Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 23821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
“Can’t we just leave it alone? You don’t want—”
“You have no idea what I want or don’t want, because you just decided for me and then left me all alone.”
“Varro, I left so you wouldn’t have to deal with me wanting you anymore, and that’s the bottom line. You know it and I know it.”
“And whoever said you couldn’t have that?”
“Have that. Have you. That’s what we’re talking about. Make no mistake, we’re talking about me having you,” I confessed, and I could hear the scratchy desperation in my voice. I was so scared and suddenly, ridiculously, so hopeful at the exact same time.
“I know.”
“I—”
“No, Brian,” he said gruffly. “You don’t get to keep making decisions. We’re done with that.”
“What does that mean?”
Several beats of time went by, of silence.
“I missed you when you left.”
“I missed you too,” I said automatically, since it was the truth and it sounded like he was going to let us get back to normal.
“No, you’re not hearing me. I didn’t miss you like I used to. It was different.”
My knees wobbled, and I had to sit down. It was lucky my front porch steps were there.
“I think about you all the time, Brian,” he murmured, and I could hear the pain in his voice.
I didn’t trust mine to come out as anything but a strangled gasp.
“But then I got scared, because, holy shit, right? I mean, you’re it. You’re my best friend and my conscience, you know all my secrets, and you still love me. What if I fuck it up and then you’re really gone? What am I supposed to do then?”
He sounded so lost. “Please wait at the airport,” I rasped. “I’ll come get you.”
“What?”
“You’re at LAX, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then wait. I’m coming now.”
“No.” He sounded certain, and my heart seized.
“Don’t leave,” I begged. “Don’t race away from me.”
“What’re you—”
“Please.”
“Brian, I have no intention of leaving you.”
He didn’t? “You’re not?”
“No. I don’t think we’re made to be apart.”
Always, my whole life, the man had been able to devastate me with his words.
“Do you love me?” I held my breath waiting for his answer.
“Yes.”
I plunged ahead. “Not like a brother.”
“No, not like that.”
I was back to being able to push air through my lungs.
“Like you want to be with me and sleep with me.”
“Yes.”
“Varro,” I whispered, because my voice had bottomed out on me.
“I love you. I’ve always loved you. I just didn’t know I did.”
And my life, just then, at that second, finally started. I stood up, walked down the steps, and then halfway down the path, lifting my face to the sun.
“Brian?”
“You do?” I asked shakily, a new emotion rolling through me. Hope.
“I do. I’m sorry. Turns out I’m kinda clueless. Forgive me.”
“Varro—”
“And then I was scared, ’cause, like I said, what if I lost you and then that was it?” His voice sounded like his throat was full of broken glass. “Can’t come back from that. Nothing would ever be the same.”
I missed things sometimes, and the fact he was really hurt had flown right over my head. “I left to punish you,” I confessed.
“I know.”
“And it worked.”
“Yes, it did.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re all I have. You’re the only one who knows me,” Varro admitted.
“You have your family. They love you.”
“But you get me. You know how my mind works. You see all of me.”
“And now you know why.”
He muttered something.
“What was that?” I pinned him down.
“I said yeah, I know why.”
“Do you?”
“Again, I’m not fuckin’ stupid.”
The whimper was involuntary. “Please, just—”
“Shut up. I’ll be right there. Just wait for me, all right? Don’t take off again.”
“I’m home—where the hell am I gonna go?”
“Maybe somewhere with that guy,” he grumbled.
“What guy?”
“You don’t know your own guy?”
“I don’t have a guy.”
“I think you do.”
I was at a loss, and then it hit me. What it would have looked like if he saw it from the outside looking in. “How do you know about Graham?”
“Oh, so suddenly you remember his name?”
“I always—how do you know who he is?”
“I saw you with him last night.”
“You did?”
“Yeah.”
“And you didn’t come see me. You didn’t come and talk to me.”
“No.”
“Why the fuck not?” I flared angrily, shocked that he would stay away from me. He was never allowed to be in close proximity to me and not be seen, heard, touched.
“You were kissing him, and I— I’ve never seen you kiss anyone before.”
“Okay.”
“It was weird.”
“Weird, gross?” I fished.
“No.”
“Weird how?”
“Weird how pissed I was at you.”
“Pissed at me?”
“Yeah.”
“Why the fuck would you be pissed at me?”
“Because you were kissing him!” He sounded disgusted.
“Are you even listening to yourself?”
“Yes, I’m— Why would it matter?”
“You know why.”
I said what I hoped he was thinking. “Because I don’t kiss other men, I don’t fuck other men. I only do that with you.”
“That’s right.”
It felt like the ground fell out from under me, and my body, which had been cold out in the December air, flushed with heat.