by L. A. Witt
And maybe if he ate something, he’d feel better. Except he wasn’t due at the gym for another couple of hours. So if he ate now . . . hell, he could go for a run. Maybe run until he puked, and sooner or later he’d be back to this relentless headache and he’d have to eat again.
He took another swallow of water. Maybe if he just ate enough to soothe the headache. A granola bar or something would probably do it.
And whether he could stomach the idea or not, he did need to eat something. With his training session coming up, he had no choice. He needed to get enough carbs and some protein in him, or else he’d collapse again, and he might not be as lucky as last time, when he’d dropped beside the weight rack but avoided cracking his skull on the rack or the mirror. Even if he was that lucky again, he’d have to explain to Amanda why he’d passed out, and she was liable to smack him with a dumbbell.
He left the tattoo shop long enough to get a small sandwich and an orange. It wasn’t a lot—his head was still throbbing afterward—but maybe enough to keep him conscious. As a bonus, it might even keep Amanda off his back, but he doubted it.
I could cancel.
No. I need to work out.
So, an hour later, he dragged himself to the gym, wondering when his gym bag had gotten so heavy, and changed clothes.
The minute he stepped out of the locker room, though, the jig was up—Amanda took one look at him, and stiffened. “What’s going on?”
“What?” He gestured dismissively. “Nothing. Nothing.”
“Bullshit.” She dropped her clipboard on a weight bench and folded her arms. “If it was nothing, you’d be asking me why I think there’s something going on. But you went straight to denial.” She inclined her head. “Fess up, Colin.”
He shifted his gaze away. Busted. That was always a sure sign he was fucked up—when his mind was too foggy to keep up with her psychological games.
“Go change.”
“What?” His head snapped up. “But we need to—”
“You are absolutely white, Colin Spencer.” She pointed sharply at the locker room. “Go change, and we’re going to go shove some food in your face while you tell me what’s going on.” She inclined her head. “Or I will be happy to call Shane and Dr. Wilcox so we can all sit down. Do not test me.”
He stared at her, weighing whether or not to argue.
He didn’t have the energy, though. As it was, he didn’t think he could start—never mind get through—his workout, so she was probably right. Of course she was. And there was no need to test her. She could put together a full-scale intervention in the time it took him to tie his shoes.
In the beginning, he’d resented her forceful, borderline shaming approach to calling him out on his bullshit, but as his brother had pointed out on more than one occasion, it was sometimes the only approach that worked.
“She knows you and so do I,” Shane had said after a bad couple of weeks two summers ago. “And if we don’t grab you by the shoulders and shake you, we might as well sit back and watch you starve yourself to death or literally kill yourself at the gym.” Considering they’d been having that conversation in the mental hospital where he’d spent seventy-two long hours, he was pretty sure his brother was onto something.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s go.”
* * *
At a bistro down the road, the hostess seated them in the back. The air was thick with spices and baking bread. At some point in his life, that had probably been a mouth-watering atmosphere, but today it was nauseating.
Deep down, Colin knew damn well it was his eating disorder demons talking. They always reared their ugly heads when he was depressed or stressed, and they were sure as fuck here now. And even when he knew it was those bastards talking—telling him to starve himself, to puke up anything he’d been coerced into eating, to lift, lift, lift until he couldn’t move—they were impossible to ignore.
It was easy to hate himself for being weak and letting them win, but they were stronger than most people realized. And they were really good at making him hate himself anyway.
Before they’d even looked at the menus, Amanda cut to the chase. “What’s going on?”
He kept his gaze down. No point in trying to get anything past her, so he didn’t try. “Daniel and I . . .”
Her breath hitched. “You two split up, didn’t you?”
Colin nodded.
“Why? What happened?”
He sat back in his chair and ran her through everything that had gone down. For the last few days, he’d been reliving it all over and over and over again, but repeating it out loud was fucking exhausting. Especially the part where he said, “So I ended it.”
It was over. Done. Gone.
Daniel was now an ex-boyfriend.
Fuck.
Amanda stared across the table at him. “You guys didn’t fight?”
“No. Never.”
“He wasn’t a jackass like the other guys you’ve dated in the past?”
Colin swallowed. “No.”
“And he never—”
“No. Whatever it is, no. He . . .” Colin rubbed his eyes. “He didn’t do anything.”
“So let me get this straight.” The hard edge of her voice made his stomach flip. “You’re dating an otherwise amazing guy, and because he happens to come from a family of assholes who won’t accept him for being gay, but he still thinks enough of you to introduce you to them . . . you can’t be with him?”
Sighing, Colin pressed his elbows into the table and his fingers into his throbbing temples. “It’s not that simple.”
“Well, I’ve got all night.” She emphatically folded her hands in her lap and eyed him. “Enlighten me, bruh.”
He avoided her intense scrutiny, but it wasn’t easy. She had the kind of stare a guy could feel from halfway across a room without even looking at her. Sitting across from her now, there was no escaping it.
“Here’s the thing—after seeing him with his family, I just . . . couldn’t. I’ve seen what it does to him to keep his sexuality away from them. I’ve seen how much of a toll that takes. And now that he’s keeping himself and a boyfriend away from them, it’s even worse.” Colin sighed. “How long before he starts resenting me for being a wedge between him and his—”
“You’re not the wedge!” She threw up her hands. “Honey child, his homophobic religious wingnut parents are the wedge.”
“And they’re still his parents,” Colin snapped.
Amanda drew back.
“Sorry.” He folded and refolded his hands on top of his untouched menu. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. But, seriously—they’re the problem. You’re probably the best thing that’s happened to him in a long time.”
Colin raised an eyebrow.
“Not joking,” she said.
“Maybe not, but at the end of the day, he loves them.” Colin swallowed hard. “For better or worse, they’re the only family he’s ever had. And after being with them, it’s obvious he doesn’t want to lose them.” He cleared his throat. “And that being with me puts a strain on his relationship with them.”
“Did you decide that? Or did he?”
Colin didn’t answer.
She leaned forward, folding her arms on the edge of the table. “Maybe you should let him make that decision.”
Wasn’t that what Daniel said?
“Maybe you’re right. But . . .” He stared at the table. “With the way I already feel about him, I don’t want to stick around, fall even harder for him, and then have to walk away when he finally picks his family over his fucked-up ex–porn star boyfriend who can’t handle a simple thing like eating.”
Amanda groaned. “Jesus, honey. Do you hear yourself?” She didn’t give him a chance to answer. “Colin, look at me. Look in my eyes.” When he met her gaze, she stared right back at him. “All that shit you think about yourself? That came from people who aren’t in your life anymore. And why aren’t they in your life anymore?”
“Exactly. And I know it’s easier said than done to ignore their poison. I know. Believe me, I know.” She squeezed his arm. Her hands were small, but they were strong, and her fingers dug into his skin. “But all that poison they put in your head is wrong. Those demons? They lie.”
This time, he did look away, sighing heavily. He couldn’t argue with her. God knew they’d been down this road before. This wasn’t the first time his mental downward spiral had brought out her tough love, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.
“Colin.” Her voice was soft now. “Why are you so good at kicking terrible people out of your life, but so terrible at letting the good people in?”
Colin rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know if I’d say I’m good at it. It took me way too long to kick my ex to the curb.”
“But you didn’t wait that long to boot Daniel out, which is exactly my point.”
He scowled, avoiding her gaze.
“I know you’re protecting yourself,” Amanda said. “I get it. Really. But at some point, after you’ve been building walls around yourself for a while, it stops being protection and becomes a tomb. No one’s getting in and you’re not getting out. And I mean, you’ve been through hell and back, and I know you think you came out weak and damaged, but you didn’t. You’ve pulled yourself together when I would have just laid down and given up.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” he said.
“Trust me, honey. And the thing is, you made it through the worst of it. I know you sometimes think you’re just a husk of the guy you were before that asshole ex got ahold of you, but you’re not. In fact, who you are now is the most amazing fuck you to him. He tried to break you, and all he did was leave a few dents.”
Colin watched himself play with the edge of his still unopened menu.
“You’re a good guy,” Amanda continued. “I have at least a dozen friends I’d have set you up with ages ago if you were straight, and you know damn well I don’t set my friends up with just anybody.”
He eyed her, not quite sure he believed her.
“I mean it,” she said softly. “And I would be willing to bet money Daniel knows exactly how lucky he is to have you. You said you didn’t want him to get hurt, right?”
He nodded, his throat tightening, and he managed to whisper, “It’s the last thing I want.”
“Then call him and unhurt him.”
“What about his family?”
“Let him decide that,” she said. “And yes, it might be stressful as fuck to hide you from them, but just the fact that he has you is going to make that worth it.”
“So what do I do?” Colin rubbed his stiff neck. “Call him and tell him I changed my mind? I’m totally fine with stressing him out until his family falls apart?”
Amanda’s lips thinned. “Maybe start with apologizing for dumping him, and telling him you’ll be there for him no matter what happens with his family.”
He lowered his hand as he gnawed his lip.
“Just reach out to him, sweetie. There’s no guarantee he’ll take you back, but if he’s got a brain in his goddamn head, I’m pretty sure he will.”
Colin laughed dryly. “Or else, right?”
“Nope.” She showed her palms. “All I do is force you to deal with your emotions and eat once in a while. What Daniel does is up to him.” She paused as she put her hands down. “Though if he ever decides to be a dick to you, he may have to deal with me.”
“Of course he will.”
“Now.” She reached across the table and patted his arm. “I’m going to go hit the ladies’ room, and then we’ll order some food. Okay?”
He nodded.
While she was gone, he took out his phone. She was right, after all. He’d fucked up, and at the very least, he owed Daniel an apology. Whatever happened next was up to Daniel.
With his heart in his throat, he wrote out a brief message, and quickly hit Send before he could talk himself out of it.
Then he did the only thing he could do.
He waited.
Chapter 30
So it was over. Somehow, even though everything had been perfect, it was just . . . gone. Over.
And of course, more than ever, Daniel couldn’t get Colin out of his mind. He’d convinced himself that there was no way Colin could occupy more of his brain, but now that they’d broken up . . . whoa.
It was more than just the shock of Colin suddenly kicking him to the curb. Thinking about Colin made him physically hurt. He couldn’t focus on his job. He couldn’t sleep. Someone had replaced his muscles with sandbags.
Every time he couldn’t eat, he thought about Colin and wondered how this was affecting him. Or if it was affecting him. Or if it had been worse before they’d split up. God, had their relationship been stressing Colin out that much? Triggering his eating disorder?
He obsessed over whether Colin had gained or lost any weight while they were together. Especially toward the end. It wasn’t a matter of Colin’s attractiveness changing, but were there signs Daniel should’ve noticed? Should he have—
“Hey! Moore!”
He shook himself back into the present, looking down at the manual spread across his lap and the tools and wires laid out in front of him. And, to his left, his boss glaring down at him. “Uh. Hey.” He sat up, nearly dropping the manual. “I—”
“You gonna finish that shit before end of shift?” his boss demanded.
Finish . . . what?
He scanned over everything in front of him, and remembered he was supposed to be calibrating his equipment. The auditor was coming next week, and everything had to be up to snuff even though they wouldn’t be working on any aircraft anytime soon. Typical military logic.
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll have it done before—”
“I fucking hope so.” His boss stabbed a finger at him. “I catch you staring off into space again back here, and we’re gonna have a one-way conversation. Am I clear?”
“Yes, Petty Officer.”
“Good.”
His boss left, and Daniel exhaled. “Fuck.” He pressed his fingers into the bridge of his nose. This was ridiculous. He needed to get his shit together. He had a job to do. Spacing out while working on this could not only cause equipment problems, it was liable to get him zapped. And he really, really didn’t want to spend another evening in medical while the docs made absolutely sure he hadn’t fucked up his heart.
Besides, he did have a damn good work ethic. Spacing out on the job was not him. Not at all.
But his mind was elsewhere. There were things he needed to deal with on shore that were keeping his focus anywhere but here.
I need to talk to Colin. I need him to know I’m not going to hide him anymore.
His stomach lurched.
But if I don’t hide him . . .
He closed his eyes and pushed out a long, ragged breath. Okay. It was settled. He knew what he had to do. He was sick to his stomach just thinking about it, but he knew what needed to be done. He needed to make a call before he lost his fucking mind.
Of course, he was on shift, and anyway, this deep in the ship, his phone would never work. He’d have to wait until end of shift when he could go down to the pier and get a signal.
And in the meantime, he had some equipment to fix.
* * *
As soon as his shift was over, Daniel left the ship and went down to find a spot near the end of the pier where no one was milling around. Not within earshot, at least. Then he pulled out his phone. There was an unread text, and he did a double take.
Colin.
He was tempted to read it, but no. That had to wait. There was something he needed to take care of first, and he needed to do it right now before he lost his nerve.
So he swiped past the text message and opened up Skype. His heart was in his throat before he’d even initiated the call. Now that the call was connecting, he wondered if h
e’d make it through without throwing up. Or just choking and shutting down. The odds were pretty even at this point.
I have to. There’s no way in hell I’m going to work up the courage twice.
Not that he was entirely convinced he’d worked up the courage once. There was still plenty of opportunity to bail.
On the screen, the call connected, and a second later, his mom appeared. She was sitting on the sofa, and she smiled at him. “Hi, honey. This is a surprise.”
“Yeah, I . . .” Daniel hesitated. “Is Dad around?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “He’s in the other room. Should I get him?”
He nodded. “I need to talk to both of you.”
Her spine straightened. “Okay. Is something wrong?”
Daniel tamped down his nerves. “Could you just get Dad?”
Mom hesitated, but then got up. She disappeared from the screen for a moment.
Come on, come on. Hurry up.
I can do this.
Fuck, I’m scared. I’m—
Mom came back into the frame with Dad was on her heels.
“Hey, kiddo,” he said as they sat down. “What’s going on?”
“Well.” Daniel cleared his throat. “See, I . . . there’s this . . .” Come on. String a sentence together. You can do this. He coughed again and took a deep breath. “So, when you guys were here . . .” He didn’t know how to finish the sentence. “It’s about Colin. The guy you met. With the tattoos.”
His parents bristled at the mention of Colin, and exchanged uneasy glances.
“What about him?” Dad asked cautiously.
“Um.” Blood pounded in Daniel’s ears. “You were right about him. He’s . . . he’s gay.”
“Oh,” Mom said. She and Dad glanced at each other again. Her voice held a note of suspicion when she spoke again. “Why are you telling us this? Do you need help with ministering to him? Because we can—”
“No. No, it’s not that.” He chewed his lip. “I’m telling you because he . . .” Shit. This was so much easier in his mind, and even then it had been hard as hell.
“Daniel,” Dad said. “What’s going on?”