by Kora Knight
Without thinking, he jerked back out of Scott’s arms, and glanced toward the rowdy commotion. Four guys heading to the adjacent building, not even looking their way.
And then they were gone, just as fast as they’d come. Tad rubbed his nape and turned back to—
Oh, fuck.
Cold hard dread flooded his veins. The look on Scott’s face… Goddamn it. Tad had screwed up again. Had shoved the man away without even trying. Which was actually worse than doing it intentionally in its own messed up way.
Inside Scott’s ride, the stereo’s edgy cadence transitioned into Mr. Probz’s “Waves.” An ominous shudder shook Tad’s frame. The change was way too perfect a parallel to the moment’s unsettling vibe. Heated energy quickly downshifted to the slow, sober chords of a guitar, foreshadowing regret… and a boatload of pain.
“And there we have it,” Scott quietly intoned. “What I want that you can’t give.”
“No,” Tad choked out, shaking his head, a lump of shame forming in his throat. “That wasn’t— I didn’t—” He took a step closer, reaching for the guy. “It was reflex, dude. I swear it. I wasn’t trying to—”
Scott held up his hands in a gesture to halt. “Tad. Just stop. And listen to me.” Dark, solemn eyes held Tad’s firm. “I won’t hide for you. I won’t. Not from your friends. And definitely not from strangers. I’m too damn old for that shit.”
Tad shook his head harder. “I don’t want you to hide. I swear it. I don’t. Tomorrow I’m gonna—”
“Tad,” he cut in again, face turning grave. “I know you plan on telling people. And I actually believe you mean it. But in the end, I just don’t see it happening.”
“It will happen,” Tad argued. “Tomorrow. I promise.”
“Your head’s not in it.”
“Yes,” he insisted. “Yes, it fucking is.”
“Really? After what just happened?” Dark brows pinching, Scott pointed to his temple. “How’re you gonna change so much up here in the span of one fucking day?”
Tad fidgeted anxiously, not sure how to answer.
Scott exhaled. “I don’t hold it against you, Tad. I mean it. I don’t. But I gotta respect my own limitations.” Slowly, he dragged a hand down his face, then groaned and shook his head. “I don’t think I can do this with you anymore. The waiting and the watching. You always walking away. It brings me down. Messes me up.” His head tipped back, eyes lifting to the stars. “A shy little college kid,” he chuckled. “Messing me up.”
What? Wait— what!? A cold, raw ache engulfed Tad’s being. No… No, no, no. This was all wrong. His heart stuttered up, ready to flatline. Scott was bailing. Cutting him loose. Didn’t want to do it anymore. Didn’t want him anymore.
Suddenly, it got really hard to breathe. He wanted to trap Scott in his arms so bad and plead for a little more time. Forget one day, he’d take an hour. Hell, sixty seconds to send a text. To his family. His friends. Then everything would be cool.
But as he stared at Scott’s face, all tired and sad, he couldn’t make himself do it. Just couldn’t bear to make things harder on the guy. God knew he’d already put Scott through enough. No way was he going to hand him more. Force shit down his throat that he clearly didn’t want just because Tad wasn’t happy. He refused to put his needs before Scott’s one more time. He wouldn’t do it. Not ever again.
God, he seriously couldn’t breathe. Air just wasn’t coming. Or maybe his lungs had called it quits. Fuck, how to do this? How to let Scott go? When every ounce of his freaking being was howling to make him stay.
Lightheaded, he crossed and uncrossed his arms. Dragged shaky hands through his hair. He delved them into his pockets next, then used them to clutch his nape. Like the stupid little idiots didn’t know where to go. Lost or some shit.
Kind of like him.
Shivering to the bone, he forced his body to still— then asked the one thing in the whole frickin’ world he didn’t want to know.
“So… that’s it, then? You’re throwing in the towel?”
Scott’s raw gaze lingered for a painfully long time. Then, finally, he nodded tightly. “Yeah. I am. Gotta get you outta my head.” He sighed and smiled sadly. “You make it hard to function.”
Jaw ticking wildly, Tad fought not to curse. To roll with the punches and be a big boy. But man, it was hard. Harder than hell. Harder than anything he’d ever fucking done. Because keeping his mouth shut when his chest was cracking open wasn’t an easy feat. But he’d made his bed and now he was lying in it.
Scott turned and headed back to his car with slow, measured strides, and Tad watched every one. Even when shit got blurry. Because who knew when he’d ever see him again. The guy he adored with those big, warm eyes and that crazy amazing smile.
Scott didn’t look back as he climbed into his ride. And that was okay. Tad wouldn’t’ve wanted him to see his face anyway. Not while those lyrics flowing from his speakers were hitting so close to home.
… I wish I could make it easy… easy to love me…
***
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Tad groaned, his face pinching miserably. Jay had been beating on his fucking door for ten minutes fucking straight. And still he hadn’t given up. Persistent bastard.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
“I’m not leaving, brah! Will bust this thing down if I have to!”
Goddamn it.
Snarling a stream of curses, Tad yanked his stupid worthless pillow off his pounding head. Time to beat a surfer boy’s ass. Then punt him out the window. Pitching his legs over the side of his bed, he lurched up onto his feet. Instantly, the room went merry-go-round. Tad groaned again and palmed his head.
Fuck. What time was it?
Slowly, he turned toward his bedside table. 11:48 a.m. Geez. He’d been sleeping like the frickin’ dead. Guess that was fitting since he felt like the dead…
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Tad jerked, then winced as pain lanced through his brain. “Hold your fucking horses!”
Grimace.
That hurt even worse than the moving. God, who let a jackhammer play with his skull?
Still in his jeans from the night before, he stumbled out into the hall. Should he torture Jay first before he murdered him?
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
Yes. Absolutely, yes.
Glaring switchblades, he yanked open the door. “Do you have a fucking death wish?”
Daylight instantly assailed him. Motherfuck, that hurt. His hand shot up and covered his eyes.
“Took you long enough,” Jay bitched, shoving inside. Tad frowned at the paper bag clutched in his hand. “What the hell happened to you last night? You look like shit.”
Tad scowled and gingerly shut the door. “I decided to bail while I was still cool to drive.”
Surfer boy’s lanky ass dropped on the couch. “Dick move, dude. Breck was totally offended.”
Tad rolled his eyes. “Did he even notice I left?”
“Probably… Possibly… Most likely not.” Chuckling, Jay emptied his bag onto Tad’s coffee table. A bomber of beer, two plastic Solo cups, vodka, tomato juice and… eggs.
Oh, hell. Jay’s notorious red-eye pick-me-up. Tad grimaced and eased down into his recliner. Many claimed the concoction was great for hangovers, but he wasn’t buying it. In fact, as far as he was concerned, all the stuff was good for was redirecting one’s attention from the misery in their head to the fresh hell entering their mouth.
“So,” Jay drawled, regarding Tad’s state. “What’d you do after ditching? Get wasted with your boy, Scott, instead?”
Tad stilled. “He was with his friends, remember?”
Jay leveled him with a knowing smirk. “Initially, sure. But, ironically, he disappeared right after you did. Ned said he stopped by and asked where you went, then vanished into thin air.”
Tad rubbed his sternum, memories of last night burning a hole in his chest. “He never showed back up?”
“Dunno.” Jay shrugged, unscrewing the vodka. “We hopped to another bar a couple minutes later. Breck was pretty adamant about going. And being the birthday boy…” He poured a couple ounces into each cup then looked back up at Tad. “So? You two hang out or not?”
No real point in lying about it now. “Yeah. I mean, no. I mean…” He groaned and rubbed his eyes. “He stopped by, yeah, but… didn’t stay.”
“How come?” The glugging sound of tomato juice resounded through the quiet.
Tad sighed and looked up at the ceiling. Suddenly, his heart felt heavier than lead. “I pissed him off… so he left.” He could feel another lump forming in his throat. Man, those fuckers hurt like hell.
“You? Pissing someone off? Now there’s a first.” A metal cap screwed free, followed by the sound of fizzing beer. “So? What’d you do?”
Tad’s heart shuffled restlessly in his chest. Guess he might as well spill the beans. No time like the present. Today was supposed to be the big day, anyway.
Eyes still diverted, he paced his exhale. “It wasn’t so much what I did, but what I didn’t do.”
A couple ticks of patient silence, then, “Uh, yeah… Vague much?”
Say it. Just spit it out already.
“I… didn’t own my shit… Not like I should have… About the way I feel… about him.”
There. God. Jesus. He’d finally said it.
A whole lot more quiet filled the room. And then, yeah, even more. Tad’s gaze dropped down to his lap. Wow. This awkward admission crap sucked. Thank God it was just Jay and not the whole gang. He drew in a long, deep breath… and held it.
The sound of an egg cracking finally broke the silence.
“So… you’ve got a thing for Scott?”
Tad cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah. I do.” Warily, he looked at Jay.
His friend regarded him quietly, then gave a casual shrug. “That’s cool.”
Tad blinked. “That’s cool?”
“Yeah.” Jay nodded, shrugging again. “Why not.”
Tad frowned. “That’s it?”
Jay palmed his knees and chuckled. “What were you expecting? That I’d call you a fag?”
“No… I just—”
“That I’d be pissed you didn’t tell me sooner.”
“Um… Maybe?”
Jay shrugged a third time. “Would’ve been nice, but whatever. That kinda shit’s on your timetable, not mine. Besides…” His lips quirked as he grabbed one of the cups and walked it over to Tad. “I kinda suspected as much.”
Tad’s brows shot high. “You— You did?” he sputtered, taking the drink.
Jay grinned and plopped back down on the couch. “Yeah, man. We all did.”
Tad’s eyes bugged wide. “You all did?”
Jay laughed. “Dude. We’re not blind. And —well, with the exception of Ned— we’re not stupid. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that a guy with zero interest in the ladies is batting for the other team. Though, lately, a lot more did start adding up.”
Tad frowned. “What do you mean?”
Jay shrugged. “Guess it all started with that cryptic text you sent me the night you lost to those jocks. The addy in it? I Googled it one day when I was bored. Came up with a Max and Scott something-or-others as the owners. Two dudes. Weird, but whatever. Maybe this—” He paused to make quote marks. “—chick you went home with had a couple roommates.”
Tad cleared his throat, shifting sheepishly in his seat.
Jay smirked. “But it wasn’t ‘til you introduced us to—” More punkass finger quotes. “—your friend, Scott, that I started doing the math. After all, ever since the night of that text, you’ve been acting kinda whack.” He started laughing. “Man, were you squirming something fierce standing in front of his class. Not to mention ogling the guy like his ass was a piece of steak.”
Tad groaned and rubbed his face.
“But last night, when you practically hid under our table the second Scott walked in? And then his disappearing act right after yours?” Jay nodded, grinning slyly. “That’s when I knew with almost a hundred percent certainty. My best bud, Taddy, was getting himself some dick.”
Tad’s face twisted up like he’d sucked on a lemon. “Jesus, Jay. That whole fucking sentence offends me.”
Jay laughed and kept on going. “There was something a few weeks back, though, that kinda threw me. That date with Tory. Was that shit all for show?”
Tad shuddered. “No, that was me trying to prove to myself that I was straight. God, what a nightmare.”
Jay snickered and took a swig of his drink. “I’ll hold off asking for details on that one.” Licking his lips, he set his cup down and leaned back into the cushions. “So, this business last night with Scott. You need to vent? Because you seriously do look like crap.”
Tad coughed out a laugh. Then grimaced. “Ow.”
Jay sighed in disgust and gestured to Tad’s cup. “Come on, my man. Drink up, drink up.”
Tad eyed the foul-smelling blend. “But I’m not a masochist.”
“Drink!”
Jumping, he cut his friend a glare, then pinched his nose and took a gulp. “Aw, God,” he groused. “I hate tomato juice. Almost as much as raw eggs.”
Jay rolled his eyes. “Oh, quit your crying and start fucking talking.” He motioned to Tad’s disheveled state. “You did this to yourself after he left, I take it?”
Tad nodded. Unfortunately, his attempt to self-medicate with more vodka was a total frickin’ fail. Didn’t do shit to ease the pain. It did, however, do a stellar job of knocking him on his ass. Too bad unconsciousness hadn’t lasted longer.
Surfer boy whistled low. “Damn. You got it bad for this guy.” Extending his arms along the back of the couch, his face turned thoughtful. “So, let me get this straight. You’ve been hanging out with your boy on and off since that first night, yeah?”
Again, Tad nodded.
“During which, you’ve slowly been getting accustomed to the fact that you very much like dick.”
Tad eyed him, unamused. “Yeah.”
“But he’s been into you this whole time, patiently waiting for you to grow a pair. Problem is, your little sproutlings are taking too long. So, now the dude’s pissed that you’re being such a pussy, all hiding out in the closet and shit.”
“No.” Tad scowled. “I mean, yeah. I mean—” Again, he groaned and rubbed his eyes, all this talk of Scott making him ache. “I’ve never had the intention of hiding who I am. I just… needed time to get my head on straight.”
Jay didn’t respond right away. “So, is your head on straight now?”
“Yeah. It is.”
“Then why’re you making him wait?”
Tad sighed. “Because I’d decided to tell people after Breck’s party.”
“Today. You were gonna tell us all today.”
“Yeah.”
“And Scott knew this?”
“Yeah. I told him on Tuesday. Promised him and shit.” His head dropped back against the cushion. “But I guess he wasn’t buying it. Or, I dunno, maybe it wasn’t enough.”
A few more minutes of contemplative quiet.
Finally, Jay shrugged. “So, you do what you said you’d do, then go tell the guy. Promise kept. Everyone’s happy.”
Tad shook his head. “Not that simple. Besides, he straight up said he doesn’t want it anymore. He’s done. And, dude, he meant it. The look on his face? Nails in a coffin.” And a dagger in Tad’s heart. Just thinking about it made his lungs want to seize.
Jay scoffed and stood up. “Bullshit.” Stalking into the kitchen, he yanked open a cabinet. “You can’t just turn that shit off. I know. Trust me— after my little break with Marcie… If that big fucker’s wanted you all this time, then he still fucking wants you now.” Ambling back around, he tossed something into Tad’s lap. Ah. Headache meds. “So unearth your balls, my hungover friend, and kindly remind him of this.” Standing directly in front of
Tad, he smiled a cheeky grin. “Then go have wild, monkey make-up sex. Or whatever it is you homos have.”
Tad chuffed a soft laugh, but quickly sobered. God, he wanted to take Jay’s advice, but was afraid Scott wouldn’t bite. His heart thumped anxiously, reluctant to hope.
“I dunno, man. He looked so sad. I don’t wanna go over there and make him feel worse.”
Jay pursed his lips and shook his head. “I promise you, brah. Your boy’s gonna be bummed out whether you go over there or not.” Reaching down, he grabbed Tad’s bicep and pulled him to his feet. “Now get your stinky mug in the shower. You wanna look presentable, dontcha, when you tell the world you’re in love with a dude?”
Tad blinked as Jay steered him down the hall and shoved him into his room.
In love?
Frowning, he slowly shucked off his jeans.
With Scott?
Wandering into the bathroom, he stepped into the shower and… stared at the freaking tile. His pulse hammered faster as a crazy kind of warmth filled every inch of his chest. Spreading like a balm to his aching soul. He cranked the water and tipped back his head, letting liquid heat douse his face.
God, could it be?
The reason he’d been so overwhelmed from the start?
Had, all this time, he not just been discovering himself, but also falling in love?
***
“Come on, you piece of shit light. Turn fucking green already.” Foot tapping anxiously, Tad glanced down at his cell. So bad he wanted to use the thing, to call Scott and tell him… well… God, he had no freaking clue. Which was exactly why he was showing up nice and unannounced. Sure, it was rude not calling ahead, but screw it. Not like he wasn’t already on the dude’s shit list.
Besides, after all the chitchattin’ he’d just finished doing, he kind of needed a breather before jumping back in. Car rides were nice like that. Luckily, his talk with Ned and Breck hadn’t been too bad. Pretty boy shot Coke out of his nose, but he did that a lot. And Mr. Point Guard was entirely too hungover to even care. Guess Tad wasn’t the only one who’d gone overboard last night. Bottom line, neither guy seemed overly surprised. Which, thanks to Jay’s heads up, hadn’t jarred Tad too bad.