“Do I just say hey guys—let’s go for it. And then what? It’s like a free for all?”
“Dude, I don’t know, but I’d definitely wanna hear about it.”
“Would you and Calyx do it?”
“Fuckno. I’d kill anybody who touched him. With my hands.”
“So I guess you guys are doing all right.”
He grins again, and this time it’s that dumb, lovestruck grin all happy people have. I hate it. I mean—I’m happy for him and them and whatever, but he looks ridiculous. “Yeah, we’re great. His birthday’s next week, we’re gonna be in New York, he’ll look smokin’ hot. I can eat whatever the fuck I want because I don’t have another fight until April. I’m excited.”
“Have you been to New York before?”
“With my dad, but that’s a whole thing I don’t wanna talk about.”
“I told you mine, tell me yours.”
“Yeah?” He looks both desperate and hopeful. “‘Cause it’s one of those things I can’t talk about with Calyx.”
“Sure. I’ve got nothing but time.”
Samuel and I end up getting our dogs and going for a long walk while he tells me about his parents’ impending divorce. I’m not sure I say anything helpful since I was so young when my parents called it quits, but I’m able to listen as he goes through all his complicated feelings out loud. I come home feeling better having touched base with him, and frankly, it was refreshing having a completely non-sexual interaction with someone besides Millie. It’s been a minute.
Also, it helped me make my decision. Before I go to bed, I text Deacon to say I’m willing to talk.
23
ISAAC
Evan barely speaks to me at work on Tuesday morning. He’s not rude or anything, just quiet. And it makes me extremely nervous for the meet-up we’ve got scheduled at my apartment tonight.
Because I can’t get anything done, I make an excuse about needing a haircut and my stylist having a sudden opening. I leave well before lunch. What I really intend to do is see my brother. I don’t know why I didn’t just tell Evan that—but here we are.
I’m almost positive I wake Jake up with my text that I’m on my way because his response isn’t as put together as his texts usually are. The end result is, he’s available. I’ve mentioned wanting to see the fraternity house where he lives since that wasn’t the kind of thing I did in college. I was too busy sowing my wild oats—clubbing and fucking and dragging myself to classes hungover as hell.
Jake goes to Hamilton Hills College, a small, private school north of San Francisco. They have exactly one fraternity and one sorority, which I find ridiculous. But according to him, joining up is the quickest way to make friends.
The campus is beautiful, situated near Napa Valley with all the accompanying nature and scenery. His frat house is a two-story colonial, totally out of place among the other more modern buildings. He’s out front when I pull up, waiting for me on a porch swing. He’s showered, but he looks otherwise bedraggled. Messy dark blond hair and shabby sweatshirt over threadbare flannel pants.
His hands are shoved in the front pocket of his hoodie, so I get a nod instead of a wave and a rumbly, “Hey.”
“We’re staying outside?” I ask, approaching him. “Not sure if you noticed, but it’s winter.”
He shrugs. “Sun’s out. Makes it seem warmer.”
Seem being the operative word.
“What the hell is going on?” he asks as I sit close to him, hoping to get some of his body heat. “You left work early? If you’ve got a fever or something, stay the hell away from me, I’ve got a date this weekend.”
“No fever. Boy problems.”
“You’re starting to make me think dating guys is harder than dating girls. What happened now?”
“The guy I’ve been seeing?—”
“Deacon, right?”
I nod. “And the guy I’ve been fucking––”
