by Cole, Fiona
I sat back on the couch and pulled my knees to my chest, letting silent tears fall as I stared up at the ceiling.
The one thing I hadn’t been able to close the door on was my friendship with Jake, and maybe that made me the dumbest fool on Earth, but if I cut him out of my life, I’d lose more than my fiancé, I’d lose my best friend. That thought alone had me nauseous and curling up tighter in a protective ball. My fiancé had cheated on me, and I couldn’t forgive him for that, but my best friend had fallen in love with someone else and lied to me about it. I hated him now, but I wouldn’t always. I could forgive my friend. I wanted to.
But losing Jake was only part of the tidal wave of emotions hammering me. Thinking about talking to my father and telling him that Jake and I weren’t getting married made me nauseous. “Ugh,” I groaned. He wasn’t even here, and his disappointment was palpable. A laugh slipped free when I wondered how long it would take before my father began lining up suitors who could take the Russo spot in running the Russo portion of the company.
God. Work.
A whole new week greeted me in less than twelve hours and I’d have to face my father, which would only prelude the wildfire of rumors doomed to spread across the office. I’d have to face Jake, and my chest caved over another sob at seeing him again so soon. I wasn’t ready, the wound too fresh. If I had to face him with the pain tearing through me—watch him move on with Jackson—the bitterness would poison me, and I’d sabotage our friendship. Unable to hold it back.
No. I couldn’t see anyone tomorrow.
I snatched my phone off the table and sent a quick message to my secretary to cancel my meetings all week. I had vacation days and it wasn’t like my father would notice. He took over most of my projects anyway. All except Alexander’s. The first smile since Friday twitched at my lips as I thought about how I still hadn’t sent those files over.
I’d take the week off work for myself, but I’d continue to move forward with Alexander’s business. By the time I got back to my office, it’d be too late for my father to do anything. Kent’s contract would be underway, all done by yours truly.
Capturing the first spark of happiness, I stood and showered off the day—the entire weekend—and crawled into bed. I played my most upbeat, soft music and stared at the ceiling until my body caved to sleep.
Like it had the past two days, my mind shifted toward my gray-eyed stranger. Such a small moment in time that had flooded my thoughts, guided my decision-making ever since.
Be first.
Two words that I would keep with me in everything. I deserved to be first.
Well, those words and his kiss. His soft lips would slip into my mind at random moments, and I had to touch my own as if I could recreate the feeling they’d left. I did it again now, closing my eyes and dragging my fingers across first my bottom lip, then my top. My chest fluttered remembering his taste, remembering the words he’d muttered to me.
The fact that I couldn’t stop my mind from straying was the other guide in my decision to confront Jake. How could I be with Jake if immediately after being hurt, I was able to fantasize about another man I didn’t even know? How could I be with Jake when the excitement from that kiss consumed me? Was that how he felt with Jackson? Not necessarily wanting to let yourself be consumed by someone else, but unable to fight it?
Not that it made it okay, but enough of my mind settled at least understanding a hint of his side. I hated it—hated him—but understanding soothed the sharp edges of my pain. Enough to sleep.
By morning though, my emotions had swung back in the other direction of hurt and anger. I tried to distract myself from them. I ran, grabbed groceries, read at the bookstore before spending too much. None of it worked. My heart raced, and my muscles tightened every time I thought of the betrayal—thought of everything I had to face.
And then I realized, there was still a loose end I had to tie up. There was still someone I needed closure with to really move on. Jake hadn’t been the only one to hurt me. Jake wasn’t the only part of this equation. Jackson had been more than a partner in bed; he’d been a friend first, someone I trusted. Hence why I’d even let him be a part of our sex life. And he’d betrayed me. He’d taken advantage of my trust and hurt me.
And despite my anger toward them both, I worried. The soft part of me—I currently hated—worried. What if Jake got hurt by Jackson? He’d looked lost last night, and the way he spoke lacked all his usual confidence, stuttering over his words, unsure of himself. I hated that I cared, but as if there were two sides of me, the friend side wanted to defend Jake no matter what. Even if he didn’t deserve it.
He had no one else to look out for him.
Just like I’d be alone without him.
* * *
Jackson
“Can you grab another box of napkins before restocking the liquor?” I asked Kyle, my bartender. “It’s just you for a while, but then Wendy is coming in to help out.” He gave a quick nod that he heard me before disappearing down the hall.
It had been all of one day since I’d seen Jake. Not even twenty-four hours. Somehow, I’d managed to only send one message to him, asking him if he was okay. What I really wanted to do was send question after question, demanding he answer them all. Are we friends? Are we more? Does Carina know? Did you choose her? Can I still be with you if you chose her? When can I see you again? Can I kiss you? Touch you?
But I’d been strong with just one simple message. I said I’d be his friend if that was all he wanted me as. So, a friend was what I’d acted like. He’d responded saying he was fine but needed some time. I’d stared at the message a solid ten minutes trying to decipher it without any tonal inflection. How much was ‘some time’? A week, a month, a year? Or twenty-four hours? Less? I desperately wanted it to be less. My mind quieted when I was with him.
However, ever since I woke up this morning, my thoughts had been anything but calm. They ran through every scenario from Jake never speaking to me again, to coming to me begging to be with him, to him showing up with Carina on his arm asking me when we were going to fuck again. The not knowing ate me from the inside out.
Then my mind would swing to Carina, and I wanted to pummel myself to a pulp. I missed her. I missed our dynamic and spending time together. For a while it was like I belonged. It had been so long since I’d had that welcome feeling that I’d grown used to not having it. It never made a difference that it wasn’t there. Until it was and now it haunted me like a ghost limb.
“Fuck,” I muttered dragging my hands over my face.
I had no right to crave that acceptance. I’d destroyed it. I’d destroyed my connection with Carina. And I should be rotting from the inside because of it, and I was. But I also wasn’t. Because also inside me were butterflies when I thought of being with Jake, when I remembered the way he’d held me and fucked me last night. Just the two of us. No dare, no running, just us and our desperate need for each other.
I was a mess. It was all a mess and I could only imagine that this was a small mix-up compared to the confusion Jake was going through. I remembered when I first realized I’d been attracted to men. I’d run from it and boiled it down to teen hormones and being turned on by air. It had taken me years to accept it and I’d had a loving family to support me. Jake had a field of unknown land mines.
I was checking off boxes for inventory when the door chimed.
“We’re closed for another hour,” I shouted.
Instead of hearing the bell chime again to indicate they left, angry footsteps got closer. I jerked around, prepared to kick them out when I was met with a pair of fiery blue eyes, blazing angrily at me. My hands discreetly moved to cover my junk because Carina didn’t look like she was coming to kiss and make up.
She kept coming until she stood right in front of me, then pulled her arm back, nailing my chest with her small fist. She hit me hard enough that I grunted and fell back a few steps.
“That’s for making me like you.”
Another punch that had me wanting to bring my hands up to block her, but still worried about my balls.
“That’s for fucking around with my fiancé behind my back.”
Another punch.
“That’s for pretending to be my friend.”
I closed my eyes in pain from her words more than her hits. I didn’t see the slap coming at my face, but my neck jerked to the side and a loud crack rang out right before the stinging pain registered. I moved my jaw and turned to face her, not even defending myself, because I knew I deserved it.
And seeing tears fill her eyes and watching her hand tremble as she pointed at me, hurt more than any damage she could physically do.
“And that—” Her voice cracked. “That is for breaking my heart. I trusted you. We were friends.”
I held still a moment longer, making sure I was an easy target if she needed me to be. But when her first tear fell, I couldn’t hold back anymore.
“I’m so sorry. Fuck,” I growled. “I deserve your words, your rage, your pain. I deserve it all. Because I do like you. I—I don’t have many friends and we clicked and I…I fucked it up and I’m sorry.”
“You’re an asshole,” she ground out between clenched teeth.
“I know.”
“And I hate you.”
I winced like she’d slapped me again. “I know. And I want to say I would go back to the very beginning and never accept that game of truth or dare, but I can’t. I enjoyed every second with you. With both of you. And I ruined it.”
She glared at me, the muscles of her jaw twitching as she did her best to light me on fire with just a look. And maybe it was selfish of me, but I had to let her know it wasn’t just to fuck around. It wasn’t meaningless.
“I love him,” I told her. This time she was the one to wince. “I’ve put everyone before me for so long and I can’t with him. I love him, and I’m so sorry that I do.”
She stood frozen like a beautiful angry statue, letting the silence settle around us like a heavy blanket, trapping me in the spot. I closed my eyes again because it hurt to look at her.
A sharp, searing pain shot through my nipple and I tried to jerk back, but Carina’s tight fist held on only tugging harder and the burn spread through my whole chest.
“God, fuck. Dammit. Shit.” The swear words came pouring out of my mouth as she twisted my nipple harder before finally letting go.
“That’s just a preview of what would happen if you ever break his heart.”
My eyebrows shot into my hair line. “What?”
“He loves you and he’s my friend. I hate you both right now and want to crush your stupid dicks, but he’s my friend and he loves you.” If my jaw dropped anymore, it would be dragging on the floor. “And I will cut your prized dick off and hang it from my mantle like a fucking stocking if you took him from me just to break his heart.”
My jaw flapped open and closed as I swallowed repeatedly, trying to find the correct response.
“Like a stocking?” I whispered. I have no idea why that was the thing my mind clung to.
Carina stepped up closer to me and dug her finger into my chest. “Like the smallest fucking stocking ever to grace my mantle on Christmas morning,” she whispered.
My hands went from protecting my junk to clinging to it for dear life.
God, she was beautiful in her rage. We had fucked her over, broken her trust and somehow, she still stood there threatening me if I ever hurt the man she was supposed to marry.
“I—I don’t know if he even wants me.”
She stepped back and dropped her hands to her sides, her shoulders sagging as the fight drained out of her. “He does.”
I breathed a laugh and took a chance to remove my hands from my crotch to run them through my hair. “How are you the one consoling me? Fuck, this isn’t right.”
“Because as much as I hate you right now, you were my friend too. I want to ignore that, but I can’t just turn it off so easily. No matter how much I want to.”
She shook her head and turned to leave, ending the conversation.
“Carina, I really am sorry. You deserve so much better.”
“So I’ve been told,” she said without even stopping her exit.
I hated watching the door close behind her. Hated thinking it may be the last time I ever saw her. Hated everything about everything in that moment.
I stood and stared at the door for a while longer until Kyle came back out of the storage room, breaking me from my trance.
“Anything else?”
“Umm…” I struggled to get my mind to focus on his question. “Uh, just pick up where I left off with inventory. I have a phone call to make.”
I rushed to the back to grab my phone. Twenty-four hours was more than enough time. He could ask for space, but Carina’s words rattled in my head.
He loves you.
Pushing open the office door, my lips twitched. I didn’t need to see him, but I needed to hear his voice.
28
Jake
“I’m gay.”
I stared at myself a second longer in the bathroom mirror before I tried it again, but in a deeper voice, like it would make a difference. “I’m gay.”
If someone walked in at any point over the past four days they’d probably try to haul me off to a mental ward. I’d taken the week off work, and I’d only left my apartment for necessities. I’d stopped shaving and my close-trimmed beard was becoming very mountain-manish. I hadn’t worn anything other than athletic pants and t-shirts no matter where I went. I wondered what Carina thought when we happened to catch each other’s eyes in the building. We never spoke, but she managed to give a tight-lipped smile before looking away.
She seemed to be doing better than me. At least she looked it. Every time I saw her, she was beautiful. It made me happy that she looked okay, even as I crumbled away in my apartment. I deserved it.
“I’m gay.”
I pinched my lips and shook my head. It felt wrong saying. Like a skin that didn’t fit me. Each time I said it, everything grew tighter like I was being strangled. I wanted it to be true. I wanted to believe it because then I’d have an answer. I slapped my fists on the counter before squaring my shoulders and trying again. But when I opened my lips, another thought crashed in my mind and I tried that instead. Taking a deep breath, I watched the man in the mirror like he would give me all the answers I’d been missing.
“I’m in love with Jackson.”
My eyes softened, and my chest loosened enough to take a full inhale. My skin prickled in excitement and my lips twitched with a smile.
“I’m in love with Jackson,” I said again. “I’m in love with Jackson.”
I wanted to say it again and again. The statement wrapped around me like the perfect t-shirt you kept until it fell apart. Like it was always there, but you forgot it behind all the other clothes, but when you slipped it on, you were home.
I breathed a soft laugh that grew into a full-body laugh. It escaped my chest and exploded out of me. “I’m in love with Jackson.” I didn’t know if I was truly excited about saying it and feeling good, or if I was actually having a mental breakdown. Stumbling back into my room, I sat on my bed and let the laughter fade.
Dragging my hand through my hair, I thought about my next move. I thought about coming out, about walking around with my hand in his. Pride and fear assaulted me in equal measures, and I hated that the fear felt bigger than the pride.
I’d have to tell my mom and my stomach churned at the disappointment she may have. Would she look at me differently? Would she take Carina’s side? Would she still love me?
“Fuck,” I muttered.
Before I told my mom, I had to call Jackson. I’d been barely holding him off all week and each time I avoided him, I both hoped and dreaded him showing up at my door. But the messages had slowed down over the past few days and I wondered if he was giving up. What if I finally discovered this after talking to myself all week, just to find out he ha
d grown too frustrated? In fact, he hadn’t messaged me at all today and it was already two.
I snatched my phone off the nightstand to pull up his last message.
Jackson: Okay.
He’d asked me how I was, and I’d told him I was busy, which was a lie and he’d said, Okay. Now, I looked at it like there was a whole novel behind that word. Why just okay? The first few days his messages had been supportive and caring. Just want to let you know I’m thinking about you. I’m always here for you. I hope you’re doing well. I miss talking to you. And I’d brushed them off, too scared to encourage more conversation. What was I supposed to say? Hey, I keep saying I’m gay to myself and it just doesn’t feel right. So, I guess I’m not gay.
I flopped back on the bed and tossed the phone before I could send something stupid.
When the knock came at the door, my heart hammered against my chest like it was trying to break its way free to get to whoever stood on the other side, hoping it was Jackson. I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants and tried to finger comb my hair into order. Should I change before answering? Another knock, harder this time, had me forgoing that option and rushing out to answer it.
With numb hands, I opened the door, a hesitant smile on my lips.
The smile slipped, and I stepped back, disappointed when it wasn’t Jackson’s smile that greeted me.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Well, don’t be too excited,” she said, walking past me into the apartment. She stopped at the foyer and looked around. “Goodness, Jake. It’s called a trashcan.”
She moved to set a bag on the table and began cleaning up.
“Mom, you don’t have to do that.”
“Obviously I do if I want to have a place to sit and have lunch with you.”
I watched her move about and began helping to clean up. At least the dining room. “What are you doing here?”
“Can’t a mom bring her son lunch?” I cocked my eyebrow. “I tried to call your office and they said you were out of work all week. Then I called your cell. No answer. Then Carina’s office. Then Carina. All of them with no answer. Finally, I called David, and he informed me his daughter was taking sick leave.” She cocked her hip and pursed her lips. “Well, when I saw her running down the block just now, she looked anything but sick. I was going to bring you both lunch and ask what the hell is going on, but I think I’ll just ask you.”