted the miserable state of mind evident in his sad features.
Evan frowned, bristling. “Not really, no. Lost my best friend yesterday.” When Adam flinched like he’d been struck, Evan sighed and regretted his words. “I’m sorry. This hasn’t been easy. Didn’t sleep much last night.”
“I didn’t sleep at all,” Adam whispered, his eyelids closing slowly. The dark circles around his blue eyes were a testament either to a lack of sleep or to inadequate removal of the guyliner he’d worn last night. It was hard to tell.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” Evan said, torn between his lingering need to comfort the Adam who had been his best friend forever and his anger at the other Adam who had treated him so cruelly last night. “Why couldn’t you sleep?”
Adam let out a chuckle that had no joy in it, only cold bitterness. “Because I tried to do something nice and honest, and someone I trusted threw it back in my face.”
Hurt twisted Evan’s gut, and he fisted his hands to stop himself from lashing out. “No offense, but I’m the victim here.”
“Victim?” Adam glared at him, rage and pain mingling in his gaze. “Is it really so awful to think of you and me together? What am I—some kind of horrible ogre and you’re—”
“If you say innocent damsel—or dude—in distress, I’m gonna punch you in the face.” A moment of silence followed Evan’s declaration. Finally, when Adam merely kept glaring at him, Evan went on, “I don’t understand what’s going on. Why did you have to insult me like that last night? Like who I am is a joke to you.”
“A joke?” Adam repeated him again, his expression twisting with fury. “That’s rich. When it seems that’s all I am to you.” Evan’s jaw dropped in shock, but Adam beat him to the punch. “You didn’t even consider the possibility I was being serious with you last night. That I really like you that way and wanted to go out on a date with you. You dismissed me like… like all I do is lie to you or like I mean nothing to you.”
Evan scrambled to keep up. But he couldn’t wrap his brain around Adam’s accusation.
“You didn’t give a single thought to the possibility that I have feelings for you,” Adam said, and his voice cracked. He was breathing hard, like he’d run a mile a minute, and his eyes watered. “I’ve never felt like this. Never been attracted to a guy before.”
Oh shit, this is getting serious. Evan was speechless. He couldn’t understand what was happening. This can’t be real, his brain argued, since his knowledge of Adam’s history with girls was irrefutable. Or it could be the most real thing you’ve ever experienced, his heart replied, warning him not to dismiss Adam so carelessly again.
Adam deflated when Evan said nothing. His chuckle floated in the air, breathy and short and rueful. “I always believed you and I weren’t friends just because of proximity. That we weren’t just hanging out together ’cause our folks have houses next door to each other. But lately I’m so scared. I don’t know what to do with all these… feelings I have for you. That’s why I sent the text, to elicit some sympathy from you, to at least get you to come and see and hear me out.”
Evan rubbed a hand across his forehead, and the feverish sensation damn near burned his fingers. “Adam, I honestly don’t know…. I don’t get it. You’re not gay.”
“Don’t you think I fucking know that?” Adam retorted vehemently, but then sobbed as if his heart were breaking. “I’m afraid of how I feel about you. How much I feel. And the first time I try to show you… you accused me of… of some pretty shitty stuff when it wasn’t like that at all. It wasn’t!”
“Okay. Okay.” Evan used a soothing voice to calm Adam—or maybe to calm himself; he honestly couldn’t tell anymore. “Okay.” He took a breath and let it out slowly, though he wasn’t confident of the effect. “Why… what brought this on? I mean… you’ve never been into dudes before.”
Adam shrugged, wiping tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. “No clue. I just… I can’t help it. I don’t know what more to do to assure you how I feel and what I want. Which is you. I want you.”
Evan struggled to breathe. He couldn’t hear much because the beating of his heart grew as loud as drums in his ears. “Adam, sweetie….” He couldn’t believe he’d just used that endearment. “You’re not really feeling… uh, that way about me. You think you’re losing a friend, so you get all possessive and circle the wagons around us. Kind of an old idiom, I know, but it fits. But, sweetie… you aren’t going to lose me. I’ll stay your best friend till I’m old and gray, if you want me to. You won’t lose me, not if you don’t want to.”
Adam frowned, but at least he was listening. “What if…. Maybe I’m like that thing you said about being attracted to a person, not a sex. You know, pansexual.”
Evan chuckled despite himself and the weird mood. “You checked that out, did you?”
Adam actually blushed and grinned at that. “Yeah. I’ve done a lot of shit lately that I’ve never done before. Or even thought about doing before.” His face took on a defiant expression. “Like watching… gay porn.”
Evan stuttered. “Wh-what?”
“Yeah.” Adam dropped his head and pursed his lips, looking pensive. “You were right. It’s not that bad. And I wasn’t always sure what… you know, turned me on.” Then he raised his gaze back to Evan’s face with newfound determination. “But I do know one thing. You turn me on.”
Evan’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until his vision grew blurry and he felt like he was sweating inside and out. “You…. I…. What…?” Just like Adam earlier, Evan lacked the right words and the necessary brain power to finish the sentence.
Adam frowned again, but this time the emotion appeared to stem from confusion more than any grudge. “It was those damn books of yours.”
Evan tensed. “Y-you said you liked them….”
Adam started to laugh, the sound echoing around them, bouncing wildly like the laughter of a madman. “I did. Too much, if you get my drift. I loved them. And… when I went out with Shelley, all I could think about were those sex scenes you’d written. Sex between two guys. No girls anywhere.”
“Oh. Oh. O-okay,” Evan mumbled, his brain mostly mush.
“And then….” Adam locked gazes with Evan, his expression steadfast, sincere, somehow yearning, and absolutely breathtaking. “Soon all I saw in my head was you and me acting out those scenes. And it felt better than anything I’ve ever done with any girl or imagined doing with
a girl. Way better.”
Evan could do nothing but stare, reeling from Adam’s revelations.
“Then you went out with… Tawny,” Adam said, and frustration and anger returned to his tone as he practically spat out the name. “I couldn’t stop picturing you and her together. Then I kept seeing you together with some guy. And I got so mad and jealous and envious, and I realized that if and when you hooked up with some dude, any dude really, I’d lose you.” Evan shook his head in a faint effort to deny Adam’s claims, but Adam waved him silent. “I don’t wanna miss your firsts. I want them to happen with me.”
“Adam….” Evan’s whisper floated between them, choked and dangerous and somehow magnetic, pulling them closer together.
Then Adam confessed in a hushed voice, “I think… I think I’m in love with you.”
Evan had never been on the verge of passing out—until now.
Chapter 6
EVAN HAD no arguments. His mind had been drained dry of rebuttals. Could his best friend be serious? He certainly sounded earnest.
Then the realization of the true depth and breadth of his hypocrisy slammed into Evan.
How could he claim he was gay and be allowed to take time to figure things out if he didn’t allow Adam the same right to come to terms with his own sexuality? Who was Evan to say Adam’s feelings weren’t real?
But… his supposed feelings for Evan could be nothing more than a byproduct of him discovering a literary genre he was into. When he’d started writing gay romances, Evan had learned quickly that the most popular authors were women who wrote for women who loved reading about two or more men together, developing a relationship that might or might not include sex. And a lot of these female readers, if not most, weren’t gay.
Perhaps Adam liked reading about two guys together—but wasn’t in fact gay.
