“I’d never dream of stealing your title. Everything else okay though?”
“Yeah. Fabulous, but now that I’ve got you on the phone, there’s something I want to ask you. What would you think about a fun getaway for Thanksgiving?”
“To where?”
He delays answering for a beat, setting my suspicion meter on red alert. “California,” he finally says innocently.
“Toyourhouse?”
“Yeah. It’ll be fun.” His false bravado tells me it will be anything but fun, especially when he tries to sweeten the deal with, “You can come watch the chaos first-hand. It’ll be like having front row seats to a mud wrestling competition. Biting is allowed at those things, by the way.”
Starting my car, I wait for my phone to broadcast him over my speakers. As much as I’d love to experience a California Thanksgiving with Jamie, I think I’d have to pass on watching him lose his mind. “I can’t. I was going to go home to see my parents.”
“Oh, come on. I’ll call them. They’ll understand.”
“Jamie, I haven’t been home since last Christmas. I already told them I’m coming.”
He mutters something that sounds like‘fucking coward.’
“Fine.” That four-letter word has never been uttered with such exasperation. “What’s new with you? Still happily single and saving one sciatica at a time, I hope?”
“Yes,” I snort, but a niggle of guilt has me tugging at my collar. “I’ve been giving someone personal therapy in the mornings before work.”
“Oooh, now we’re talking. Give me all the dirt. Is it a pulled hammy? Do you have to get way up in there?”
“Oh, God. You’d better not be jerking off while I’m talking to you.”
“I don’t think I can. I think the chemicals have caused permanent damage.”
I’ll say.
“So, what’s the scoop?”
Here goes nothing. And I thought he was wound up when I first called.
“It’s…Chris. I ran into him again after you left.”
Three thumps resound, the sound of something solid rapping against something else solid. It’s followed by a low groan.
“Are you…banging your head?”
“Yes!I’m trying to activate my mind control powers so you’ll do the same and knock some sense into yours. Tell me, does this‘therapy’involve lube and lots of filthy sex followed by not a single solitary thought about building a house with a white picket fence? Becausethatis the only acceptable kind of therapy for a scenario that includes you and the football king.”
“No. And there areotherpossible scenarios, believe it or not.” I ignore his sputter of disbelief. “It’s…we’re friends. He’s got…a lot of problems and I’m helping him.”
“Because that’s what youdo, Remy! Ugh. Please do not let him take advantage of you.”
“Jay, it’s not like that. Not this time. I swear. He’s…different. Not like he was at the bar that night. I think he was just…desperate for comfort and hurting. We talk.” I’m quick to add, “Withoutany sex, and…it’s nice. Really nice.” He’s unusually quiet for once. The campus comes into view, so I wrap it up, hoping that will signal that I’m putting a pin in this before he can analyze things too much. “Anyway. That’s what’s new, and I’m fine. I promise.”
“If‘fine’means you’re lying to me and getting dicked down twice a day, I swear I will fly my blue-balled ass out there, drag you back here, and feed you to the zombie children if you end up a crying mess after it ends.”
I’m about to blurt out that it’s not going to end but catch myself. There’s nothing to end. Whether Chris and I ever part as friends, something more, or something less, I know it would hurt, but it would hurt in a way that would be acceptable now that I know where I stand. Unlike months ago, I don’t think I’d have a sense of being less or missing out on something if I were single after that. Because I can see that I was right about onething all those years ago. I just had no proof to understand why I was right.Chris is it for me. If it never happens, I’ll be okay with that because I got to know him at least. I don’t know if I’ll want to tell him he’sit, but I trust how I feel. Trusting how I feel for the first time in my life is really fucking freeing.
I guess my fairy tale happened after all. It just looks a little different than I thought it would.
CHAPTER 13
Chris
