by Sarah Bailey
We still tried to see each other most days regardless of my parents’ attempts at putting a stop to our friendship. I didn’t care what they said or thought about Rhys. He was my best friend and the boy I’d been in love with since we were seven. Ten whole years of pining after him hadn’t dampened my feelings. They’d only grown stronger with the passage of time.
Of course, my parents had no idea how I felt about Rhys deep down, nor that I wasn’t straight. I couldn’t imagine telling them. Not least because my dad expected me to live up to his standards. His expectations. I didn’t think having a gay son would be good enough for Patrick Parrish. Especially not when his son was in love with a boy who grew up on a council estate with an abusive, drunk, unfaithful father and a disabled mother.
I’d made promises to Rhys when we were seven and I intended to keep them forever. It felt like him and me against the world most of the time. We relied on each other. He was there for me when my parents pressurised me and I let him crash at mine whenever his dad got too much, something which had increased with an alarming frequency over the past few years. Graham and Rhys didn’t get on at all. In fact, the moment Rhys turned sixteen, he’d told his dad if he laid a hand on Steph ever again, he’d kick the shit out of him. Something Graham had taken seriously, but it didn’t stop the arguments and screaming matches.
“Pass the water, will you?” Rhys’ voice filtered over, startling me out of my thoughts.
I picked up the bottle next to me and tossed it to him. He sat up and caught it, grinning at me. That grin could stop my damn heart. And it did. Every. Single. Time.
He unscrewed the cap and took a long draw from it, his throat muscles working and making my mouth water. To say I hadn’t imagined his throat working around my dick would be a complete and utter lie. If he knew how many times I’d fantasised about us naked together as I lay in bed with my hand wrapped around my cock, he’d probably hate me for it.
Rhys had never expressed an interest in anyone. Whilst the boys and girls around us coupled up, started sleeping together and got into all sorts of drama, the two of us had remained very much single. Neither of us had even kissed anyone, let alone lost our virginity.
Rhys didn’t know I was attracted to boys. It’s not as if I’d deliberately kept it from him. We never talked about the subject of who we liked, as strange as it sounds. It was always about us. Other people didn’t seem to exist when we were in our own little world. We knew everything there was to know about each other, yet I literally had no idea whether Rhys was straight, gay or something in between. And asking after all this time didn’t feel right.
He screwed the cap back on the water, dumping it next to him and laid back against the grass with his hands tucked under his head. The urge to crawl over him and plant kisses down his bare chest made me look away. I didn’t know why it was worse today, but this felt like absolute torture.
“Mum wants to know if we’ll pop round for dinner tonight.”
I blinked and turned back to him.
“Will Graham be there?”
“No. Him and Mum argued last night. She’s kicked him out again, but fuck knows how long that’ll last.”
This had been the way of things for the past year. Steph kicked Graham out every time they fought and he always came crawling back a week later after spending time with one of his mistresses. Since Graham had stopped beating her, Steph’s health had improved. She had more good days than bad, something I knew gave Rhys a sense of peace.
“Then sure, that’d be nice.”
Rhys opened his eyes and smiled before grabbing his phone and typing out a message to his mum. Graham didn’t like my friendship with Rhys almost as much as my parents hated it. He thought I was stuck up because I came from money. Little did he know I hated being known as the rich kid. Having money didn’t make you any happier. If anything, it made me miserable. My parents were so obsessed with keeping up appearances because of it. And the fact my mum was a famous director so they couldn’t escape the public eye.
Harriet, my sister, loved the attention. But me? I hated it. The only saving grace was my mum putting her foot down with my dad when it came to me. She said if I didn’t want to be subjected to all the media crap that came with their careers, then she’d respect it. They didn’t talk about me in interviews or allow photos. It would all change after I left school. They’d already told me exactly where I had to apply for university and when I’d got my degree, I’d start at my dad’s publishing house, Johnstone & Parrish. I didn’t have a choice in the matter. They’d made up their minds about my future and that was that.
“You sure you don’t mind?”
I smiled at him.
“I never mind, Rhys, you know I love Steph’s cooking.”
He threw his phone down in the grass and moved closer to me, settling himself down on his side with his head propped up by his hand. His closeness made my senses come alive.
“You’re the best, you know that?”
“Uh, yeah, you only tell me like all the time.”
He smacked my arm.
“Shut up.”
“Never. You can’t shut me up even when you try.”
I followed that up by nudging his nose with my finger, something I knew he hated me doing. He grabbed my hand before I could retract it and pinned it next to my head, leaning over me with an amused glint in his dark eyes.
“You’re terribly irritating when you want to be.”
My heart stuttered in my chest, my eyes finding his lips and wishing I could kiss him or even that he’d kiss me.
“You love it really.”
“Oh yeah? We’ve talked about you living in delusional land. I. Hate. It.”
His smile took away the sting of his words.
“You wouldn’t know what to do without me and my irritating mouth driving you up the wall.”
There was one way he could shut me up, but I’m not sure the thought of it had ever crossed Rhys’ mind. He’d never thought about sticking his tongue down his best friend’s throat like I’d been doing ever since I’d hit puberty. And honestly? I’m not sure what I’d do with myself if I found out he had been imagining it. Probably faint.
Rhys wasn’t flirting with me. This was how we were with each other. Thick as thieves. Constantly giving each other shit. The fact he’d pinned my hand down wasn’t anything new either. Rhys and I had always held hands and hugged each other when we weren’t around anyone else. I’d never questioned it because I liked it so much.
“All right, gay boys?”
Rhys let go of me immediately and glared at the newcomer. I turned my head, finding Valentine and his friends a few feet away with cans of cheap beer in their hands. He was three years older than us and still very much an arsehole.
“Get fucked, Valentine,” Rhys practically growled.
Rhys might have cowered away from the guy when we were kids, but when we grew up, he refused to take any shit off anyone. Especially not Valentine Jenkins.
“Ooh, still touchy as ever. Anyone would think you’re ashamed of your hardon for Parrish.”
If anyone should be ashamed, it was me. I shouldn’t be having all these feelings regarding my best friend. I shouldn’t pine over him and wish we could be more. Rhys deserved better than that from me, and yet my stupid hormones went wild whenever he was near me. Making me want things I could never have.
Rhys got up, flexing his muscles as he took a step towards Valentine.
“Aaron and I don’t need your shitty attitude ruining our afternoon. Go bother someone else… unless your face wants to meet my fist, then, by all means, keep going.”
It didn’t escape my notice Rhys never seemed to make a big deal out of Valentine accusing us of being gay for each other. Like he didn’t care if anyone thought that about us. It made my heart soar. If I ever worked up the courage to tell him I liked boys, he would be fine with it. I’d have to keep the part about me liking… no… loving him to myself.<
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“Oh yeah, you think you’re a hard man, do you? Think you can fucking take me?”
“Valentine, leave off, hey?” I said quietly. “We were just minding our own business here before you came over so don’t start something unnecessary.”
He looked down at me for a long moment with an odd expression on his face before huffing, “Let’s go, guys.”
He walked away and his friends trudged after him, glancing back with disgust on their faces. That was exactly why I didn’t tell anyone about my sexuality. Too many people in this world gave you shit for just being yourself. It’s not like I asked to be gay or anything.
“That guy is a fucking idiot,” Rhys ground out through his teeth as he sat back down next to me.
“Too right.”
“He really winds me up. Like who the fuck cares if we’re gay or not. Why does it matter so much to him? He needs to grow the fuck up.”
I stared at him. The anger in his dark eyes and the little furrow between his brows.
“You don’t care if people think we’re together?”
“No, why would I? It’s not like it’s true and even if it was, it’s not their business.”
I ignored the way my heart thumped against my chest at his words.
“You’re right, it’s not.”
He turned to me, the anger dissipating from his eyes. God, I loved his eyes. I could drown in them. Drown in him. My eyes raked down his chest again, wanting to run my fingers over the hard planes of his stomach and lower.
“I only ever care about what you think, A. As long as we’re good, nothing else matters.”
“We’re always good.”
My eyes flicked straight back up to his as the guilt ate me away on the inside. I should not be looking at my best friend like I wanted to eat him up. Nor thinking about how much I wanted to tear his clothes off, pin him down and take him ruthlessly. I swallowed hard. The one thing I’d banned myself from imagining was having sex with him, and yet the images kept playing over and over in my mind on repeat. So when he reached over with his hand and brushed my hair back from my eyes, I just about died.
“You’re cute when you get all serious.”
“W…what?”
“You and these dimples.” He poked my cheek. “It’s totally why those girls over there keep drooling and giggling as they stare at you.”
I blinked, unable to take in what he was saying right then because Rhys noticed I had dimples and said I was cute.
Jesus, Aaron, calm down. He doesn’t look at you as anything other than his best friend.
“What girls?”
He pointed over my shoulder. I turned to look at them. There were five sitting out on a blanket in barely-there tops and shorts. The sight of them did nothing for me. They started nudging each other the moment they realised I was looking at them. I turned back to Rhys as fast as I could, not wanting to give any of them the wrong idea. Except that was a bad idea too as Rhys’ chest was right in my face. And he was laughing.
“Jesus, A, you look like a deer in headlights.” He patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry, they’re not coming over here… unless you want them to.”
“Fuck no,” I said far too quickly.
He laughed harder.
“Oh boy, you’re going to break all their hearts. They’ll be sobbing into their pillows tonight. Boohoo, Aaron Parrish is so hot but he won’t look at me, whatever will I do?”
“Oh, shut up. They’re staring at you with your shirt off.”
He shrugged and laid out flat on his back, his eyes still full of amusement. And I, unashamedly, stared at him just like I’d accused those girls of doing.
“Don’t care. They can look all they want. Not interested.”
“Are you even interested in anyone?”
“No. Girls are too much drama. Besides, I have you, why would I need anyone else?”
I tried and failed not to be affected by his words. He did have me, but he didn’t realise that meant more than just me as a friend. He owned my heart. I couldn’t deny it. I wanted Rhys so much, it burnt a hole in my chest. Except I couldn’t ruin our friendship by telling him. So instead of saying what I wanted to, I gave him a smart comment because that’s the only way I knew how to deal with this.
“What? You’re seriously telling me you wouldn’t say yes if one of them offered themselves up to you on a silver platter? Are you sure you’re a teenage boy, Rhys? Because you’re sounding like a nun right now.”
He reached over and slapped my arm.
“Fuck off. I’m not a fucking nun. Honestly, just because I don’t want to get with a random person doesn’t make me some kind of prude. It doesn’t work like that for me.”
“Then tell me, how does it work?”
I watched him for signs this line of conversation was making him uncomfortable.
“I don’t know. I just don’t feel that kind of way about anyone I’ve met. I can’t explain it… maybe I’m broken or something.”
“You’re not broken. Maybe you’ve not met the right person yet.”
He shrugged.
“I told you. I don’t need anyone else but you, A, so it doesn’t really matter anyway.”
I decided to drop it, not wanting to push him any further. His confession gave me pause. If Rhys didn’t like anyone he’d met, then what the hell hope was there for me?
My heart sunk.
There was none.
None at all.
Chapter Nineteen
Aaron was unusually quiet on the drive from the park to my house. His parents had insisted on him learning right after he turned seventeen and he’d passed his test just before school ended. It came in handy. Before he got his licence, we’d had to take the bus to see each other since his parents were never around. Tamara, Aaron’s au pair, had left when he turned ten and then they had another girl, Maritza, take care of him until he turned sixteen. At that point, they decided he could fend for himself, although his sister checked in on him from time to time.
“Do you think Mum’s made cottage pie?”
Aaron lifted a shoulder in a shrug, his lip quirking up. I wouldn’t put it past her considering she knew it was Aaron’s favourite. She absolutely adored him, but then again, who didn’t? Everyone was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. But he didn’t seem to care about all the girls drooling over him. Though, honestly, I think it had more to do with the fact Aaron didn’t seem to be into girls at all. He’d never said anything to me about it. Then again, we never discussed girls, boys or relationships. Except for today. That had been weird. Really fucking weird.
I hadn’t expected him to ask me outright who or what I was interested in. And I hadn’t been lying when I told him I couldn’t explain it. When we overheard other boys talking about how they’d love to bang some chick, I couldn’t relate to it. I’d never looked at a girl or a boy for that matter and been attracted to them. It wasn’t like I didn’t have sexual urges because fuck did I, but no one made me want to take them to bed. At least no one I should want.
I shook myself as Aaron pulled up outside my house. He turned to me, his blue-grey eyes glinting.
“I bet she’s made apple crumble and custard for dessert.”
“She spoils you.”
He grinned and then got out of the car. I jumped out and made sure he locked the doors. You could never tell with people around here. They’d nick anything they could get their hands on.
We walked up the path and I unlocked the front door.
“Mum?”
“In the kitchen, love.”
Aaron and I walked down the hallway and into the kitchen, finding Mum sitting at the table with a smile on her face. I kissed her cheek, letting her ruffle my hair.
“My beautiful boy.”
“Mum,” I grumbled, pulling away as I stuck my hands in my pockets and moved towards the stove, checking the oven. I smiled when I saw I’d been right, she’d got a cottage pie on the go
.
“Hello, Aaron.”
“Steph, how are you?”
I popped my head back up in time to see him kiss her cheek too.
“I’m well. Rhys love, will you set the table for me?”
“'Course, Mum.”
Aaron took a seat whilst I got the cutlery out of the drawer and the plates from the cupboard.
“You boys been up to anything fun today?”
“Just at the park sunbathing,” Aaron replied. “All the girls were drooling over him.”
I scowled at him as I popped the plates on the table and got some glasses.
“Shut up, they were looking at A, not me.”
Mum smiled, her eyes twinkling.
“Don’t be so modest, love. I bet they were looking at both of you.”
I scoffed, grabbing a bottle of Pepsi out of the fridge and popping it on the table. Aaron put the plates and cutlery out before pouring us all a glass.
“A and I don’t need girls, Mum. They’re drama.”
She laughed, shaking her head as Aaron bit his lip.
“You’ve told me enough times you only need each other.”
I tapped my nose.
“Exactly.”
It didn’t escape my notice Aaron’s cheeks went red at my assertion. I turned away and opened the oven, checking on the food.
“Should be done, love, if you want to get it out.”
I grabbed the oven gloves and pulled it out, setting it on top of the stove. It smelt amazing. Then again, her cooking always did. Now Graham had a job down the local supermarket, we weren’t so hard up for money. I was just glad he wasn’t here right now. It’d likely end up with me telling him to piss off because he’d got drunk again. There was hardly a time he was at home and sober.
Mum, Aaron and I ate and laughed together. She always loved having Aaron here. If only my twat of a father wasn’t around all the time, then we’d be here more.