by Riley Hart
The problem is I do know about it.
I should have been more sensitive. Travis was feeling vulnerable. I know how he gets—defensive. I’m normally good at keeping my cool when he gets that way, but tonight, he hit such a sore subject that I lost it. Got defensive right back at him.
“It sounds like you were pushing him to do something you knew he didn’t want to do,” Hayden says, “so of course he was going to do the same to you.”
“You’re right,” I admit. I take a sip of my drink. “We’ve never had a fight. Not like this. I mean, he was pissed.”
But I know him well enough to know that when he gets angry, it’s because he’s hurt. And knowing I hurt him tears me up. I should have been there for him after he told me that stuff about his father. I should have set aside my own insecurities and soothed him.
“I should’ve kept my stupid mouth shut.”
“It’s not a crime to have a fight, Gary,” Hayden says, seeming amused by how seriously I’m taking this. “Considering all that you guys had going on, it was bound to happen. It sounds like you’re both trying to figure out where you stand now that your relationship is totally different.”
Relationship? There’s a word I don’t want to hear right now.
As I start to breathe normally again, already feeling relaxed chatting with Hayden about this, I feel kind of silly for having forced my bullshit on him.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t have come here. I know we haven’t talked over the years, but—”
“Oh, shut up, Gary. That’s the way it goes. You run into people in similar circles, but being in a relationship, you have obligations. Certain people that you have to hang with. Me and Lance are the same way. You and me have always had a good time together, and I wouldn’t go running off to have a guys’ night with just anybody. This is what friends are for.”
I smile at him referring to himself as my friend.
“I don’t have a lot of those,” I admit. “When I was with Peter, I ran with the circles he ran in. Sort of took on his life rather than making my own. Derek was the only friend I had outside of Peter’s friends. Oh, and Peter hated him so much. Although Derek was never his biggest fan either.”
I smirk as I remember some of the clever insults Derek would use against him.
“We’re in the same boat then,” Hayden says. “I’m always hanging around Lance’s friends, but I never took the time to make my own, and now he’s gone so much for work, and I sit here by myself. Gets lonely.”
“Why don’t you hang out with his friends?”
“Those assholes?” he asks, a playful expression on his face, but I can tell he’s serious. It’s how I’ve always felt about a lot of Peter’s close friends.
“It’s hard to find good people in the world, Gary. But when you find them, you have to keep them around.”
He’s a sweetie, and I appreciate how at ease he’s made me just listening to my rant about Travis.
“So now that we’re basically old-time friends,” he says, “you want my real opinion of this Travis shit?”
“Rather than your fake opinion?”
“Don’t be a Derek,” he teases me as he offers a glare.
I smile.
“You really like him. And from what you told us the other night, I think you’re bothered that he doesn’t feel the same, so you weren’t lashing out at him about your parents, but about the fact that you feel like every time you’re around him, he’s rejecting you.”
It’s true. When we’re talking, I still feel these things for him…and it hurts knowing he doesn’t feel anything more.
“I just don’t understand how he can be the way he is. I’m not even sure I’m mad at him as much as I am myself. I started hooking up with him so confident this wasn’t going to happen. I was fucking determined, and he wasn’t my type at all…and not even the kind of guy who would ever give me a second glance.”
“What?” Hayden sounds shocked.
“You’ve seen Travis. He’s like a ten.”
“And what do you think you are?”
The expression on his face reminds me of how Travis looks when I say something self-deprecating. Peter never used to get like this. If anything, if someone said something about me being cute, he’d just say, “Gary’s doable.” It was always said as a joke, but it got to me.
“I’m not playing this game,” I say.
“No, I want you to tell me where you are on this little scale you have in your head.”
“It’s not important.”
“I think it is.”
“Oh my God. Like a six point five. Seven, maybe.”
He chuckles. “Oh, wow. Peter fucked you up real bad.”
“That’s average!”
“The guy who was dancing on that stage at the fundraiser didn’t think he was average.”
He’s right. That guy and the guy who fucked around with Travis never felt average, but that’s not how I feel most of the time. I feel like…I’m just Gary. And obviously, I wasn’t enough to satisfy Peter.
“Can we stop talking about this?” I ask. “It makes me uncomfortable.”
“As your new friend, it’s kinda my job to make things uncomfortable. Travis would be lucky to have a guy like you. An honest, attractive guy who—based on what you said the other day—gives him some mind-blowing sex.”
“Saying it isn’t going to make me believe it.”
“Well, if we’re going to make some real headway on this, I’m gonna need to get a degree, and you’re going to have to start paying me an hourly rate.”
I smile again. Hayden is better at having serious conversations and making me laugh than Derek, who would prefer to avoid serious conversations altogether.
“What do you really want with Travis?” he asks.
“I can’t have that.”
“Okay…rephrase…knowing he doesn’t want you that way, what do you want?”
“I want to be his friend.”
“Even after the fight?”
I nod.
“Can you do that?”
As I imagine being around him like I was tonight, my face twitches and my eyes tear up.
“I don’t know,” I say. “I miss him, Hayden.”
A tear stirs in my eye. It reminds me of when I saw Derek the other night.
“I don’t like that I get like this, but I wake up now, and it’s weird not having him in the bed with me. It feels so empty. And not like it did with Peter. When Peter left, it felt like I missed him out of habit. Like missing having a piece of furniture. With Travis, it’s like, I want him there in case something exciting happens. So I can celebrate with him if Steven calls. Or in case something happens with work and I want someone to talk to. It’s stupid stuff, and I know he’s not responsible for not feeling the same way about me, but then he says shit like I’m amazing or like I deserve someone incredible, and it just pisses me off because I don’t understand how I can be so amazing if he doesn’t even want to be with me. And I know it’s not his fault, but that doesn’t keep it from hurting…so fucking much.”
I wipe at my face, spreading what tears have fallen on the back of my hands.
“So now are you ready for the million-dollar question?” he asks. “Do you want to cut him out of your life for good?”
Just hearing those words makes another tear slide down my face.
God, I hate myself so much for how much I care. How much it hurts.
I shake my head. “I want to be friends, but I don’t fucking know how to do that. I look at his face—that fucking beautiful face—and it’s like this switch turns on in my brain that I can’t turn off. I think that’s why we started fighting…because he keeps saying these things about me being awesome and it gets to me. He even told me something really personal that he’s never told anyone, and I don’t know how to process that. What does that even fucking mean? It makes me mad because it’s like he’s doing it on purpose. Like he’s trying to drive me insane. But then I get out of
it, and I know it’s all in my head.”
“It’s not a crime to feel this way,” he says. “You can’t help that you like someone, and if he doesn’t get that, he’s an asshole. But I think he does, and if you care about being friends with him, then you have to push through those feelings. You’re going to have some fights. It might be a little weird for a while, but you have to struggle through it.”
“You think it’ll get easier?” I ask.
“Fuck if I know,” he says with a smile, his eyes lit up.
“Look, there’re a lot of things going on with him right now. He’s stressed about the money he may or may not be getting. He has this big thing coming up with his family. He’s frustrated. Give him some space, and you need space, too. Wait for him to reach out to you.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“Then you know how he really feels about being friends with you.”
Scary as his words are, I know he’s right.
30
Travis
I fucked up, and I know it.
Gary didn’t deserve for me to lash out at him the way I did. If anyone understands what it means to be outted before you’re ready, it’s me. To put him in the same situation and call him out for not telling his parents was a dick move. He deserves better than that.
I push the weights up again and again, hoping the strain in my arms will help with the built-up tension rushing through my body, but then that just makes me wish he was here working out with me because it’s a whole hell of a lot more fun with his goofy ass beside me.
I am so fucked.
Once I finish lifting, I set the bar back and sit up. Sweat runs down my forehead and stings my eyes.
“Where’s your man?” some guy that I’ve seen around Metropolis asks. I don’t even remember his name, yet somehow, he knows I’m with Gary…only I’m not with him. He just thinks I am.
“He has shit to take care of.” I stand up, not really in the mood to talk to anyone. After wiping my face with my towel, I head to the showers and clean up before I meet my brothers for lunch. My ass really doesn’t want to go there. I know there will be a last-ditch effort to get me to go to Liz’s party, and as much as I know it makes me a prick, I really don’t know if being there is the best idea.
The place we’re meeting is within walking distance from the gym. When I get to the little pub, I already see Martin and Malcolm sitting in a booth toward the back of the room.
“What’s up?” I ask as I slide into the brown, leather bench seat beside Malcolm.
“Not much. I ordered you a beer to start with,” Martin says just as the waitress shows up with a frothy mug of beer. Fucker is bringing out the big guns. He knows how I like my dark brews.
“Thank you,” I say. She asks if we’re ready to order, and I go ahead and get the biggest burger and fries on the menu because I’m not ready to get back into eating well. I deserve this shit.
The second she disappears to put our order in, Martin starts in on me. “The party is this Saturday. You’re going to go, right?”
“Jesus, don’t I at least get to enjoy the beer you ordered for me before the harassment starts?”
“Nope.” He winks at me. I ignore him for a moment and take a drink, letting the cool liquid slide down my throat before leaning back in the booth.
“Did you tell Mom and Dad you want me there?”
He gets a sad look in his eyes, and I know what their response was without him having to say it. “I did, and I don’t give a shit how they feel. They love you, Travis. I know they do—”
“Don’t.” I hold up my hand to stop him and thankfully he listens.
When his phone rings, he looks at the screen and excuses himself, leaving Malcolm and me alone.
“I know this is hard on you, Trav. I can’t pretend to understand. I hate that this is the way it is, but don’t let them stop you from living your life.”
“I don’t,” I tell him. “I make it a point not to.”
“Maybe outside of the family you do, but not with this. You go about your life, which is great. You should, but then you ignore that we are also a part of that life. I know you want to be there…I know you do because that’s the kind of man you are, big brother. You want to be there for Martin because it’s important to him. You’ll regret it if you don’t go.”
“Fuck,” I curse quietly because I know he’s right. I want to be there. I don’t want to let my parents keep me from spending time with my family.
“It’s okay to let yourself be loved, ya know? I’m not sure if you realize that’s what you do, but it’s true. I know they let you down, but not everyone will. I won’t. Martin won’t. I’m sure you have friends who won’t let you down either. Let us in.”
It’s okay to let yourself be loved.
I know they let you down, but not everyone will.
I’m sure you have friends who won’t let you down either.
“Don’t let yourself have regrets. You deserve better than that, and you’re stronger than that. Bring backup if you need to. What about your friend Cody?”
It’s then that a pair of blue eyes pop into my head—shy but sexy and confident when he’s not thinking too much. An infectious smile, and those throaty noises he makes, and the way he looks at me like I’m king of the whole goddamned world.
It’s not Cody that I’m thinking of right now…it’s Gary.
Oh fuck.
“What’s the smile for?” Malcolm asks, and I realize it’s not the first time someone has asked me that question when I’m thinking about Gary. Because somehow, I know he’s the backup I want in my corner. That he’s the person who would make the night bearable.
“I gotta go.” I push to my feet.
“Huh?” Malcolm asks.
I don’t know…Jesus, I don’t fucking know, but my head and gut are in knots and…“I need to apologize to someone.” Because if I don’t, Gary will be a regret, and the thought of him being that feels like something is eating through my heart.
“Right now?” Malcolm asks.
“Yes, right now. Sorry… I…tell Martin I’ll call him later.” My footsteps are heavy as I make my way through the pub. Gary’s office is only a few blocks away, so I head directly for it. It’s as if I’m suddenly possessed by some kind of something I don’t understand. I feel like I’m always thinking that when it comes to him because I realize now that Gary makes me feel things no one has made me feel before.
I head into his building, and I must look like a man on a mission because people move out of my way as I go. I put my phone to my ear as I pace the lobby, waiting for him to answer his cell.
“Hello?” he says tentatively, and it’s like a knife to the chest. He sounds the way he did when we first started talking.…He sounds like he does when he speaks to Peter, and there’s no one to blame but myself.
“I’m in your lobby. Can you come down? Or can I come up?” There’s a neediness to my voice that I can’t deny.
“Yeah…sure. Come up. Fifth floor. I’ll meet you by the elevator.”
It feels like it takes an eternity for the elevator to reach his floor. When the doors open, Gary’s standing there, his head cocked and so many damn questions in his eyes.
He leads me to his office, and the second the door is closed I say, “I’m sorry,” only to have the same two words spoken by him at the same time.
“What are you sorry for?” I ask him.
“For not voicing how important what you told me is. For letting my own insecurities and feelings block out the pain you were feeling.”
I close my eyes and shake my head before opening them again. “You’re such a fucking knucklehead. Of course, you would take the blame on yourself.” And let’s for a moment forget the fact that I just called him a knucklehead. What the fuck is wrong with me? “I shouldn’t have pushed you. I shouldn’t have taken my family shit out on you. You’re…fuck.” I run a hand through my hair and walk away from him, stopping when I reach the window. “Somehow you
became my safe place where I can admit things I don’t usually admit, which makes me take my frustrations out on you because…”
“Because you trust me?”
I shove my hands deep into my pockets. “I want to. I want to so fucking much.”
That maybe is the most real thing I can say to him. It’s not any kind of promise—those are mostly empty anyway—but it’s the desire to want to do better…to be better.
“I don’t…” his words trail off, and I turn to look at him. “I don’t know how to do this—whatever this is. One minute you’re talking to me about me going home with someone else or saying you don’t feel the same, but then you say shit like that. I’m trying, Trav. Trying so fucking hard to keep the line intact because I don’t want to lose your friendship, but you make it so difficult. I don’t understand how you can say things like that but then not give a shit.”
“No one said I don’t give a shit. I’m here. This is a big fucking deal for me to be here like this. I just…I don’t want to lose you either.” I take a step closer to him…then another. “My thoughts are all over the damn place. I think about you all the time, even over stupid shit. I’m trying. No one has made me want to try before you.”
It’s like he’s frozen in place—his eyes wide.
“I know, right? I can’t believe I just said that either.”
He cracks a smile then, and it lures me in, pulls me to him, a force I can’t control.
“I don’t want to get hurt,” he tells me.
“I don’t want you hurt either.” Then because I need to be real with him, “And…I don’t want to get hurt either.”
He sucks in a shocked breath, and Jesus, I want my tongue in his mouth. Want to bite his lip and twist my hand in his hair and hold him close. Kiss him until he can’t breathe anything in but me.
“Can you go with me?” I ask him.
“Go with you where?”
“To Martin’s party for Liz. I don’t want to miss it. I want to be there for my brother, but I don’t know if I can do it alone.”
Holy shit, this being vulnerable stuff is hard. I sort of want to melt into the ground admitting that.
