Tied to Trouble (Gamers)

by Megan Erickson

  Chad looked up, into the kind eyes of his coworker and a guy he now called a friend. He knew his lip was trembling, and his face was red. And all he did was shake his head.

  Ace’s face fell, and he stepped forward, pulling Chad into an embrace. And Chad rested his head on Ace’s lotioned-up shoulder and held on. “I was so stupid, Ace,” he muttered. “I was stupid for not telling him.”

  “The guy in the glasses and bow tie?”

  Chad squeezed his eyes shut and nodded.

  Ace rubbed his back. “Just take a breather, man, then explain. I saw his face. He cares about you.”

  Chad pulled out of the hug and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Nah, I blew it. I said some really shitty things to him. It’s over before it even really began.”

  He should have called Owen back before he left the bathroom, he should have tried to fix this. But when he’d seen Owen at that table, the anger he felt had surprised him. Scared him. If that was how he’d feel once he committed himself to a real relationship, then maybe it wasn’t worth it. When things got tough, he bailed. He’d never regretted it before. So why did he want to throw up now? And why was this weird unsettling feeling making his chest tight?

  “Go home. I’ll talk to Braxton,” Ace said.

  Chad sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry.”

  He reached out his hand, and Ace shook it with a small smile. “You’re good people, Ace.”

  “You are, too, Rod.”

  Chad managed a weak smile before he walked past Ace and out the door.

  …

  He slept in on Sunday and finally hauled his ass out of bed close to noon. Thinking about the previous night only caused a riot of conflicting emotions, so he told himself not to think about it at all. That always worked before.

  Except something told him that ignoring this would be the biggest regret of his life.

  There was a knock on his door while he sat on his couch in sweatpants, playing Aric’s Revenge. He glanced at the clock, blinking until his brain registered it was five in the evening. At least he’d showered the night before when he got home, but he knew he still looked like shit.

  He considered not answering it until a voice cut through the door. “Your bike is out there, I know you’re home. Let me in, dickhead.”

  He swung open the door and glared.

  Marley wore a pair of yoga pants, sneakers, and an oversize workout shirt. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy knot. Chad raised his eyebrows. “Pretending to work out again?”

  “Shut up. I was going to go, but then I saw there was a sale at your favorite deli, so I got us sandwiches.” She held up a paper bag with a grin.

  He rolled his eyes. “You had no intention of working out. You just like matching workout clothes.”

  “Who doesn’t?” she said, brushing past him into his apartment. She dropped the food on the coffee table, toed off her sneakers, and huddled into the corner of the couch. “I just got back from my trip this morning. What’s with the hobo look?”

  “It’s the Sabbath. A day of rest.”

  “You’re an atheist.”

  “Agnostic,” he corrected, picking up his controller to resume setting fire to the rest of the village.

  She watched him free play as one of Aric’s dragons—a patch that was nothing short of brilliant—until she reached for a sandwich. “Okay, turn it off.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m doing important things here, like burning peasants.”

  “Chad.”

  He sighed and shut it off. He eyed the Reuben that Marley had laid out for him, but he really wasn’t that hungry.

  “What’s going on? Anything new with that guy you were seeing?”

  Chad fingered the wrapper to his sandwich. He wasn’t sure where to start. He’d spent all day not thinking about Owen and instead thinking about school and how it was a pipe dream. He should stick to what he knew and not try to reach for what was clearly beyond him.

  “Okay.” Marley stood up. “I’m going to get a drink from the kitchen. You figure out how to talk again by the time I get back.”

  He flipped her the finger as she walked away.

  She didn’t even turn around. “I know you are either flipping me off or making a face. Knock it off.”

  “Love you,” he said snidely.

  He waited as she rummaged in the kitchen, opening up the fridge and cabinets. When she came back, she had a glass of water in one hand and an envelope in another.

  She slapped the envelope down in front of him. “What’s that?”

  He blinked at it. It was an information packet from William Penn he’d requested. “Um.”

  Marley sank down on the couch. “Are you actually considering going back to school?”

  He’d talked to her about going to school for graphic design once or twice, but he’d never gone further than just talking about it. Even just requesting information was a big step.

  But right now, looking at the envelope, he wanted to hurl. “No.”

  Marley’s eyebrows dipped. “But then what’s that?”

  “Must have sent it to the wrong person.”

  “It has your name and address and there’s a stamp on it that says, ‘Requested Materials.’”

  He didn’t know how to answer that.

  “Chad?”

  He heaved a sigh. “Look, I was thinking about it, okay? I was. But now it just seems so hard and unattainable and just something dumb to try to impress that guy I had no business impressing.”

  Marley didn’t speak for a while. Then she set her water down and reached for his hand. “Talk to me.”

  He did. In halting, short bursts of words and tangents, he talked about wanting to go back to school and then becoming more passionate about it because he wanted to prove to a man that he had something going for him. He didn’t tell her who the guy was, because he didn’t want to make Owen’s job uncomfortable. But he told her about wanting money, and working at the Peach Pit, and his guy finding him there.

  And then the fight.

  By the end, Chad was sniffling and feeling like a total dumbass, and he just wanted to crawl back into bed.

  Her eyes were wide and a little wet as she stared at him. “Wow, you really like this guy. Are you going to tell me who he is?”

  He waved a hand. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “Of course it matters. You both said things you didn’t mean. That can still be fixed.”

  “I don’t think so. He was really pushy about me going back to school, probably so he wouldn’t be embarrassed to be with me.”

  “Are you sure? Maybe he was just trying to be encouraging.”

  Chad pressed his lips together.

  Marley’s eyes narrowed. “Now you’re just being stubborn. We all make mistakes in relationships, and it’s how we communicate after that determines if it’s something worth holding on to.”

  Looking away, Chad nibbled his lip. His sister was right. As usual. So was Owen worth holding on to?

  She reached for the envelope and opened it up, then paged through the forms and brochures. Finally she looked at him. “You know I’m proud of you just the way you are, right?”

  He nodded.

  She held up the papers and shook them. “But if this makes you more proud of who you are, then do it for yourself. Not for me or him or anyone. Take everyone but yourself out of the equation. And if you still want this, then do it.”

  She dropped them on the table, and Chad tentatively reached out a hand to a postcard that was a picture of the famous fountain on the campus of William Penn. He picked it up and flicked the thick paper in his fingers.

  He thought about his bedroom walls, plastered with drawings. His bursting file on his computer. The Dapper Dick.

  He thought about doing something he loved, every day, and getting paid for it. He thought about having that degree on his wall and being able to point to it and say, I did that.
<
br />   “I do want it for me,” he said softly.

  Marley sighed. “If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.”

  Not accepting help like a stubborn asshole was how he got into this mess. So he smiled at his sister. “Yeah, okay, I’ll let you know.”

  “Uh”—she winced—“if I may make one suggestion, you can start with opening up a new email account with something more professional than chadtothebone.”

  Chad reared back with a hand to his chest in mock outrage. “Chadtothebone is a classic! How dare you?”

  “Chad—”

  He dropped the act and sighed. “You’re probably right.”

  “I’m very right.”

  “Tomorrow I’ll make a new account with something boring like”—he shuddered—“just my name.”

  Marley sniffed and wiped away an imaginary tear. “My almost thirty-year-old brother is growing up.”

  He laughed. “Took me long enough.”

  “Hey,” she said softly. “I think this is exactly the right time. Don’t you?”

  She was right, like she always was. He finally had it in him to get serious. Now was the time. So he smiled at her and nodded.

  She smiled back. Then they ate their sandwiches and burned more villages and took a dragon for a swim in the ocean.

  And even though half of Chad was eager to take the next step in his life, he needed to wallow in this moment for a while. He wasn’t ready to move into the next chapter of his life that didn’t include Owen. Especially because Owen was one of the biggest reasons he felt he was ready for the next chapter.

  …

  Owen hated that he cared so much.

  He hated that even though Chad had never been in his apartment, he saw him everywhere he looked. The bow ties in his closet reminded him of Chad. His bookshelves reminded him of the time they organized Chad’s books. His couch reminded him of the night Chad had fallen asleep on his lap.

  He was in Owen’s head and heart and damn it, he had fallen for the wrong guy. Fallen for Chad’s laugh and his spontaneity and his love of life.

  He’d wanted Chad to feel wanted, and instead he’d smothered him.

  He tugged on his tie—not a bow tie—and made a frustrated sound in his throat when the knot looked lumpy and crooked.

  It was Monday, and he had to get to work. Marley would be back from her trip, and he’d have to face the sister of the man he’d fallen for.

  He might have to sneak into Marley’s office and somehow change out that photo of Chad, because he wasn’t sure if he could concentrate staring at it.

  He tugged off his tie and threw it on the bed with a grunt. He’d go tie-less today.

  He drove to work, going faster than he should. He found himself smiling at the memory of Chad calling him Turtle Toyota. It was drizzling, and he wondered if Chad was out and about on his bike. If he was safe. If he was wearing a helmet in these conditions.

  “Stop it,” he chided himself, banging his hand on the steering wheel.

  It was no use. He still checked his mirrors frequently for a sign of that bike, for Chad’s dark hair and that leather jacket.

  By the time he pulled into the parking lot at work, he knew he needed another cup of coffee, pronto. Or a drink. Or maybe a spiked coffee. Kill two birds with one stone.

  Instead, he made a beeline for the Keurig machine in the lunchroom and made himself a cup of dark roast.

  It was early, and most of the employees weren’t there yet. As Owen picked up his cup and inhaled the aroma, heels clicked on the floor. Marley walked toward him, smiling. “Ah, you got the right idea. Coffee.” She crossed her eyes and held out her hands in front of her like Frankenstein’s monster.

  Owen huffed a laugh into the steam wafting from his mug. “Late night?”

  Marley shrugged as she made her coffee. “Not really, just didn’t sleep well.”

  “Any reason?”

  Coffee made, Marley picked it up and blew into her mug. “Just worried about my brother.”

  Owen was proud of himself that he didn’t drop his mug. In Chad’s anger, had he told Marley about them? And more importantly, was Chad all right?

  He blinked at his boss and licked his dry lips. “Uh, is something wrong?”

  Marley set her mug on the counter and leaned on it. “He’s going through some stuff, personal and professional. And I think he’s okay, but I’m still worried about him. My little brother got his heart broken, and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him like this.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t even be telling you this. I’m sorry.”

  Owen swallowed, wishing he could hear more, but also not wanting to know. A couple of days ago, he’d been in Chad’s inner circle—or at least, he thought he was.

  And now he was nothing. It was like they’d never happened.

  Owen blinked, wishing again he could call Chad and reach out. He hated that despite it all, he still ached to hear Chad’s voice.

  But instead he stared at the black pool of liquid in his mug and said softly, “It’s all right. I know you two are close.”

  “I just want him to be happy.”

  “He is a happy guy, isn’t he?”

  Marley bit her lip and stared across the room. “He is. But I think he’s starting to find the things that made him happy in the past don’t make him as happy as they used to.”

  Owen didn’t know what that meant. Then Marley straightened from the counter and stared at him. “So, the meeting went okay on Saturday? Grant said he was really impressed with you.”

  Owen swallowed. After his blowup with Chad in the strip club bathroom, he’d managed to return to the table. Maybe it was his disheveled appearance, but Cary and Monica were understanding when he begged off early. Monica texted him later to tell him they made it back to their hotel okay.

  And Owen had spent Sunday cleaning his apartment. And his fish tank.

  Of course, he wasn’t going to tell Marley all of that. “Yes, it was a good meeting. Does Grant think they’ll contract with us?”

  “He’s optimistic. Said he likes your style and wants you along on more meetings.”

  “Okay then.”

  Marley smiled. “You did good, buddy.” She picked up her mug and made her way to the door. “Now get to work!”

  Owen stood for a while by himself, staring at the opposite wall. He should be happy, because that was what he’d wanted all along—to matter to the company, to the higher-ups. To Grant. And now he did, and yet…he wasn’t as excited as he thought he should be.

  Owen had spent some time in Chad’s spotlight, and he missed it. He missed it with an ache he wasn’t sure he’d ever get rid of. He wanted to matter to his company, and he wanted to matter to a man he loved. Was it too much to want it all?

  …

  Chad checked his phone as soon as he left the building of Nixon Design, where he’d just had an interview. In his in-box there was an email from Austin with a detailed itinerary for Saturday—aka D-Day, aka the Day Marley Gets Engaged.

  Even though the planning of this party had wreaked havoc on his heart in the form of a bow-tied geek, he was glad to have been a part of it. Marley was going to love it all.

  Chad answered the email with a smiley face, mainly because Austin seemed to hate emoticons, and then glanced over his shoulder at Nixon Design before continuing down the wide sidewalk of the main street of Willow Park.

  It’d been almost two weeks since that night at the strip club. Chad had given himself one month—until the next ladies’ night—to find another way to fund school. If he couldn’t find anything, then he’d talk to Braxton about being a regular at the Peach Pit. It was good money, even if it wasn’t his favorite thing to do and brought back old memories.

  But he was determined to find a way to go to school. No more wallowing and giving up when things got hard. He was going after his dream. He still wanted to give up sometimes, but the last time he gave up, he lost Owen.

  And he sure as hell didn’t want to fuc
k up like that again.

  So he’d had an interview at Nixon Design. Their entry-level positions, which paid kinda crap, would give him a stipend for further education. He’d showed them his portfolio, and they were impressed. So if he got that job, he’d work his ass off there, get his degree, then hopefully move up in the company once he had better training.

  It was something, at least, and he’d finish his degree with real-world experience.

  He hiked his bag on his shoulder and kept his head down, thinking he needed to get a haircut because it kept getting in his eyes.

  He blinked and tossed his head, noticing out of the corner of his eye a neon sign for a bike supply shop. He stopped, staring in the window at a set of mannequins wearing helmets.

  He took a step closer, eyeing one that was all black with a green stripe along the top. The color made him smile and think of the bow tie he had tucked in his drawer at home that he couldn’t bring himself to throw away.

  You don’t even care about your own well-being. Why did I think you’d care about mine?

  His smile faded, but he didn’t take his eyes off the helmet.

  He’d overreacted to Owen trying to help. Way overreacted. It’d been a long time since he’d had a lover that gave a shit—about what Chad did, about his future, about his happiness. About whether he wore a helmet.

  Two weeks’ perspective had Chad thinking that Owen hadn’t tried to smother him—he’d just been supportive. Like a real, caring boyfriend.

  He missed Owen. He missed him so fucking bad, he couldn’t stand it sometimes. He missed feeling wanted and he missed wanting. Wanting Owen and his tender smile. He’d been so angry at the club and had said so many things he didn’t mean. But that anger was fleeting. It had faded, and in its place was just sadness. And regret. Owen was worth the complications and the unsettling feelings. He was worth the work. He was worth the commitment.

  He was worth it all. And Chad had thrown it away because he’d been scared.

  Chad took a deep breath and let it out, then opened the door of the bike shop. A woman behind the counter looked up from the magazine she was reading. She smacked her gum and brushed her red hair out of her face. “Can I help you?”