by Andy Gallo
“Did you?” Brant pulled his gaze away from Jack and shifted it toward the counter.
One of the baristas appeared at his side.
“Your brother said to give this to you.” She put the white mocha on the table and moved away.
“Is Marcus your brother?” Brant asked.
A chill crept over Jack. These questions reminded him of his dates with Ed. “Sorta.” He gave Brant a quick rundown.
“That’s cool.” Brant smiled.
He sipped to collect his thoughts. “So what did Marcus tell you?”
“Not much. Said your boyfriend couldn’t make it to the formal, but you had a bet that you could be the first gay guy to bring a date to the dance. That’s about it.”
Clearly his brother sanitized things. “Here’s the thing. My boyfriend isn’t totally out. His boss’s son is friends with someone in the fraternity. If he comes as my date, it will out him.”
“That’s rough.” He took a drink and leaned back. “What’s this bet?”
“If I don’t bring a date, I have to leave the house.”
“You guys play for keeps.” Brant put the cup to his mouth and watched Jack. “And if you have a date?”
“The guy who bet against me has to leave.”
“There’s no restriction on the date you bring?”
The question took Jack by surprise. Brant was hot and smart. Just like Ed. “It didn’t come up. I think Harper would claim foul, but since it wasn’t ruled out, I can claim I won on a technicality.”
Brant nodded. “It’d end up a push.”
“Pretty much.”
“Am I supposed to pretend to be a date date, or just your friend?” Rocking back, Brant pulled the front legs of his chair off the ground.
Jack saw the irony. Date or friend, Brant was still pretending. “Just a friend. I don’t want to upset my boyfriend. Doubt you want to upset yours, either.”
“What boyfriend?” The wooden legs of the chair thumped down on the tile. “Who said that?”
Jack pointed at his brother. “He said your boyfriend lives in Massachusetts.”
“He must have misunderstood.” Brant shrugged. “My ex and I tried the long-distance thing and it didn’t work. I told Marcus we left open the possibility of dating again if we were both single and living in the same area. But we’ve been broken up for almost two years now.”
This bad idea kept getting worse. “Guess he got it wrong. Sorry.”
“It’s no biggie.” He stared closely at Jack. “Is that a problem?”
Jack twisted his lips. Single, hot, smart. If Ed found out…. He crushed his eyes shut and breathed through the beginnings of a panic attack. “Yeah, I think it is.”
Brant’s head snapped back a bit. “Okay, why?”
Jack dipped a finger in his drink and licked it off. “I don’t think Ed would take it well if I go with you. When I thought you were taken, it already felt weird. But now? I think it will be an issue.”
Brant folded his arms and pressed his back against his chair. “You really like him.”
“Yeah, I really do.”
Neither spoke. Each time Jack looked up, he found a pair of hazel eyes studying him. Finally Brant spoke.
“Good for you.” He smiled widely. “Even as friends it probably is a bad idea to go. I’ll be honest, when Marcus asked, I figured you were a troll or something and you couldn’t find a date. I wasn’t sure I wanted to do that, so I told him I’d meet you and let him know. I didn’t expect you to be so hot.”
Jack laughed softly and studied his barely touched mocha. “Thanks. You are too. That’s part of the problem.” When he realized what he’d said, he looked up. “Even as a friend, I don’t think Ed would be cool if I was going with someone who looked like you.”
“I’m flattered, and I get it.”
Fuck, he hoped Marcus would understand. See at least that he tried. Jack rose from his chair and shook hands with Brant.
Marcus and Billy weaved toward him. The hopeful look on Marcus’s face crushed him.
Jack shrugged tightly and turned away from his brother. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
He made straight for door and then crossed to the path that cut through campus, hand clutched around his phone.
“Wait!” came a yell behind him, and Jack stiffened. Marcus jogged out of the coffeehouse.
Jack toyed with not stopping, but he couldn’t avoid the conversation forever. He released his grip on his phone and shoved it in his pocket.
Marcus threw his hands up. “You two seemed to hit it off great.”
“We did.” He finally met Marcus’s demanding gaze and shrugged. They started walking toward the house. Was this the first of the last times they be this tight? “Brant’s a good guy. Hot, smart, funny, and single.”
“Single? But he….”
“He said his ex and he agreed they’d try again if they were both in the same place. They’re not dating.”
“Okay, he’s single. What’s the problem?” The resignation in Marcus’s voice stabbed at Jack.
He stopped walking and faced his brother. “I just can’t. All I could think about was how I didn’t want to dance with anyone else. This would tear Ed apart.”
Marcus stuffed both hands in his pockets and stared at his feet. He was quiet a moment, and then asked softly. “Ed’s really the one?”
Jack waited until his brother looked up at him. “Yeah, he is.”
“Fuck… then I was wrong to ask you for this.” Marcus looked back toward the coffeehouse. “I’m not gonna lie, it really sucks to have to leave the house, but… it’d suck more having you miserable.”
Jack grabbed his brother by the shoulder. “Please don’t move out with me. I know how much it means to you.” He swallowed twice to get the lump to go down. “I know I let you down, and I’m sorry, but you don’t have to go. There are other guys you can room with.”
Marcus’s pockets turned inside out as he yanked his hands free and threw them on Jack’s shoulders. “Do you really think I’m that easy to get rid of?”
A tight knot formed in Jack’s throat and all his words got stuck behind it. He settled on hugging Marcus instead.
“Know what?” Marcus said, pulling back with a cheeky grin. “I bet we could find a decent place with two rooms and privacy.”
Jack laughed. “I’ve had my fill of bets.”
Chapter Nineteen
Jack checked his phone. “Fuck!” He closed his eyes and tried to calm his racing heart.
“What?” Marcus stopped and turned around. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s after four. I was supposed to meet Ed at the house already.” He scanned the texts from Ed.
Ed: I’m on my way. Text me when you get out of class.
Ed: I’m here. Call me.
The last message came five minutes ago. Jack quickly typed that he was getting coffee with Marcus and a friend and he was on his way back. He stared at the screen for a second and shoved the phone in his pocket.
“See you back at the house,” Jack threw at Marcus and took off. Adrenaline fueled his run, and he didn’t slow until his lungs burned. Even then, he only barely dialed back his pace.
Rounding the corner, he scanned the parking lot and immediately spotted Ed’s distinctive red truck heading for the exit. Waving his hand, he raced to cut him off. Ed turned to the right when he reached the end of the driveway and looked in Jack’s direction.
Jack slowed to a quick jog when their eyes met. They stared at each other for a second before Ed’s eyes narrowed and he shook his head slowly. The wave of sadness coming from him slammed Jack to a halt. After a last, lingering look, Ed tore his gaze away and drove off.
It took a second for Jack’s legs to respond, but by the time he could move, Ed had moved into traffic and was out of reach. He dug out his phone and punched Ed’s name.
“C’mon, answer. Please answer.” Voicemail kicked in, and Jack immediately hit redial. Same thing. The blithe words of Ed’s me
ssage, the ones that twisted Jack’s face in a smile every time, left him impatient and anxious. Finally the beep ended and the words rushed out.
“Ed, it’s Jack. What happened? I’m sorry I was late. Marcus and I were out getting coffee with Billy and his friend. I lost track of time. I know I said four and I’m really sorry I’m late, but please come back.”
He stared at the phone until he realized it was foolish. Even if Ed listened to the message right away—and that didn’t seem likely—he’d need some time to call back. Still confused and unsteady, he shuffled back to the porch in front of their house. Peering over the lawn and down the road, he caught a flash of red—
Not Ed, just a Honda sedan. Damn.
He plopped into a creaky old wicker chair and covered his face with his hands.
“Something wrong, Jack?” Harper’s sickeningly sweet tone had Jack gritting his teeth.
“Go away.”
“I’ve been waiting for you to get back.” Harper gave Jack his best smug-ass smirk. “I hear you had a ‘date’ today.” He made quotes with his fingers.
Jack’s already twisted insides squeezed a bit more. “You heard wrong.”
“You didn’t go with Marcus to meet that fucktard Dorgan and his friend Brant?”
Jack tensed, stomach a whirlwind of angst. How the fuck did he know? Oh. His minion Greg. Fucker. “Mini-Harper didn’t get his facts straight.”
“Whatever you say.” Harper leaned against a post.
Jack closed his eyes and waved Harper away. “Fuck off. I’m not in the mood for you.”
“Just wanted you to know that bringing a friend doesn’t count as a date.”
“Sorry, douche canoe, but you don’t get to rewrite the bet now. As long as I bring a guy, I win.”
“That’s funny.” His faux laugh would have been ridiculous if it didn’t irk the shit out of Jack. “Since you didn’t just come from trying to find a date to replace the boyfriend who isn’t coming, I’m left to wonder what guy are you bringing.”
“What do you know about my boyfriend?”
“I know he came here looking for you.” Harper raised an eyebrow.
Heart slamming against his chest, Jack scanned the road where Ed’s truck had turned away. “What did you do?”
“Do?”
Jack shot up from his seat. “What the fuck did you do?”
“Nothing. Just told him the truth.” The feigned innocence fueled Jack’s fears. “Ed—that’s his name, right?—came to the door looking for you. I told him you had a date with some guy Marcus set you up with, but not to worry, you said you’d be back by four.”
Jack’s body slumped. The stupid virtuous expression on Harper’s face slowly morphed into a sneer. To think Jack had ever, ever thought the guy was okay. Clearly he was the king of pricks.
“I don’t think he believed me, but then he checked his phone and….” Harper looked so pleased with himself. “Whatever he read, it was enough. He asked me when you left for your date. You should have seen his face crumple when I told him.”
Jack fell back into the seat.
“You pathetic, stupid little shit. Did you really think you could get away with bringing a fake boyfriend to the formal?”
Harper held out the chain with Jack’s ring. No, Ed wouldn’t just hand off his ring to anyone…. He knew what it meant. He wouldn’t give it away unless…. “He asked me to give you this.”
Something snapped, and Jack jumped up, fist drawing back to pummel Harper—
A curse came from his right, followed by Marcus sprinting up the steps. He snatched the ring and chain from Harper’s hand. “That’s doesn’t belong to you, Harper.”
“Back off, Reynolds. Jack’s ex asked me to give it to him.” He stepped back toward the front door. “Right after I told him about Jack trying to find a date behind his back. Thought he was going to cry when I told him.”
“You fucking asshole!” Jack lunged at Harper. His rage-fueled tunnel vision didn’t acknowledge anything but the object of his hatred. Marcus locked his arms around Jack’s torso and drove his shoulder into his brother’s gut to keep the two apart. “I’m gonna fucking kill you!”
“Jack! Stop it!” Marcus’s plea fell on deaf ears.
“You’re a fucking dead man, Harper! You fucking piece of shit! I’m going kick your fucking ass inside out!”
Seth and three other fraternity brothers pushed out the door as Jack struggled to get around his brother.
“Let go, Marcus! Let me go!” Jack tried to break the hold. “I’m going to punch the living shit out that motherfucker!”
“Stop! You can’t do that.” Marcus kept an iron grip on his brother, holding on like both their lives depended on it. “Harper, get the fuck out of here!”
“And miss seeing JackAss go ape shit? Not on your life.”
Jack stopped struggling, hoping Marcus would relax enough that he could break free. He waited a few seconds, but when he tried to lunge again, Marcus didn’t budge.
“Get him the fuck outta here.” Marcus nodded behind him. Seth stared at Jack and pointed to their friends, but before they could move, Darren came from behind Harper and pulled him back.
Harper yelled. “What the fuck? I want to stay and feed the animal.”
“That’s enough.” Darren resisted Harper’s attempts to break free. “If Reynolds loses control of Murphy, he’ll beat the shit out of you. You don’t need that.”
“Block the door,” Marcus told Seth. When he and the other three stood in front of the door, Marcus loosened his grip. “Jack, listen to me!”
“I’m gonna rip his head off and shit down his neck!” He strained to get free, forcing Marcus to renew his hold.
“Stop it!” Marcus released his brother and shoved hard before Jack could react. “Just stop!”
“You heard what he did.” He turned around and immediately spun back. “Ed’s gone because of him.”
“No, he’s not.” Marcus stayed between him and the door. “Ed won’t believe him over you.”
“Yes. He does!” He tried to breathe, but it felt like a vise clamped around him. “I saw him.”
“Who?”
“Ed!” Jack closed his eyes as he relived that moment. “He was leaving when I got here. He looked right at me. He looked like his world collapsed.”
“Why would Ed believe him?”
“Because that asshole Greg heard our entire conversation, that’s why.” Add another name to the list of people Jack was going turn into a bloody mess. “Harper spewed the whole thing back to Ed. How he wouldn’t come, that I needed a date, and that I didn’t want you to move out.”
“Call him.”
“Do you think I’m that stupid? I tried already.” He searched around for his phone to see if Ed had answered. It sat on the cushion without a call or text. “My calls go right to voicemail.”
The silence that lingered crushed the last spark of hope Jack had left. If Marcus couldn’t say something to reassure him, it was as bad as Jack feared.
“We’ll get him back.” Marcus knelt in front of Jack. “This is my fault for pushing you. I promise you, I’ll find a way to fix this.”
Jack refused to look at his brother. “It’s not your fault. I fucked up. I chose you over him. I could have said no, and I didn’t.”
“You can’t just give up. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Marcus could argue all day, but the facts were the same.
“Didn’t I?” He finally looked his brother in the eye. “Was that someone else who went to meet Brant after Ed begged me not to go with anyone else?”
The silence that answered him was predictable. He grabbed Marcus by the shoulder and stood. His voice cracked. “I blew it. He said I made him hope, and I blew it. You can’t argue my way out of this one.”
Music vibrated through the floor from the victory party happening downstairs. Jack should be down there, celebrating with Marcus, not hiding in their room checking his phone every two minutes.
He scr
ubbed his tired face. Operating on no sleep sure didn’t make him feel like celebrating. One of the books Ed had bought him at the yard sale sat at the end of his bed, open, revealing rows of neat words. He ran his fingers over the page.
A pounding knock came at his door, followed by Brittany’s voice. “Make yourself decent, we’re coming in!” A second later the door swung in and Brit swaggered in, Nessa hooked to her side toting Marcus’s bag.
Nessa flashed him a small smile. “Someone was about to trip over this thing,” she said, patting the bag as she scooted to his brother’s side table and set it down. She knocked over the photo of his and Marcus’s dads grinning into the camera, and Jack tensed as she picked it up and studied it.
He looked away, focusing on Brittany, who cleared a spot on Jack’s bed and pinned him with a look. “Marcus is the next senior class president. You should be down there.”
His throat pinched as he swallowed. He owed it to his brother to suck it up and celebrate this success, and he would…. He just…. Fuck, it was harder to do than he’d thought. He still needed a moment to gather his wits.
A cell phone dinged, and Jack jumped, hope slamming into his chest.
Nessa, photo still in one hand, pulled out her phone, smiling as she read a message.
Nessa’s phone, not his.
Brittany caught his disappointment and rested her elbow on the box with Jack’s first addition books. “Still bad?”
He heard the sigh in his voice. “Eight messages, a dozen texts, and four emails and he still won’t talk to me. Time to raise the flag and surrender.”
It was over. Ed was gone for good. He winced at the pain and wished they’d leave him alone for a while.
Another text dinged, and Nessa shifted, sitting on Marcus’s bed, photo on her lap. “Jack?”
“Hmm?”
“Marcus says for you to get downstairs or I’m to drag you down by your boy parts.” She snorted and waved her phone. “His words.”
“Tell him I’ll be down in a minute.”
He slipped out of his shirt with the hole at the hem and rummaged in his dresser for a nicer one.