He frowned at me. “Stop what?”
“Whatever this is,” I said, motioning to his hand on my foot. “You acting like my…”
I couldn’t sayboyfriendbecause despite my wildest fantasies, I’d accepted he would never be anything more than platonic to me. He seemed nonplussed and lifted my legs so he could sit down on the ottoman. He rested my legs on his thighs and pulled me closer, leaning closer so his massive arms caged me in, and he could look me in the eye. It was hot as fuck, but I couldn’t lose my train of thought.
“Talk to me. You know you can. I’m a better ear, than one to give advice.”
He was right, of course. He’d always been an ear for me to vent my frustrations. More importantly, I had to be honest with him because I owed him nothing less.
I took several deep breaths and tried not to melt under his kind eyes that seemed more like freshly forged steel, still warm and soft. “I’ve had a crush on you since we were kids and I’ve always been attracted to you. I fantasize what our lives might be like if you were gay. But I’ve come to accept I can’t have you in that way. It is one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in my life knowing I can’t have you so when you cuddle me at night, help wash me like it’s more than necessary… The way you touch me…isn’t the way a platonic best friend is supposed to. And it’s giving me false hope. I know you’ve always been different, so you might not realize what you’re doing is out of the ordinary. But it is for me, and I need you to stop.”
He sat back, his brows furrowing. His gaze dropped to the floor, and I had no idea what he was thinking. As counterproductive as it would be, I wanted his arms around me at this moment.
My voice was thin as I said, “Jere, can you understand what I’m saying?”
His eyes slid up to mine, and I expected to see the cold hard reflection of barren stone, but something else was there, something like blue fire burning with unspoken need. “Why do you assume I don’t want the same thing?”
My mouth hung open. I had no response to his question because it made not one bit of sense. I ran my palms up and down my face. I didn’t have the patience to use the special gloves I normally did when trying to understand what he was telling me. “Jere… I love you and you’re my best friend. Please, help me help you so you understand.”
“I don’t speak another fucking language,” he bit out, the snap of anger momentarily shocking. His shoulders rolled as he sucked in a heavy breath then released it in a hiss.
I shook my head, the beginnings of a stress-induced headache coming on. “Jere, you’re straight and I’m gay. What you’re saying doesn't make any sense.”
He got up, and gently set my legs on the cushion. He dug his hands in his hair at the roots and pulled. Despite his actions, his voice was gentle. “Why do have to put labels on everything? Why can’t I just be…me?”
My heart clenched. I’d hit something deep and secretive. I knew him well enough to know he tried to hide his emotions. With all my strength, I got to my feet and hobbled to him. Getting up too quickly made me lose my balance and I fell into his arms and held onto him tightly, afraid I’d lose him. I didn’t know how to cope with not having him in my life. Quietly pining for him was better than not having him at all.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know how, but I hurt you. I’m just trying to be honest with you,” I said against his chest. He held me close, and I allowed myself to pretend. “You’re my best friend and I love you. I want you to be more but accept you can’t be.”
The words that followed shocked my system. “But what if I wasmore?”
I looked up at him, my own anger and frustration rising. Why would he say something like that? Didn’t he know what it meant for my sanity? “What are you saying, damn it?”
He guided me back to the bed and took his seat across from me on the ottoman. Our knees touched, that little connection through our clothes more exciting than being naked with a celebrity crush. He rested his weight on his elbows. “Nothing has ever been black and white for me, Danny. I don’t understand a lot of things, but I know this… I’d do anything for you. You’remine. I want to be around you all the time. These years of us being apart really sucked. It was as if a part of me was missing, and I don’t know how I made it without you there. I want to do things to you like I do with women. I think about it a lot. Mostly, I want to hang out with you and be like we were. And if anyone fucks with you again, I’ll murder them.”
My breath got stuck in my throat and my mind swooned trying to decipher his stream of thoughts. My first instinct was to ask if he were joking, but Jere would never joke about something so important. Tears—of hope and despair—gathered in my eyes. “Jere… Christ. Are you saying you’rebi-curious?”
He rolled his eyes. “Again with the labels.”
I searched his face for anything to explain what he'd said. I never imagined in all these years he might be attracted to men. Maybe I’d convinced myself he was straight.
“But all the girls you used to flirt with in high school,” I countered, grasping for an excuse.
“I did what was expected of me,” he countered. “Besides, I liked them. Doesn’t mean I wanted to go to bed with them.”
“You used to talk about that girl you were seeing a few years ago.”
“Only because you liked talking about that shithead you called boyfriend and sharing our sex-ploits was something I could share with you. And Mandy was cool. We still talk.”
I took a moment to absorb his words. Icouldsee it from his point of view. “Have you ever been with a man?”
“No.” He scratched his stubbled chin in thought. “I think the only man I’d want to be with is you.”
Those words wrapped their sweet fingers around my heart. “This is all very overwhelming right now.”
He got up and cracked his head side to side as if he’d completed a strenuous workout. I figured it had taken a lot for him to put his feelings into words. “You should nap. We can finish this talk another time.”
“No, this is important.”
