I hadn’t asked for that.
And I’d never asked for him.
“What do I owe you for the car?” Liam asked.
I made a dismissive noise in my throat and folded my arms protectively across the front of my chest. “Nothing.”
“Jasper, come on.”
“Nothing,” I said again.
“At least the parts,” he tried.
“Nothing.”
Liam let out a long breath. “So, it’s like that,” he said softly.
“It’s not like anything.” I finally turned around, leaning my ass against the porch rail and staying as far away from him as I could. I stared at his feet, those tattered, dirt-stained sneakers that were the last thing someone needed to survive a Vermont winter. Every moment another reminder that even though he was here, he didn’t belong here. And with an overbearing father and an unfinished degree waiting for him in California, he never would.
“You don’t really mean that.”
“It’s not like anything,” I said again. “There is nothing. This was nothing. It was a favor and it’s done and you can go now.”
Liam winced, taking a step toward the door, putting more space between us. A surge of regret flared in my stomach, but I powered through it. I’d had years of experience pretending like things that made me want to tear my heart out of my chest didn’t really matter.
“Oh,” he said softly, the word floating away on the breeze. “Okay.”
I dared to look up in time to see him with flushed cheeks and hurt in his eyes. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, and the air crackled between us like it was important, but his expression fell and he shook his head, taking another step toward the door.
“Well.” His hand was on the doorknob and Gus circled around his legs. “Thank you, Jasper.”
I gave him a rough nod and waited until the front door closed behind him to squeeze my eyes closed.
“Shit.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose and started after him, but I heard the inside door to the garage bang closed by the time I’d made it to the entryway.
I could hear Liam muttering and banging around in the garage, the sound of his car door opening and closing, then the wooden doors of the garage rattling as he tried to make work of getting them open. It wasn’t easy, and this was hard enough. Having him here when he sounded so desperate to go…
He hadn’t even put up a fight.
I didn’t even know I’d wanted him to.
I stalked back through the house to the front, making a loop around the house and heading toward the garage from the outside. I kicked the latch at the bottom of the door with my boot and the door swung open. Liam froze and blinked up at me, his eyes as red as his cheeks. He blinked rapidly and muttered a thank you before getting into his car.
I stepped out of the way and waited for Liam to back out, then instead of watching him pull out of the drive, I went into the garage and closed the door without a second look. The sound the lock made as it settled into place echoed through the room like a gunshot, and I moved quickly, hoping a distraction would keep me from feeling sorry for myself.
Sending Liam off had clearly been the right decision. I’d gotten tangled up in feelings for him, been convinced by those sapphire eyes of his that the emotions had been mutual. I should have known better and listened to the words he’d said, not the things I’d apparently been hoping that existed between the lines.
I thought about working on the Mustang, but when I reached inside my toolbox to grab a socket, I sliced the tip of my finger on a knife.
“Fuck!” I yanked my hand out of the drawer, pinching off below the cut to try and stop the blood flow. It was a deep and clean cut, probably wouldn’t need stitches, but it was definitely going to take a while to heal up.
I stomped into the kitchen, kicking Gus’s water bowl over on accident. The water ran and pooled across the floor and I tracked it toward the sink. With my elbow, I flipped the tap on and ran my hand under the stream, then wrapped my hand with a dish towel until I could find a Band-Aid.
Gus circled around me, barking and whining, and I couldn’t tell if he was more upset about me hurting myself or Liam being gone. He trotted behind me up the stairs, waiting in the hall as I went into the bathroom. I had Band-Aids in the medicine cabinet, but it was something on the counter that caught my eye.
Liam’s toothbrush.
“Fuck you.” I swiped my hand across the counter, taking the toothbrush and my shaving cream and the porcelain soap dispenser with it. Everything crashed into a pile on the floor, shattering and cracking against the tile as it landed. I stepped back and pinched my lips between my teeth, glaring at myself in the mirror with a disdainful expression on my face.
“This is what you get,” I told myself, even though I knew it was a lie. What had happened between me and Liam wasn’t a bad thing. It was just a thing. Something that most people experienced in their lives and probably more than once. I’d been luckier than most to have Michael for as long as I had, to have been spared the roller coaster of heartbreak and new beginnings that seemed so mundane to everyone around me.
I yanked open the medicine cabinet and found a Band-Aid for my finger, then set to work picking up the pieces of my bathroom… and my life.
24
Liam
California was worse than I remembered. I’d been back for just over a week and I wanted to be anywhere but.
When I’d left Vermont and driven through the snow-blanketed Northeast, bypassing the other states I’d intended to visit so I could navigate the fastest course back to California, I thought I’d be thankful for the re-emergence of mountains and palm trees and smog.
And yet.
I’d lost most of Vermont in a blur of angry tears and then it was New York and Pennsylvania and Ohio, and three more days of ten hours of driving and then…home.
At least, my parents' house, nestled in the surprisingly still conservative central valley of California, not quite north or south enough to embrace the liberal ideologies the rest of the state was known for. And that was how I found myself on a Saturday afternoon in my dad’s study with a too stiff tuxedo on and shoes that pinched my feet and the weight of his judgement heavy upon my shoulders.
I’d been in California for three days, but I’d gone back to LA, spent the night with Manny, and cursed Jasper’s name and his stupid pretty face while I poured a bottle of champagne down my throat, wondering how I’d picked up a taste for Vermont cider in less than a week. Manny had soothed me as I cried and yelled and cried some more, then he’d laughed at me when I told him I thought I was in love.
And there I was.
Broken-hearted and pretending, the story of my whole life.
“What were you thinking?” my dad asked, pouring himself a crystal tumbler of whiskey from the wet bar in the corner of his office.
“Change of scenery,” I muttered.
“I don’t need your lip. You represent more than just yourself, Liam. You need to think about the decisions you make and the way they’re going to impact your future political aspirations.”
“I don’t have any,” I interrupted him, shoving my finger beneath the collar of my starched dress shirt, trying to get some air.
“Not yet,” he said.
“No.” I shook my head and yanked the tie loose, popping open the top button. The room felt too small, too warm, too stifling. I sat down in one of the hard leather chairs that faced my dad’s desk and sucked in an unsatisfying breath. “I don’t have any.”
“You’ll find a cause to work for once you start the internship,” he continued like he hadn’t even heard me speak. I supposed he hadn’t. I don’t think my dad had heard a word I’d said in years.
“Dad.”
“This is what I’ve tried to teach you,” he said, going on and on and on.
“Dad.” I cleared my throat.
I didn’t think I’d ever been as scared as I was in that moment, and even as I knew what I wanted to
say, I didn’t know how to get the words out of my mouth.
“Think about more than yourself…”
I picked up bits and pieces of the lecture he spouted, but how didn’t he see that I was clearly thinking about more than myself? I was thinking about him and the guitar, and I was thinking about V and V, and I was thinking about Gus and Jasper and Vermont and blankets and furniture made by hand with love. I sighed, staring at the giant oak desk my dad had paid thousands of dollars for. To make him appear dignified, he’d told me, befitting the office he’d been voted into. It looked like manufactured garbage compared to the simple and sturdy table I’d shared a dozen meals with Jasper at.
“What do you have to say for yourself?”
My dad posed the question and finally shut up. I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw, trying to take a breath that would give me confidence and give me strength. I dropped my arm to the side of the chair, almost a reflex now, but Gus wasn’t there. There was no giant fur-covered dog head for me to pet and, fuck, I missed that feeling more than I could articulate. I missed the way I felt playing guitar on Jasper’s porch, bundled in his oversized coat while he listened to me work my way through a song I’d never found the words for.
I needed the words.
“I have three things to say,” I told my dad.
He raised a brow and watched me expectantly from across the study. Emmett’s words echoed through my head from the first night I’d played in town… Be easy with him. Things with Jasper had been easy and I’d been anything but. We fought over something childish and I knew it, but I hadn’t wanted to leave. I’d been scared to leave, and he’d just… he’d pushed me. It hadn’t even been a push, a tap, a flick, and I’d taken the out.
I’d left him and I hated myself for it.
So many times on the way back to California I’d thought about turning around and going back. Fucking some sense into him, telling him how I felt, but I was a shit show. I had everything to deal with in California, the weight of my name and my father’s expectations, and if I wanted to go back to Jasper, I needed to get my life in order first. He had enough to work through without my drama.
All of that assuming he even wanted me.
He’s in love with you, you know.
“I’m gay,” I said, “for one. Two, I don’t want to be in politics and even if I did, I wouldn’t want to work for you.”
“And the third?”
I’d expected more of a reaction about the first two, but as always, my dad had me off guard and uncomfortable.
“Why did you stop playing guitar?”
For the first time in my life, I’d caught him off guard. His expression faltered and the corner of his mouth twitched. He swallowed down the rest of his whiskey and poured himself another glass.
“Why didn’t you tell us you were gay?”
I scoffed, nearly unable to restrain the noise in my throat.
“Are you serious? Why would I tell you, considering…” I gestured at the paperwork strewn across his desk, no doubt the legislation he’d been working fervently to get passed.
“Is that why you don’t want to go into politics?”
I rolled my eyes and stared up at the ceiling, shoulders slumping against the back of the chair. “I just don’t want to.”
“What do you plan to do with your life, then?”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Anything but what I’ve been doing.”
“And this little solo jaunt around the country?”
“I just needed a break,” I whispered.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
I nodded, tears brimming around the corners of my eyes. I couldn’t look at him, so I stared at the parquet wood floor, the thick red and gold rug, the ornate carved feet of his desk. I looked anywhere but him because I would burst into tears if I looked up. Not only did I not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry, but I didn’t want to cry because there was no one to console me.
And, wow, was I tired of being alone.
I hadn’t even realized how I’d been living my life until I’d had to stop and wait. Stop and appreciate things and people the way I had when I was in Vermont, and even with Manny back down in Los Angeles. I missed the smell of pine and dirt and motor oil. The way Jasper’s nails were never entirely clean. I missed the sound of wood cracking in his stove and I missed the way he looked out the big bay window like he was always waiting for someone to come home.
“Music isn’t a career, Liam,” my dad said, his tone softer than I’d ever heard it.
“I know.”
“I wish you’d have told me sooner.”
“Why?” I blinked and a tear slicked down my cheek, landing on the leg of my wool slacks.
“I turned down a slew of qualified candidates for that internship I was holding for you.”
A rough and painful laugh fell out of my mouth and I looked up at him, no point in trying to stop the tears anymore.
“That’s really all you have to say?” I asked.
“The guitar was a gift when I was far younger than you,” he said, setting down his glass and tucking his hands into his pockets. “I was good at it, but it wasn’t going to pay any bills.”
“Have you not heard of hobbies?”
He pointed at his desk. “Does it look like I have time for hobbies?”
“Before. Before you went into politics.”
“This is what I’ve always wanted to do. Music didn’t fit into it.” His answer was so cool and matter of fact, like he’d rehearsed it in the event a reporter broke into the house and found his guitar in the attic and decided to ask him about it.
“Then why did you keep the guitar?”
“Your mother kept it.”
“Why?” I rasped. “Was that the last time she had an opinion that didn’t align with yours?”
My dad at least had the courtesy to wince before answering me.
“That’s how we met,” he said, tipping his chin toward his chest.
“And you still just… shoved it all away?”
“It didn’t fit into my life, Liam.” He pulled his hands out of his pockets and held his hands up in question, like what else could he have done besides zap all of the happiness out of his life.
“How does having a gay son fit into your life?”
My dad dragged his tongue back and forth across the front of his teeth, avoiding my stare. It was honestly all the answer I needed, and I’d known it all along. It was why I hadn’t told him in the first place, and now after hearing about why he’d given up the guitar, my choice had been proven right. If he’d abandon the thing that had brought him and my mom together for his work, he’d clearly abandon his son, too.
“Never mind.” I stood up and plastered on a watery and plastic smile. “You don’t need to answer that.”
“Liam.” He pushed off the wet bar and took a step toward me.
“Please don’t.” I held up a hand to stop him, seeing him clear for maybe the first time in my life. A man so driven by his need to have money and be known, he’d cast everything else aside that mattered. A wave of relief washed over me that I wasn’t like him. I was the complete opposite, because in the face of losing Jasper, losing something that actually mattered or could matter, I was throwing away everything my life had been before I met him.
My fingers tingled with anticipation and promise, my heart pumping with renewed vigor. I tugged the end of the bow tie so it came off and tossed it onto his desk.
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“I’m clearly not going tonight,” I said. “Which… I’ll tell Mom.”
“Probably for the best.”
“Is… is this it, Dad? No, you know what? Don’t.” I shook my head, not wanting the answer to the question. “I’m done with school, and I’m probably done with California. If… If I’m lucky.”
I had a wild idea, but it was the least Jasper deserved after the trust he’d put in me. He’d opened his home to me, a
nd his heart. Even though it had only been for a little while, he’d taken a chance on me. I didn’t want to let him down.
25
Jasper
“I did love him,” I admitted under my breath, spinning the bottle of cider back and forth between my hands. The condensation puddled on the table and made it easy for the bottle to slide back and forth between my fingers.
“You do,” Tai corrected.
“Do,” I quietly agreed.
It didn’t matter, though. I’d practically run Liam out of town, and Gus had yapped at me for almost an hour about it, but there wasn’t anything I could do once Liam left. I didn’t have his phone number, didn’t have his address; all I knew was his name and that his father was a prominent politician in California. I’d looked his dad up, of course, but didn’t read for long. I’d seen enough about the man to understand why Liam had been so cagey with me at first, why he’d been so ashamed to tell me who he was and where he’d come from.
But I still loved him.
“It’s a step,” Emmett said, offering me a warm smile. “It’ll pass you know, at least, as much as it ever does.”
I tipped the bottle to my lips and took a swallow, nodding and doing my best to avoid Emmett’s watchful stare. He and Tai had been by once in the week and a half since Liam left, as always under the guise of checking on Gus, who was clearly fully healed and back to his normal annoying self. I appreciated the sentiment, though.
As often happened, Tai had texted me about coming out for a drink earlier in the day, but unlike all of the previous times, I told him yes. He’d answered me back with a slew of smiling emoji, and that was how I found myself at V and V in the middle of a week. I had to admit, it was nice.
Nice to be out and nice to laugh and smile. It was nice to take a break because I’d spent far more time than I thought necessary on the Mustang during the week. I knew when Michael had gotten her back when we’d been kids that she was going to need a lot of work, but it was so much worse than I’d anticipated owing to the years of neglect. I supposed the car was a good lesson that if I let something sit and ignored it, it wouldn’t magically fix itself.
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