by A. M. Arthur
“Meanwhile, I’m skin and bones. What a pair, huh?”
“Yeah.” He waited for Will to start eating before he attacked his own sandwich again. Will took small bites, chewing each one carefully before swallowing. Actions by rote to get the food down, instead of savoring every bite the way Taz did. He adored all the sharp, tangy flavors in his mouth, all the textural contrasts. “Don’t like your sandwich?”
Will shrugged. “It’s fine. It’s a sandwich.”
“You could have gotten something different if you don’t like sandwiches.”
“It’s fine. It’s food, right?” He took another small bite of pale meat, white bread, and nothing else that Taz could see. Chewed it slow. Swallowed. Almost bored with the whole thing.
Taz had never had much of a brain-to-mouth filter before the acid, and it hadn’t developed any after. “Do you have an eating disorder or something?” It came out gentle, not accusing, but Will still flinched.
Good guess.
“It was a lot worse when I was sixteen,” Will replied, not making eye contact. “After the, uh, abuse stopped. I hated eating. Took months before me and my shrink finally figured it all out, and then it started getting better. I was able to focus on food as necessary fuel, instead of something that could hurt me.” He finally looked up, his dark eyes sad. “I wish I could be the guy who scarfs down a burger and fries with his buddies then goes back for a hot fudge sundae, but I’m not. Doubt I ever will be.”
Taz eyed the other uneaten half of his sandwich, his stomach suddenly unhappy with what was in it. “I’m sorry.”
“It is what it is, right? I’ll never be a competitive eater, and you’ll never be America’s next top model.”
The instant laughter that burbled up from inside Taz surprised him, when all past teasing about his scars had always produced anger. Except Will wasn’t mocking him or pointing out his flaws. He was teasing him in a gentle way that said Will accepted they both had huge flaws, and that was okay.
“That’s good,” Taz said with a grin, “because I look awful in high heels.”
Will’s eyebrows arched. “And you know this from experience? Something I should know about, young man?”
Taz laughed again, and goddamn, it felt good. Sure, he laughed at sitcoms and funny movies, and sometimes his dad even told a good joke. This was different. This was...flirty. And a hell of a lot of fun. “No, sorry, no cross-dressing skeletons in my closet.”
“Shame.” Will licked crumbs off his fingers with a pretty pink tongue, then put about two bites’ worth of sandwich down on the waxed paper. He grabbed the pickle bag. “Speaking of closets, you came out senior year of college?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t really want to head down this particular branch of memory lane, but he could take a fast detour. “In high school, there were a few casual things, but nothing serious. Enough to know I liked guys and girls. I dated girls my first three years of college, partly because I was worried that coming out as being into guys too would affect wrestling. I had a scholarship, so I didn’t want to do anything to ruin that, you know?”
“Makes sense.” Will slid the tip of a fat pickle into his mouth and held it there.
Taz’s heart skipped. Blood pumped into his dick at the very suggestive way Will slowly bit into that fucking pickle. “Uh-huh.”
Will put more force into it, and there was an audible crunch. Juice dribbled down his chin.
Fucking Christ.
Taz grabbed a napkin and dabbed at Will’s chin.
Will’s eyes sparkled. “So what prompted you to come out?”
Had Taz been talking about something? Oh. Right. “Charlie.” The name chilled some of his arousal and left him cold. “We met sophomore year and became good friends very quickly. We were definitely attracted to each other, but I was dating someone at the time, and cheating was never my style. Junior year I got dumped, so I met up with Charlie at a party to commiserate, and we ended up back at the dorm fucking. The chemistry was great, and we wanted to keep it going, but Charlie was out and I wasn’t.”
He always hated this part of the story because it had been so fucking selfish of Taz. “He agreed to keep us a secret until I was done with wrestling senior year. He stayed in the closet for me, pretended we weren’t together even though we were. So after the team didn’t get the win for nationals, I came out. I kissed Charlie in the gym, in front of everyone.”
“Wow.” Will licked the pickle. “That was brave.”
“Seems stupid, looking back. It pissed someone off enough to throw acid on us.”
“How badly was Charlie hurt?”
“Barely. Small spot on his arm. Mostly it hit me.” Taz had been the one suffering, and Charlie had fucking walked away.
Will’s eyes went wide.
Guess I said that out loud.
“He dumped you while you were in the hospital?” Will asked. “What an asshole!” That shout got a few heads swiveling in their direction. Will didn’t seem to notice the uptick in his volume. “Who does that?”
Taz shushed him. “I loved him, but it’s not like we’d exchanged rings and vows for better or worse. He couldn’t handle the hospital and all of the local media attention, so he got out. I don’t hate him anymore.”
“That’s because you’re a decent person.”
“Maybe. He did break my heart, though. Hard.”
“Someone should go break his face.”
Taz blinked hard. “You’re a fiery little thing, aren’t you?”
Will glared. “Are you making fun of me?”
“No. I’m trying to figure you out, that’s all. I like you. Hell, you’re the first new friend I’ve made in two years.”
“Me too. I mean, I know people. But I don’t do this. Meet up and hang out. Getting personal with new people is...problematic.”
“Who are you telling?” Taz smiled, and finally Will’s face softened. “I never really thought I’d make a friend by commiserating over anxiety attacks and past violence.”
Will shrank down a bit. “I still don’t want to talk about that. My past.”
“I wasn’t asking. I made a statement, that’s all. And I’m apparently doing a shitty job of saying I’m glad we started chatting, because I like you and I like having a friend.” He might as well go for it. “Plus, you’re hella cute.”
Will’s lips twisted into a sexy, almost taunting smile. “Cute, huh? Cute like puppies are cute?”
“Cute like I want to reach over and kiss you. That cute.” Maybe he shouldn’t have been flirting so hard, but he liked Will and it felt so good to be around someone he genuinely liked—and was attracted to. Male or female, he hadn’t felt that draw in too damned long. But what if Will didn’t feel—
Will leaned in. “So kiss me, big guy.”
His heart kicked up. He took in Will’s slightly parted lips, curious how they’d feel against his own. How Will’s lean body would feel pressed up against his. What he’d taste like.
Charlie tasted like mint and chocolate, and then everything was on fire.
The world went briefly gray, and Taz’s entire body seized up tight.
* * *
Will was mentally kicking himself for flirting so hard with Taz, especially when he was on a no-sex diet for the next couple of weeks, when Taz’s already pale skin went a ghostly shade of white. His whole body seemed to go rigid, his gaze distant. Frozen someplace else.
Crap, Taz was having some kind of episode. Will replayed their conversation, trying to figure out what he’d said to freak Taz out so badly.
Kiss. Public park.
“Fuck my life.” He’d have clocked himself upside the head for being so stupid if he wasn’t afraid of someone in the park calling the cops on two nutcases sharing sandwiches on a bench. The last time Taz had kissed a guy in pub
lic he’d ended up in the hospital, and Will was all fucking casual about kissing him in a park surrounded by people.
Total strangers, and not a gymnasium full of classmates and fans who might give a solid damn about Taz’s sexuality, but still. It hadn’t made a difference to Taz’s brain.
And he didn’t know Taz well enough to bring him back from wherever he’d gone. Touching him while he was out of it might very well end in a bruise or two, and Will didn’t want that on Taz’s conscience. He definitely preferred his own active meltdowns to this quiet, frozen statue his friend had become.
He moved their trash out of the way and scooted a few inches closer on the bench. “Taz? Can you hear me? It’s Will. Taz?”
A slight flicker in Taz’s eyes. Not much, but he could work with that.
“Listen to me, okay? You’re in Wilmington. We’re in a park in the city. No one’s going to hurt you. Taz?”
Taz’s breathing sped up so fast Will nearly shoved the empty paper bag over his mouth and nose. Then Taz shook himself all over. Blinked hard several times. His skin kept that awful pallor, but he looked at Will and seemed to actually see him again. He dropped his chin to his chest and told his lap, “Fuck, Will, I’m sorry.”
Will tilted his head. “What for? It was my fault.”
“No, it’s not. It’s my stupid fucking head.”
“Hey. Hey.” He waited until Taz met his gaze, hating the misery in his green eyes. “Dude, we’re both mental cases, and maybe this is three years of therapy rubbing off on me, but I’m smart enough to recognize triggers. I shouldn’t have told you to kiss me while we’re sitting here in public.”
Taz seemed to study his face while he got his breathing under control. Some color came back to his cheeks, too. “It’s so stupid, though, to freak about a kiss. I bet I wouldn’t have if you were a girl.”
“How do you know that? Have you flirted with or kissed a girl since the—” The what? Accident was wrong, but words like assault or attack were too strong for their conversation. “Since the incident at college?”
“No.”
“So you can’t be sure if it’s specifically boy kissing that’ll trigger you. Could be any sort of public kissing or displays of affection.”
Taz frowned. “And what do you suggest I do to figure it out? Hit up a bar, flirt with a girl, and see if I freak out?”
“That wouldn’t be my first instinct, no.” Will hated the idea of Taz getting with someone else, guy or girl. But they were friends, and Taz’s dating life wasn’t his business.
Except I want it to be.
He liked Taz. A lot. When six thirty had come and gone with no Taz, Will had started to panic. Seriously panic. He’d second-guessed every part of their earlier online conversation, trying to figure out how he’d fucked up, how he’d scared Taz off. He’d cursed himself for not getting Taz’s cell number beforehand.
And just when he’d resigned himself to being stood up, he’d looked around and spotted a baseball-capped man in dark jeans and a blue band shirt, holding a plastic grocery bag. He was standing perfectly still near a garbage can, still too far to properly see his face, especially with the hat casting shadows, but something inside Will had responded to Taz. In that first moment, he’d known without a doubt that Taz was someone he wanted in his life.
Taz was tall and wonderfully soft around the middle, like someone who’d be crazy comfortable to curl up with in bed. Thick auburn curls peeked out from beneath the ball cap’s rim. And he had adorable freckles all over. His hands and up his arms. His neck and cheeks and forehead.
The scars had captured Will’s attention briefly, because he couldn’t help but see them. Taz’s left cheek and part of his chin had a bumpy, waxy look that descended onto his neck and disappeared beneath the collar of his shirt. But it wasn’t scary or awful. The scarring wouldn’t be all that noticeable if not for the lack of freckles on half of his face.
Plus he made Will laugh when so few people could.
He loved that Taz had trusted him enough to be honest about how he’d gotten the scars, and Will had hated this Charlie jerk instantly for dumping Taz when he’d needed him most. And then they’d flirted and the whole conversation went to hell, because Will was a horny idiot.
Taz dropped his head into his hands, muffling his words. “We were having such a good time, too.” He snapped back to attention. “We were, right? I mean, I was having a good time.”
Will smiled, because episode or not—”This is the most fun I’ve had with another person in forever. Period. To be honest, when I got home today and got hold of my panic attack, my first instinct was to see if you were online.”
That made Taz’s lips twitch. “Really?”
“Yes. I knew you’d understand and let me vent. I knew I’d feel better. And I meant it when I said you’re the first real friend I’ve made in pretty much forever. I don’t want to risk our friendship by flirting you into anxiety attacks, so I’ll dial it back.”
“I started it when I called you cute.”
“I made it worse by daring you to kiss me.”
“I wanted to.” Taz picked at the inseam of his jeans. “I just couldn’t stop the damned flashback.”
“Is that what happened just now? A flashback?”
“Yeah. Flashbacks are different for everyone, or so I’m told. I’m not back there reliving the attack frame by frame, or anything. I get caught up in the emotions. All the joy from being out with Charlie, then the blinding pain and fear, not really understanding what’s happening or why it hurts so much. All those feelings freeze me up and I get stuck.”
“Makes sense.”
Taz grunted. “It still sucks, though.”
“Well, I have to admit, it does bruise my ego that the very idea of kissing me sends you into an episode.” Will’s light tone and exaggerated hand gestures did their job: Taz smiled.
“Sorry to bruise your ego, then,” Taz said, laughter in his voice. His entire body seemed to relax more as they moved past the dark moment. “Tell me how to make it up to you.”
Taz was no longer a faceless name in a chat room. He was a real person Will wanted to get to know better. He was safe.
Will leaned in, heart beating a little bit faster. “Invite me back to your place.”
Chapter Three
“My place?” Just when Taz thought he’d gotten over the humiliation of his episode, a brand-new wave of it crashed down on him at the idea of Will seeing his apartment. He hadn’t cleaned up in weeks, his sink was full of dirty dishes, and the address left a lot to be desired in terms of crime rate per capita.
“Yes, your place.” Will started stuffing their leftovers into the paper bag. “It’s hot as fuck out here, the sun is starting to go down anyway, and I think we’d both feel more comfortable if we continued this in a less public setting.”
All true. “What’s wrong with your place?”
“No privacy. I can’t have visitors in my room. We’d have to chat in the living room or kitchen, and I live with five other people.”
“Damn, that’s a lot of roommates.”
Will shrugged. “I have my own room, at least.”
“Who says you can’t have people in your room, then?”
“House rules.” He stopped collecting their trash, then tilted his head a little, thinking. “I live in a halfway house. For adults with special needs.”
Special needs. Like the crippling anxiety that prevented Will from keeping a job and forcing him to collect disability. And Taz thought his deal sucked? Not that he pitied Will or would make him feel bad about it. From everything he knew about Will, the guy was trying hard every day to get better.
“Do you like it there?” Taz asked.
“It’s safe enough. The social workers are both really nice people. They help me stay on track wit
h my meds, because I hate taking them, but I’d be an even worse wreck without them. The other residents are okay. One of them is teaching me how to cook simple stuff, which is cool.” Will blew out a hard breath. “Honestly? I can’t take care of myself right now, so living alone, even if I could afford it, isn’t an option.”
Taz had mad respect for all the truth Will was spilling into his lap, trusting him not to judge his life or his limitations. He wouldn’t dare judge Will anything. Even though Will was tight-lipped about the details of his abuse, seeing the results in Will’s living conditions and mental state told him enough to know it had been damaging and horrific. Maybe Taz was better off not knowing.
“So right now my place is the only option for totally private conversations,” Taz said.
“Pretty much. Unless we, you know, locked ourselves in the bathroom of a gas station or something.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, no thanks. Although, my place isn’t much of a step up from that right now.”
“Not a housekeeper?”
“No. Never was. My college roommates usually hated me for it.”
“What if I promise your mess won’t bother me? I grew up poor and in a shit house, so believe me, I know squalor. You don’t strike me as that lazy.”
Taz grabbed those tiny details of Will’s past and held them tight, because Will pieced them out so rarely. “It’s not Hoarders bad or anything.”
Will held his hands up in surrender. “Dude, I’m not asking to go back to your apartment to fuck, okay? Promise.”
Why not? Taz kept that comment in his head. He was attracted to Will, sure, but he was also scared that giving in to that would ruin the friendship they were building. Outside of Peter, Taz didn’t have any other friends. “I didn’t think you were,” Taz said. Plus, he’d already sweat through his shirt and air-conditioning would feel really great. “Okay, let’s go.”
“Yeah?”
“Sure.”
“Great.” Will leaped up from the bench, bag in hand. “House curfew is eleven thirty.”
“Got it.” He stood, too, nerves rumbling through his belly. It had taken him a long time to walk to the park, and even though it was a little darker out and the promise of his home loomed ahead of him...yeah.