by Riley Hart
We relax on the bed together, continuing to kiss and fondle.
I enjoy his body and he enjoys mine.
I don’t ever want it to end. Can’t I have this forever?
But in the back of my mind, I know better.
***
“Fuck.”
I wake to a throbbing headache.
Why the fuck did I drink all those tequila shots?
I force my eyes open. I’m gonna need to grab some ibuprofen, but I notice Travis has his arm around me.
I freeze. This hasn’t happened since that first morning when I woke up to the stranger in my bed. The hottie across the way who I’d watch run on his treadmill or do sit-ups and push-ups in his living room occasionally.
Only now we’re in his bed. Together.
My head hurts like a motherfucker, but I like the feeling of his arm around me. In a way that I know I shouldn’t.
I’ve come down from the high of our experience last night, which was so much more than fucking. For me, at least.
But I know it wasn’t that way for him. He didn’t care about the guy I was dancing with. I could have gone home with him, and Travis would have been high-fiving me this morning.
He stirs. I close my eyes and pretend to be asleep. I wait for him to pull his arm off me, but he doesn’t, and I’m glad.
Does it mean something?
It has to, doesn’t it?
But I realize once again I’m the one who’s kidding myself.
“Morning, sexy,” he whispers into my ear before offering a gentle kiss.
His words sound so good again, but they remind me this can’t last.
That I can’t go on like this. It doesn’t matter to him, but it matters to me, and if we keep on, I’m going to get hurt. So fucking much.
I wish I could say it was just about the sex. I wish I could go back to thinking he was some cocky prick.
But it’s too late for me, and I know what I must do.
26
Travis
It’s almost as if I’m outside of my body, watching myself, seeing myself lie here with Gary, holding him, whispering in his ear…and wondering what in the fuck I’m doing.
But still, I don’t let go. I nuzzle his neck, feel his stubble on my face, and let my hand run down his body to wrap around his cock. “You’re fucking good with this thing. Maybe I should let you top me a little more often. I’ll still want your ass, but you know how to work that dick too.”
A tremble rocks through him, vibrating into me.
“I love the effect I have on you,” I tell him. “I never would have thought this game would have turned out to be so fun.” That I would like spending time with him so much. That his accomplishments would feel like my accomplishments. That it would make my chest ache and piss me off so damn much when he doesn’t see how incredible he is.
“On that note. I need to go to the restroom.” Gary slips out of bed, and I let him, watch his tight ass move as he walks away.
“Awww, come on, baby. Things were just getting good!” I tease him, but he doesn’t come back with a sarcastic comment, or hell, even acknowledge what I said at all.
That sends a little prickle of nerves through me, though I don’t know what in the hell I would have to be nervous about.
Gary closes the door behind him. I wait for him, my mind drifting back to last night. I still can’t believe how proud of him I was. What it felt like to watch him, a mixture of satisfaction and possessiveness making a cocktail inside of me I’d never experienced before. And if I’m being honest, one I’m not too keen on feeling again.
It takes Gary a couple of minutes in the bathroom. When he comes out, he picks up his underwear and pulls them on, making me frown. “What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing.” He starts walking around the room. “Where the hell are my pants?”
“I think I took them off you in the hallway. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you?” He never gets dressed and takes off like this anymore unless he has to be at work, has an appointment or something like that.
“I need to talk to you, and I need to do it with my clothes on. Would you put your clothes on too? That would help.”
The hairs on my arms start to rise, and I sit up, a strange feeling creeping through my veins. “No, I won’t. Get your ass over here and tell me what’s going on.”
“That’s not going to work.” He shakes his head, finds his shirt, and pulls it on. “Being all sexy and bossy just makes it worse.”
“Makes what worse?” A throb begins in my temples and spreads across my forehead. “Please, come here. Tell me what in the hell is going on.”
Gary sighs, then walks toward me in his T-shirt and briefs. He reminds me of Tom Cruise in that movie from the eighties, but I’m not sure if now is the time to bring it up.
He stops next to the bed, in front of me and says, “I can’t do this anymore.”
It’s as though my insides crystallize, freeze, and then break apart. “Do what? What can’t you do?” Is he going to drop our act right as I’m about to get what I want? No…that’s not Gary. He wouldn’t do something like that.
“This. Us.” He points back and forth between the two of us. “The sex. It’s just…it’s not working for me anymore.”
Now it’s heat taking me over, blazing anger scorching through me. Why would he do this? Why would he call this off at the last minute? “It sure as fuck worked for you last night when you had your dick in my ass.”
I shove off the bed and head for my dresser. He had the right idea about clothes. After grabbing a pair of boxer briefs, I pull them on. “I can’t believe you’re pulling this shit on me at the last minute. What the fuck, man? We’re almost there, almost fucking there. Is it all the work with Raymond and Steven? Do you feel like I’m not putting in as much effort? Whatever you need, I’ll do it. I’ll turn up the act, seek your dickhead ex out more if I need to.”
“No. Jesus, no.” He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “That’s not what I mean. And I won’t stop pretending to be your boyfriend. We can keep that up as long as you need to. I still want to be your friend, Travis.…It’s the sex. I just…I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to continue sleeping together, that’s all.”
That should make me feel better, but for some reason, it doesn’t. My anger is still a ticking time bomb waiting to detonate. Why would he tell me this now? What changed? “Why? Come on, Gare. You’re not that guy. You got my ass, and now you’re done? That’s not you. What changed?”
“Nothing. It’s not a good idea. I’m allowed to change my mind. Where the fuck are my pants?” he says again as though I didn’t already tell him where they are. “You’re still my friend. I’d like to keep spending time with you—working out or whatever, and I won’t go back on what I said. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you with Steven. I just can’t have sex with you anymore. That’s all. There are plenty of men out there who can’t wait to get into your bed. You won’t miss me.”
But the truth is, I will miss him. I haven’t thought about fucking anyone else in weeks. He’s been everything I need.
“I’m going to go, okay? We’ll…we’ll talk soon.” Gary walks past me.
I don’t know how far he makes it. My back is to him when words I don’t plan on saying push past my lips. “Did I do something wrong?” My voice comes out soft, a whisper, but not as soft as his when I hear him quietly curse behind me.
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
I turn around. He’s in the doorway, facing the hall, when I ask, “Then what is it?”
Gary sighs. I imagine he has his eyes closed. “I want more.” His words echo through me as blood rushes through my ears. I want more.…I want more.…I want more….
Why in the fuck would he want more with me? He knows that’s not what I’m about. Plus, Gary deserves a whole hell of a lot better than me. I’m not sure I’m much better than Peter.
“Nothing to say about that, huh?” He t
urns to face me. “I didn’t plan for it to happen. You’re not who I expected. You’re kind and funny and protective. You make me feel things I didn’t expect to feel, and that’s not what you want. You can’t give me what I need. I didn’t want to need it, but I do. So, it’s better if I stop pretending I’m the guy who can sleep with you and talk to you and then not care if you fuck someone else. I’m already trying to manage enough lies in my life as it is.”
“Is that what this is about? Me fucking other people? Jesus, I told you I wouldn’t screw anyone. I spend all my fucking time with you.”
“Maybe not now, but eventually you will. You have that right. Can you honestly say you can give me something more?” he asks. He knows I can’t. I hear it in the finality of his voice.
It’s not him. I can’t let myself trust anyone completely. I don’t know how.
“That’s what I thought. It’s okay. It was my fault for thinking I could do this. I’ve kinda always known it had to end like this. I’m not the kind of guy who could hook you.”
“Fuck that!” I say louder than I mean to. “Jesus Christ, Gary. Don’t do that shit. I swear I want to kick your ass every time you put yourself down like that. This is my shit. This is who I am. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
He gets a small grin on his face, and I’m wondering what he has to smile about right now. “You’re so much more honorable than you think.”
I roll my eyes because now I know he’s full of shit. I am who I am, and I’m okay with that. “So, we’re really doing this, huh? We’re explosive together. We’re really going to shut that down?”
He looks at me sadly. “I have to. We’re just coded differently.”
I close my eyes and blow out a deep breath. Jesus, why the fuck does this hurt so goddamned much? Why does it feel like he’s twisting a knife in my back? Because it feels like he’s walking away…like he’s telling me I’m not good enough the same way my parents did.
I open my eyes and say, “I’m going to miss that super ass of yours.”
“It’s going to miss you too. And we’re still friends, right? I know we weren’t before but—”
“We are now,” I cut him off. “And we still will be. I’m definitely not going to stop dragging your ass to the gym with me, or making Petey jealous. He’s so fucking jealous. You know that, right?”
Gary rolls his eyes as though he doesn’t believe me. “I’m going to go, okay? Call me if you hear anything from Steven.”
I nod at him, but don’t reply. He pauses for a second. When I don’t say anything else, he walks out of the room. I hear him in the hallway, putting his pants on, his footsteps walking away, and finally the front door closes. After walking over to my bed, I sit on the edge, elbows on my knees and head in my hands.
This doesn’t feel pretend. It feels like I’ve been broken up with, like I lost someone I care about, and I’m not sure what to do about it.
27
Gary
I check my phone again. Eleven o’clock.
I won’t get any sleep tonight; I know it. I keep expecting to look over and see Travis lying next to me. We didn’t spend every night together, so this shouldn’t be strange, but I think my body is recovering from the shock of knowing I won’t get to have him anymore. That I’ll never get to experience those hot, sweaty nights…those nights of such intense passion that left me shaking in ecstasy. Even worse, the mornings of seeing him lying peacefully next to me in bed.
We’re still friends.
But that’s not enough. Not anymore.
I set my phone back on my nightstand, and it vibrates. Again…and again. I grab it quickly.
Travis?
I’m destroyed when I see it’s a Facebook message from Hayden. Last time we chatted was when I messaged him to help us with the fundraiser.
HAYDEN: You guys free?
ME: I am.
HAYDEN: You out? Lance went to Kansas City for a work thing. Wanna go to Ten?
I don’t want to do anything. Not after what happened this morning with Travis. It wasn’t a breakup, but that’s what it feels like. And it hurts. So fucking much.
It won’t help me to spend the night feeling sorry for myself. Not gonna get any sleep anyway. I agree and meet him outside. He walks over from Viewpoint, and we walk to Pump together. It’s where most guys start drinking before heading to Flirt, which is on the opposite side of the street. Three guys head down the sidewalk toward us. The man in the middle’s arms are slung around his friends’ shoulders as they help him along. “And if I want another one,” he says, slurring his words, “I should get to have another one.”
“Not anymore, buddy,” says one of his far more sober-sounding friends.
Once they pass and are out of earshot, Hayden glances behind us and says, “Oh, he is trashed.”
“Right?” I force a chuckle to seem amused and not so defeated.
When we get to Ten, we head to the bar in the main space where everyone’s hanging and drinking. We catch up about work and life while we have our first cocktail when he finally asks, “So what was up with you and Travis that day at the pool party?”
He has a suspicious look in his eyes. “It’s a long story,” I say. “One I’ll have to tell you when we aren’t in public.”
“Fair enough.”
Once we finish our drinks, Hayden glances around. “I’ll get us another cocktail and meet you on the dance floor.” I smile because I like the idea of dancing with him, escaping from all this bullshit that’s stressing me out. That’s what we used to do together when Peter and Lance would hang with guys at the bar to chat. I walk into the adjoining room, where the dance floor is. People crowd it as they dance to Whitney’s “I’m Every Woman,” which plays on the TV screens behind the bar on the other side of the room.
Derek stands at the end of the bar. He scratches at his arm like he’s uneasy about something, his expression more serious than I’ve ever seen it before. Luke Henley, who I recognize from some events he’s talked to Peter at, stands in front of him. A tall guy in his forties, he wears a tight tee that shapes around his impressive, toned body.
Even though I’m not near them, I know the conversation they’re having. I’ve seen it before. It’s the sort of conversation I’ve overheard hundreds of times just by being within the proximity of a couple in the bar.
He’s getting dumped. It reminds me of how Travis looked when I told him I didn’t want to hook up with him anymore. Although it’s not the same. He’s just going to miss the sex. I’m going to miss a hell of a lot more than that.
Derek’s face lets me know how devastated he is. I recall his concern at the fundraiser when he was texting someone—surely Luke. He obviously knew things were heading this direction already.
I’m glad I came out tonight. Neither of us need to be alone right now.
I push my way through the dance floor and reach him while Luke walks over to a small group of guys, who I’m assuming are his friends.
“Hey, man,” I say to Derek.
His eyes are on the TV screen like he’s trying to look anywhere but toward Luke.
He turns to me, his eyebrows twitching as blue light from the TVs sparkles in a fresh tear forming in his eye. He runs his hand through his lengthy blond bangs.
“Hey,” he says, his voice cracking.
“You okay?”
I think my question just made it worse because the tear releases and starts down his face. He shakes his head.
I want to hug him right now, but I don’t want to cause a scene that Luke and his friends would notice because within my periphery, I see they keep looking over here like they want to see how Derek is reacting to the news.
Hayden approaches and hands me my drink.
“Hey, man,” he says with as big a smile as I imagine he can make. “What’s up, Derek?”
I glare at him and shake my head.
Derek glances around. He looks like an animal caught in a trap, trying to find a way out.
�
�Can you guys help me?” he asks. “I just need to get out of here.”
A tear falls from his other eye, down his face.
“I don’t want them to see me cry,” he adds.
Hayden’s expression shifts from playful to serious in an instant, and he stumbles forward, spilling both our drinks and falling onto me.
“What the fuck?” I ask.
He moans as he presses his palms against the bar, grasping around awkwardly like he’s as wasted as the guy we saw being dragged home by his buddies.
Then it hits me.
Clever, Hayden.
I wink at Derek, and his eyes light up, suggesting he gets what’s going on.
I wrap my arm around Hayden and help him up, putting his arm over my shoulder.
“We’d better get him home,” I tell Derek, who wraps Hayden’s other arm around him.
We guide him through the bar, past Luke and his buddies.
“Where are we going? Why are we leaving?” Hayden slurs in an all-too-convincing voice.
He stumbles. Groans. And it takes us a bit of effort to get him out of the bar.
Once we’re halfway down the block to Metropolis, I say, “You can cut the act now.”
“Who’s acting?” he teases as he glances behind us to make sure the coast is clear.
“That was really good,” I acknowledge. “I’d give you the Academy Award.”
“I’ve taken a few acting classes,” he says with pride.
As we turn to Derek, I see the tears are falling one after the other. That’s how I feel right now. I’m doing a better job of keeping it inside, but I’ve had all day to get my shit together.
I step between them and wrap my arm around Derek.
“I think we need to have a guys’ night,” I say. “What do you think about that?”
Derek nods.
We head back to the condo and order pizza and Chinese. When they arrive, we take the food and a bottle of Chardonnay I had in the fridge into my room and turn on Mean Girls, which I have on DVR in case I ever need a good pick-me-up.
