Trent loosened his belt buckle and unbuttoned his blood-stained jeans. I helped him pull them off, and he got in the bed, dressed only in his boxers.
“Are you dizzy? Sick to your stomach?” I asked.
“Nah.”
“Stop being strong,” I snapped.
“Would you rather I cry?”
“No. Yes.” I contradicted myself. “Fuck!”
“Come here.” He lifted his arm.
My shoulders slumped a little, and I went to him. I moved gingerly on the mattress, afraid I might hurt him. He wasn’t having it, though. He pulled me into his side and anchored an arm at my waist.
“I’m sorry you had to find me like that tonight.”
I made a choked sound. “You don’t owe me an apology.”
“I think maybe I do.” The tone in his voice changed with those words. They became serious and strange… kind of shuttered like his eyes had been downstairs.
I pulled back a fraction. “What do you have to be sorry for?”
His face turned down, staring into his lap. His whispered words blew up yet another chunk of my heart.
“I’m sorry loving you isn’t enough.”
Trent
Love is patient. Love is kind.
That’s what they say.
They also say love doesn’t take; love only gives.
While those words are beautiful, they aren’t true.
Love does take.
Loving someone takes strength.
Love takes hard work.
And sometimes…
Love takes sacrifice.
I remember thinking, feeling the only thing worse than being with Drew was being without him.
I still felt that way, but tonight showed me that was selfish. Really loving someone meant loving them more than yourself, and I did.
I loved Drew so much. I loved him more than I did myself.
So this was hard. Harder than anything I’d ever known in my entire life. I didn’t know if it was right, but it was all I had left to give. Drew already had my heart. My body would never want another. I would always love him.
My love was dangerous.
So I would have to love him from afar.
It seemed the only thing left to give him was safety. A promise to put him before myself. Always.
I would take a hundred beatings for the privilege of loving him. I would withstand ridicule, prejudice, and even hate to keep him at my side.
What I wouldn’t do was ask the same of him. I would not put him in danger for the sake of my heart. Or even his heart. The thought of anyone doing anything even close to this to Drew was more than I could bear.
Society talked a good talk. They passed laws and preached to anyone who would listen. They painted rainbows as if that symbol would somehow make everything okay.
Love is love.
People are free to be who they are.
Gay love is beautiful.
I wished it were that simple. Because even though as a whole, the world wants to accept the kind of love I feel, we weren’t there yet.
I almost felt like it was the same as putting an animal in the middle of the street and saying it would be safe. Maybe it would be for some drivers, but not all.
Did that mean I let them win?
Did that mean by pushing Drew away, the only ones who lost were us?
How did I make that distinction? How did I choose my happiness over his safety?
It wasn’t so cut and dry.
Sometimes love just isn’t enough.
“What are you saying, Trent?” Drew asked, wariness in his tone.
I pulled my arm from around his waist and brushed my knuckles across the side of his face.
I’m going to miss this scruff.
“I love you,” I vowed.
“You do?” He smiled.
“Yeah. I love you with everything I got.”
Ignoring the protest in my ribs, I leaned forward and claimed his lips. I kissed him soft at first, gentle and sweet. The kiss changed the second his tongue swept across my lower lip, like he was trying to soothe the swollen flesh.
My hand fisted at the back of his head, and we deepened the kiss. Drew hesitated at first, but I wouldn’t let him pull back. I wouldn’t let him worry about if it would hurt.
I was already hurting.
From far worse pain than a busted lip.
I devoured his mouth until he ripped it away.
“You’re bleeding again.” He swiped at my bottom lip with his thumb and lifted it between us. There was red marring his skin.
“I’m sorry,” I said, for more than just the blood.
Drew wiped his finger on his shirt and then wiped at my lip again, repeating the same action.
“I love you, too,” he whispered, and I knew it was true. I felt it.
“We’re gonna deal with those bastards at Omega.” He began. “Now that the family knows, you can move in here. Things will get easier—”
“No.” I cut him off.
He pulled back, wrinkles forming in the center of his forehead. “No?”
I shook my head. “I can’t do this.” I gestured between us. “Being together isn’t going to work.”
He leapt of the bed, an incredulous look in his eyes. “The fuck do you mean we aren’t going to work?”
Just say it.
“We can’t be together. I won’t be with you.”
He laughed, a half-crazed sound. “You just told me you love me.”
“I do,” I whispered.
“Is this because of tonight?” he yelled. “Because some assholes jumped you? You’re going to let them win!”
I had no doubt the entire house could hear him yell. But I didn’t tell him to be quiet. If they heard, it would save me from having to say this twice.
“You’re a pussy!” Drew roared.
I stiffened. Everything in me revolted. “I’m a realist!” I yelled and pushed off the headboard. I jabbed my finger at him in the air. “What are you gonna do, huh?” I went on, relentless. “You gonna go to Omega and kick a bunch of ass? Show them you don’t give a flying fuck what they think?”
He started to say something, and I stood. It hurt to straighten to my full height, but I did it anyway.
“What then?” I challenged. “What happens the next time someone hates on me for loving you? What happens when it’s you lying in a parking lot instead of me?”
The last part completely drained me. I sagged forward.
Drew was there, his strong body offering support. “Sit down.” He nudged me gently. “Come on. You need to chill.”
I let him help me back into bed. I was so tired.
“Don’t ask me to do that,” I pleaded with him. “Don’t ask me to wonder every time you leave the house if you’re going to be someone’s victim. Don’t ask me to watch you get torn apart in the media for your relationship with a man.”
“We don’t know that will happen.” He tried to reason. “Emily thinks it will help my career.”
“Emily isn’t the one in love with you. I am. I’m not going to exploit the fact I fell in love with my best friend to sell magazines.”
“I don’t expect you to.”
“And I don’t expect you to lie.” I rubbed a hand over my head and made a sound. “I don’t want to sneak around. I don’t want to pretend I’m just your manager when really you’re my entire world.”
“So you’re breaking up with me?” He pulled back, hurt and pain in his expression.
I looked away. “Yeah.”
“No.”
My head shot up. “No?” I couldn’t help it. I was amused.
“I don’t accept that. I don’t break up with you.”
“You don’t have a choice.” My voice was final. My decision was made.
“If you love me as much as you say you do, then fight,” he challenged.
“This is me fighting. Fighting to keep you safe.”
“Fuck my protection!” Drew roared and shot acro
ss the room. The sound of a heavy thud and the cracking of drywall made me wince.
He yanked his arm back, pulling his fist out of the hole he just made in the wall. His knuckles were bloody.
Ignoring the blood, he stormed across the room and snatched something off his dresser. He threw it on the bed. It landed with a thud between my legs.
“Ask that,” he huffed.
I picked up the magic eight ball I’d given him. “Ask it what?”
“Ask it if we should be together. Let’s let fate decide.”
My fingers tightened around the ball. “I already did,” I said miserably.
“What?”
“You asked me before if I asked it a question.”
“You said no.”
“I lied. I asked it if we should be together. It said ‘all signs point to no.’”
He laughed, but it wasn’t with humor. “It’s a dumb toy. It doesn’t know anything.”
“Yet here we are.”
Drew’s head snapped back like I punched him. “It took me months and months and months to finally admit to myself how much I cared about you. In one week, the one goddamned week we’ve been together, I learned all those months of agony were worth it. I’d do it all again to end up here.”
My heart hurt. It felt like someone was physically ripping it in half.
“So no, Trent. No.” He went on. “We aren’t over. We’ve only just begun.”
He was beautiful. A fucking beautiful, stubborn man.
I’d love him for the rest of my life.
And then I’d love him longer.
“I’m tired.” I didn’t have to pretend to be weary. I turned my face away from him, refusing to look in his eyes.
“Trent.”
I squeezed my eyes shut against the pain in his voice.
When he realized I wasn’t going to turn back, an angry sound ripped from his chest. The door to the room banged against the wall when he flung it open and stormed out.
The second I was alone, I crumbled. My strength to push him away dissolved, and I was left lying there a bruised and broken mess.
The eight ball was still clutched in my hand, and I pulled it into my chest.
My resolve wavered. His hurt and open heart made me think I was wrong. I glanced down at the toy and blinked to clear my vision.
Ask it one more time.
One final decision.
Is this what my life had come to? Relying on a toy to decide my future?
I didn’t know what was right anymore. I was confused. Maybe it wasn’t just a toy deciding for me. Maybe it was like Drew said.
Maybe it was fate.
Fate knew what it was doing. Right?
I lifted the ball and gave it a good shake. “Should Drew and I be together?”
I turned it over in my hand so the window was facing up.
The small triangle inside bounced around and floated to the surface.
This was it.
My answer.
My fate.
The Finish Line… For Now
GearShark Issue #2 coming soon
Note from the AUTHOR
If I were asked to describe this book in one word, I would choose beautiful. To me, this book is beautiful, underneath the racing and the cars. Underneath the one-liners and the French fries.
Basically, if you lift the hood of #Junkie (Like that car analogy I slipped in there?), you will find something beautiful.
I’m going to be frank.
(And why did my mind just yell franks and beans! God. I need to get a grip.)
This book challenged me in ways no book ever has. I didn’t think I could write this book. I wanted to write it. I really wanted to.
This story wasn’t really words inside me, but a jumble of feelings. I kept saying to people (well, only a couple, because let’s face it. I sound crazy), I can feel this book inside me.
So while some books rattle around in my mind and play behind my eyes like a movie, this one was different. I felt this one deep in my heart.
Never in a million years did I think I would be wrapping up my first M/M book. I never even thought about writing a M/M book other than to think I couldn’t do it. How could I write about something I’ve never experienced?
I mean, sure, I write about lots of stuff I’ve never actually experienced, but this was different. This needed to have the depth of truth to it in an emotional way. Not a this is a fiction book kind of way.
Get what I’m saying?
So in that sense, this book challenged me as a writer as no book has before.
Trent has been with me since #Nerd. He was born in my head eight long books ago. I’ve been with him for over a year. The thing with Trent is to me, he was always kind of in the background. He was kind of mysterious. He never really showed me much of himself.
And then I figured out why.
People asked me about him and Drew. They asked if there was more than just friendship between them. At first, I was like whaaat? But then I realized. Oh. This is what he was keeping from me. This is the reason Trent has always kept himself in the background. It was almost like he was scared to come out. Even to me.
I thought about that for a while. I really thought about it. Could I do this? Could I tell Drew and Trent’s story the way it deserved to be told? I thought about all the other M/M books out there, of which I’ve read one.
That’s right. One. How could I write about something I’ve never really read about or had experience with? But they kept whispering, and those whispers literally went right into my heart.
Sometimes when I was writing, I had to press a hand to my chest. Sometimes this story hurt to tell. I feel like this is more raw and there is more angst in this book than a lot of my others.
I have no idea if this M/M book is like any others out there. I worry about that. I worry the new readers who aren’t familiar with my writing or with me will pick this up because it’s their preferred genre and it won’t be what they’re used to.
People have asked me: What books are you using as a guide for your first M/M book? They ask me what kind of research I’m doing for my first M/M book.
My answer always kind of shocks them.
I’m not. This is MY version of M/M. This is the story that was in MY heart, and these are my boys. It may not be like the rest of the books in the genre, and up until this point, I worried it wouldn’t be okay. But it is.
Because like Drew, I don’t want a label.
And like Trent, why should I go with the traditional when this book is anything but?
I’m proud of this book. I know some people won’t like it, and that’s okay. But at the end of the day, to me, this book is beautiful because it’s about two men who found love in the most unexpected place. The kind of love most people spend their whole life looking for.
And I for one can’t wait to see where they go next.
(How about that cliffhanger…?)
Don’t worry. I won’t make you wait long for Issue #2.
Thank you for reading. Thank you for giving this book a try.
See you next book.
XOXO,
Cambria
About CAMBRIA HEBERT
Cambria Hebert is an award-winning, bestselling novelist of more than twenty books. She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair.
Besides writing, Cambria loves a caramel latte, staying up late, sleeping in, and watching movies. She considers math human torture and has an irrational fear of chickens (yes, chickens). You can often find her running on the treadmill (she’d rather be eating a donut), painting her toenails (because she bites her fingernails), or walking her chorkie (the real boss of the house).
Cambria has written within the young adult and new adult genres, penning many paranormal and contemporary titles. Her favorite genre to read and write is romantic suspense. A few of her most recognized titles are: The
Hashtag Series, Text, Torch, and Tattoo.
Cambria Hebert owns and operates Cambria Hebert Books, LLC.
You can find out more about Cambria and her titles by visiting and following her here:
Website: http://www.cambriahebert.com.
Email: [email protected]
Facebook: http://smarturl.co/CambriaHebertFanpage
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#Junkie (GearShark #1) Page 28