And in that instant, I realized that I was suddenly in the same category as all the other people on the street, even in the home we shared together. He was holding me at arms length for some reason.
Which was driving me up a wall.
I had no idea what I’d done or even how to begin to fix it. He wouldn’t come to me himself and whenever I tried to broach the subject, he’d deflect by saying I was overthinking things.
“We’re fine, Derek.” He’d told me with all the sincerity of a robot in his voice.
I’d tried to let it go, to put it behind me and just move forward.
But, then Colton had come out of his room the other night looking like a version of himself I didn’t recognize, only adding more to my confusion on things. I’d never seen Colton dress that way—and sure, I knew realistically people dressed inways they normally wouldn’t to go out to clubs but… I couldn’t put my finger on why the sight of him had caused my stomach to tighten into knots.
And contrary to what he’d requested of me, I’d stayed awake that night, staring at my ceiling with my mind racing. I could understand wanting to get laid—and shoot, maybe that was the crux of the issue. He’d been so pre-occupied with helping me settle in, he hadn’t gotten any. Good sex put me in a better mood, so I got it.
Except, who was he with? Was he being safe?
Was he picking up women looking like that… or men?
I’d heard whispers about the hook-up culture of gay men—the kinds of things that went on in the clubs—but did that also apply to bisexual men?
He’d had this smug swagger to him as he’d sauntered out of our living room, I just knew he would find someone. Which should have relieved me, but instead, I felt even more twisted up inside.
I’d finally fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion of being over it all—the weirdness, the confusion, and the feeling like the gap between us was growing wider every passing day
In truth, I enjoyed my time with Colton and wasn’t about to let our friendship fizzle out over some awkward tension. I wanted to get back the banter in our conversations and the friendly physical touch. I wanted Colton back.
So when it was apparent the club hadn’t done anything to resolve our situation, I’d asked him to another game of basketball.
At first, he seemed reluctant—hesitant—like he knew getting on the court with me meant he’d have to get close, physically or otherwise. We both knew our own competitive natures. He wouldn’t be able to avoid me if he wanted to win the game.
I hadn’t let him back out, though.
“Worried I’ll wipe the floor with you?” I teased, smirking.
He shot me a glare. “You wish.”
I raised my hands in mock surrender. “By my record, I’m ahead by one game. I’m just stating facts.” We had played a few more games before going to Darby’s Wish and I was using my winning record to my advantage.
I could see his cutthroat nature for the game driving him. He wanted to get even. His eyes narrowed at me while he weighed his options.
I held my breath, waiting to see what would win out—his stubbornness or the desire to win?
My eyes locked on him worrying his lower lip with his teeth. He was thinking hard about it. When his shoulders relaxed and that familiar cocky grin spread over his face, I knew I’d done it.
“You better be ready to eat those words,” He declared.
I couldn’t help the smile that split my face, growing so wide it almost hurt. I was powerless to fight it. We needed this—a return to normal.
We made plans for that afternoon, and when the time came around, I felt like I was practically throwing my clothes onto my body in anticipation of heading to the court.
Colton came out in his go-to oversized t-shirt and gym shorts, which made me pause for some reason. He always seemed to dress to disappear, which I couldn’t understand given how he’d looked the night he went to the club. His shirt had been significantly tighter than anything else I’d ever seen him wear, and he’d oozed confidence with his styled hair and combat boots. I’d assumed he’d worn the baggy clothes out of insecurity—which also had puzzled me since it wasn’t like he had a bad body—but now? Now, I wasn’t sure why he did it.
Something didn’t add up, but right now I was focused on saving our friendship. Interrogations about his clothing style could wait till another time.
We ended up back at the same court Colton had brought me to before, him grabbing the basketball from the back of histruck while I rolled my shoulders. I would never admit it but I had been mentally rehearsing this match all morning.
We both silently fell into some warm-up stretches, the distance between us physically and otherwise feeling like an impossible hurdle to jump. I was hopeful this game would get us back into the right headspace. But first… I had to coax Colton out of this funk.
“Hope you’re well stretched. You’re going to need it.” I called as I took the ball.
