Depth of Field (Last Chance Book 1)

by Riley Hart

  “It doesn’t matter what you meant. It happened. I don’t know what I was thinking. We have too much hate tied to our past for us to ever be together.”

  It was as though he was stabbed again, the knife twisted for good measure. “Are you going to let me explain?” he asked. Because if the situation was reversed, he never would have come at Shane accusing without getting all the details. He would have always trusted Shane first. But in Shane’s defense, Shane had never hurt him. Van had hurt Shane and maybe this was destined to happen. It had been too easy, the forgiveness and moving on. Shane was freaking out, yes, likely about more than Caleb, because they had so much damn history.

  “I don’t think there’s much to explain. I thought I could do this and I can’t.”

  “Fine.” The word ripped out of his throat, broken and painful. “I’ve never claimed to be perfect. I know I fucked up in the past, but don’t put this on me. You’re not doing this because of Caleb. You’re afraid and you’re running. That’s all this is. And for the record, I never hated you or Caleb. The only people I hated were myself and my father.”

  He waited. Hoped Shane would ask for his side. Hoped this was some misunderstanding, because Shane had it all wrong, but the truth was, he thought Shane should know him better than that by now. He should take the time to hear Van’s side before jumping to conclusions.

  But Shane didn’t reply. He didn’t ask. He hung up the phone.

  “Fuck.” Van squeezed his cell in his hand, fighting himself so he didn’t throw it across the room. He’d done a lot of bad shit in his life and this is what came back to hurt him the most? Something he was still a little confused on?

  Was Shane saying he and Caleb had been together? Just friends? It was all a big clusterfuck he couldn’t make sense of.

  As much as he wanted to call Shane back, explain his side, do whatever the fuck he could to get the man he loved, Van didn’t. Because if it wasn’t this, it would be something else. Until Shane found a way not to be afraid to live his life, all it would take was one small thing to set about the destruction of their relationship.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Shane sat on the deck, waiting to go to his mom’s for dinner. He’d spent the last couple weeks working, sitting out here, or visiting with her. She’d had a pretty major panic attack a couple days earlier and he’d had to rush home from work. She spent all day in bed. Sometimes they wiped her out like that. They often came out of nowhere like this one, too. It was hard to make sense of sometimes, how your mind did that. How there wasn’t always a reason, but he’d learned over the years there wasn’t. It was just the reality of their lives.

  He finished his beer and tossed the bottle in the recycle bin. Shane stalled, going inside and cleaning off the counters that didn’t need to be cleaned, because the truth was, he didn’t want to go over there.

  What the fuck was wrong with him that he didn’t want to go have dinner with his own mom?

  He was all she had.

  And now she was all he had too.

  Shane pushed away from the counter and went for the door. Standing here wouldn’t change anything. He’d still go even though he knew if he called her and told her he was tired, she’d understand.

  He made the quick walk across the property and went straight for the back door. “My stomach is growling. I can’t wait for your famous enchiladas,” he said as he walked in the door. He sounded normal. Happy. He was good at pretending.

  “Hey, you.” She smiled at him from the table where she had her laptop in front of her. She closed it and added, “How are you today?”

  “Good. Shop was busy, which is always nice. Makes the day go fast.” He washed his hands even though he didn’t need to. “Are you feeling better today?”

  “I am. Resting helped yesterday. That was…that was a bad one. I’m sorry I called.”

  “You’re supposed to call.”

  “Am I?” she asked and Shane frowned.

  “Of course, you are. That’s what family is for. Why do you ask that?”

  She waved him off. “Nothing. It’s fine. I think dinner is done.”

  She stood and moved her laptop off the table.

  “I’ll help.” Shane got plates and silverware out while his mom pulled the enchiladas from the oven. They were perfectly browned and cheesy, yet he didn’t feel like eating. “They look great.”

  “Thank you.”

  The two of them made their plates and then sat at the table to eat the way they’d done a thousand times before. They talked about the weather and a medication her doctor mentioned they might want to try and the weeds that were growing in the flowerbeds.

  They washed dishes together and Shane cleaned counters again before she pulled her puzzle out and set it on the table.

  Shane sat next to her at the table, watching while she fit pieces in. His heart clenched and his chest ached like someone had taken a goddamn sledgehammer to it.

  This was their lives. This is what their lives would always be. Especially for her. How fucking unfair was that? What the hell had either of them done to deserve this?

  As though she could sense his unease, she stopped, looked over at him and nodded her head. Shane didn’t speak, just watched her watch him. Her eyes narrowed into small slits, crow’s feet deepening as she took him in. As she tried to figure him out.

  “Talk to me, Shaney. I used to think you talked to me but I see now that you never really did. You’ve been good at giving the illusion that everything is fine, but it’s not. It hasn’t been for a long time, has it?”

  He shook his head. That was the last thing he felt like doing. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “Did you call it off with Van?”

  He fought to school his features. Fought not to show how much just hearing those words ate through his heart like acid. “He lives in California. I live here. It was only a matter of time.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “I thought you wanted me with Ryan?” he asked, trying to make a joke out of it.

  “I wanted you to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, even though I’ve done a horrible job of that.”

  Shane wanted to lock down his heart. Wanted to reinforce the walls, but he felt them begin to crack. He was scared he would start to resent her. Scared that the two of them would always be alone. “Nothing we live with is your fault.” How could he blame her for something she couldn’t control? Something that made her brain work a little differently?

  “Yes and no,” she answered softly. “Letting you take responsibility is my fault.”

  “You’re my mom. My family. I’m supposed to take care of you.”

  “No, Shane.” She reached over and touched his hand. “I’m supposed to take care of you. Of myself. You go outside when you want or take a drive when you want. You work every day and go fishing, so I let myself believe it was okay. I didn’t let myself see that you’re trapped too. You’re in the same chains I am and you’ll never let yourself break free, because your heart is too big for that. You’d rather keep yourself locked away rather than feel like you’re abandoning me.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut. Fought to steady his own breathing.

  “You’re not him,” she said. “You’re not your father.”

  No, no he wasn’t. He wouldn’t let himself be. Still. “You’re giving me too much credit, Mom.” He’d walked away from Van before Van could walk away from him. He used his mom for an excuse not to take a risk, because the thought of failing, scared the shit out of him.

  “No, I don’t think I am. I spoke with my doctor about in-home care.”

  Shane’s eyes snapped up at that. “You don’t need a stranger taking care of you.”

  “No, but I could have a stranger help me take care of myself. And they wouldn’t be a stranger for long. That’s not all I’m doing.”

  She stood, grabbed her laptop and opened it. “This is an intensive therapy program. It’s in-patient for sixty days—”

 
“What? No. You don’t need to be locked up.” Panic clutched at him.

  “I’m already locked up, Shaney. I’ve been locked in my head for too long. I’m doing this with or without your support. It might help, it might not, but I’m tired of keeping the status quo. I’m tired of not trying. Who knows, maybe I could go see Van in LA sometime.”

  His heart clenched at the name.

  “I’m ready to fight. Watching you fall in love, seeing happiness at the tip of your fingers made me want more for myself too. Now, you just have to ask yourself, if you’re going to fight for that happiness too, Shane.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  As Van rode the elevator to his floor, he rolled the sleeves up on his white dress shirt. He hated wearing this shit. It wasn’t his thing, but he’d had a meeting about an exhibit and, well, shit, he was likely just a glutton for punishment. He’d been torturing himself in one way or another since he and Shane broke up a few weeks back.

  To call or not to call?

  But would it do any good? No one could make Shane see anything he didn’t want to see. You couldn’t love people into that, no matter how much you loved them. And he did, he loved Shane so much he fucking ached with it.

  Van unbuttoned the collar just as the elevator doors dinged. He stepped into the hallway and got partway down when he saw a box sitting in front of his door.

  Huh. That was weird.

  He picked it up, didn’t study it too much. He unlocked the door, finished unbuttoning his shirt and left it hanging open. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and drank half of it down as he walked to the table, pushed the package aside and opened his laptop. Van spent a little time answering emails and editing some images. He made a few phone calls, ignored one from Ian because he didn’t want to hear his friend tell him to snap out of his broken heart. He didn’t want to snap out of it, damn it.

  He’d been home a little over an hour before he eyed the box again. That was when he saw it, the small sticker on the side of the box that read, “Last Chance Collectibles.”

  What the fuck?

  He raced to the kitchen, found a knife and then went back to the table and opened the box.

  Van’s hands shook as he pulled out the Styrofoam case. He used the knife on the tape and pulled the two halves apart. “Jesus fucking Christ, Shane,” he whispered softly.

  It was a blown glass figure about twelve inches long—two bodies, both male, lying together, wrapped around each other in a kiss. It looked like a scene from the night they’d recorded themselves when Shane was there. Beneath the bodies, instead of a bed, was a heart.

  “Oh fuck.” Jesus this man did a number on him. His heart rattled in his chest and his palms went sweaty. He knew what this was. Shane was giving Van his heart.

  With shaky hands, he set Shane’s gift on the table and looked in the box. There was a flash drive inside. Immediately he stuck it in the computer and clicked play. He wasn’t sure if he wanted this to be a video of Shane jerking off for him or not.

  “I feel stupid doing this.” Shane sat on the deck outside of his house. “Maybe I shouldn’t have done it this way? I don’t know. Felt fitting for us, ya know?”

  Yeah, yeah he did.

  “You’re right. I’m a coward. I’ve always been a coward. It was easier not to try, or to pretend my fear was because of my mom or my dad or whatever the fuck reason I could think of so I didn’t get hurt. People leave, Van. My dad, Caleb, even you. It wasn’t me you left, and I know why you did, but I wasn’t sure I could handle being left by you so I took the first out I was given and left you instead.”

  He rubbed his hands on his jeans. “And I’m sorry, baby. So fucking sorry. If you take me back, I swear to God I’m all in. I’m not letting you get away from me anymore. You make me want to be someone better, yet make me proud of who I am too. Do you know how fucking rare that is? How rare you are?”

  He shook his head. Smiled. “I love you. I love you so fucking much it scares me, because nothing has the power to hurt me like you do, but being without you scares me more. I’m not ready to walk away from you.” He repeated the words Van had said to him.

  Van felt Shane’s words in his bones. They swam around in the marrow. I love you. I’m not ready to walk away from you.

  “I don’t know how we’ll make it work but we will. Long distance, you in Last Chance…me in LA. If you want me, I’ll stay. We can figure the rest of it out.” Shane winked. “I’ll be waiting.”

  Van’s heart felt like it was running a marathon. Jesus, he sure as hell hadn’t expected this.

  He picked up the phone to call Shane and then Shane’s words played through his head again.

  I’ll stay. Not, I’ll come. I’ll stay.

  I’ll be waiting.

  Van shoved to his feet, taking long, quick strides to the door. He jerked it open. “What took you so long?” Shane asked. He wore a pair of faded jeans and a dark T-shirt that clung to his muscles.

  He had scruff on his face that told Van he hadn’t shaved in a few days.

  He was fucking gorgeous.

  “I didn’t open the box right away. You’ve been sitting out here for over an hour?”

  “I’ve been sitting out here for longer than that. I just spent some of it hiding down the hallway. There’s a possibility someone called the cops on me for stalking you. I can’t say for sure.”

  Van’s mouth stretched into a smile. “Then I guess we better get your ass in here. Don’t worry, if they come looking for you, I’ll defend your honor.”

  “You will, huh?” Shane asked as he stepped inside.

  “Always.”

  The second Van closed the door, he said, “I didn’t know, Shane. You gotta know that. I had no fucking clue you were in the woods with Caleb that day. I had no clue anyone was with him. I didn’t know we were outing him for being with a guy. I thought we were narking on him for skipping, and if Jonathan said otherwise, he was lying. When I realized it, Caleb was gone and there was nothing I could do. I didn’t know he had anything to do with you.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Shane shook his head.

  “Do you really believe I would have known I hurt you that much and never tell you? You never mentioned Caleb. I didn’t realize he was so important to you. That you’d ever been something.”

  “He was my best friend,” Shane replied. “My only real friend. We hung out on the down-low because no one knew we were also messing around. He made me feel like I wasn’t alone.”

  And Van had always done the opposite when they were kids. He’d tried to hurt Shane. He could see why Shane would be hurt by the thought of him taking away the only person Shane had had there for him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “But I swear to you, I didn’t know. I had no idea he was important to you.” He hated that Shane had lost someone else.

  “It’s in the past and you were right. I was scared and I ran. I didn’t believe we could make it work. Everyone leaves. Even after everything, I was waiting for something to come between us, waiting to get left behind so I ran. It was safer to keep myself locked away rather than to risk getting hurt. You’re worth the risk, Van. I’m worth the risk.”

  “I won’t leave.”

  Shane stepped forward, closer and closer, until he stopped right in front of Van. “I’ll stay. Ryan can help with the shop and I’ll go home once a month or…fuck, I don’t know how we’ll make it work but we will. I just wanna be with you. You set me free.”

  Van sucked in a sharp breath at that.

  Shane ran his finger along the edge of Van’s dress pants. Up his stomach and chest. “You are so fucking beautiful. I wish I could take pictures of you.”

  “You can,” Van told him.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Van leaned in, rubbed his cheek against Shane’s. Felt the rough hairs rub against his skin. He smelled like home. Van inhaled, savoring it. “I love you so fucking much. Been like I was living without my heart.”

  “Me too,” Shane replied. />
  Van kissed him, licked his lip before pushing his tongue into Shane’s mouth. He held the side of Shane’s face as Shane’s fingers pushed into his hips and, Jesus, he was fucking addicted to the man.

  He kissed his way down Shane’s neck, noticed the box on the table again. “You started a business?”

  Shane chuckled. “No. I printed the sticker myself. I want to though.”

  Van laughed too. “You’re fucking crazy.”

  “Crazy in love.”

  “Crazy cheesy.”

  “Do you want me to stop?” Shane questioned.

  “No fucking way. Can I show you something?” Van asked and Shane nodded.

  Van walked over, plucked the book from his shelf. Their book. He took it over and handed it to Shane. The first picture was the very first one he’d taken of Shane and it went from there—naked pictures, clothed pictures. Pictures of Shane shaving and brushing his teeth and smiling. Pictures of him laughing and jerking off and ending with the night he’d taken pictures of Shane here. The last picture was of the two of them together. It was one night when they’d been on the deck at Shane’s place. It was a selfie that Van had taken, trying to hold the camera out awkwardly, almost fumbling it, as they laughed and he’d snapped the photo. Both their mouths were open and there were little wrinkles around their eyes. One look at the image and you could see how fucking happy they were.

  Shane and Van were sharp, clear, bright. But the background was slightly fuzzy, unfocused.

  Shane ran his fingers over the image as Van said, “It’s the depth of field. I did this one a little more limited because—”

  “We’re all that matters. Now,” Shane interrupted. “The past, everything else is in the distance, sort of fuzzy. None of that other shit matters. Just this. Just us.”

  “Yeah,” Van replied, not surprised that Shane got it without him having to explain his reasoning.

  “It’s incredible.” Shane looked over at him with glassy eyes.

  “It’s us.” Van nodded. Because they were pretty fucking incredible, weren’t they? After all they’d been through, lived through, and with the past they shared, that they could be in the place together and in love.