It needs to be now.
Soon.
Please. I need to see you.
Nick assumed his texts had been about sex. But Oliver’s expression at the market hadn’t been about losing a simple sexual arrangement.
“I’m sorry I slapped you.” Anya was tiny on her chair.
He pulled her close to him. He’d always loved the way she’d fit against him, her head under his chin. When they’d been in school, holding her there felt like she was his to protect.
Except now she didn’t want it. Hadn’t wanted it in years. His sexuality didn’t even figure into it, although she’d known about it since high school, maybe even before Nick knew for sure. But despite all their history, they’d still been too young when they’d gotten married—or Nick was, anyway. He hadn’t been mature enough to realize their marriage only worked with both of them committed. Sulking and passing blame instead of working for it had been so easy, and this—this impossible situation—was the result.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he said.
“You’re lucky I didn’t see him first. Is he bi too?”
Nick laughed softly, and it made him feel better. “I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so?” She leaned back so she could see his face. “What the hell have you been talking about? You better go see him. I’m sorry if I made it complicated for the both of you.”
Nick kissed the top of her hair. “It was bound to happen. I’m sorry I upset you. I’ve never been ashamed of you.” He’d never been anything but proud to be in her life, in whatever way she’d let him. She’d tried to be Nick’s friend and ally, but being rational enough to accept it for the gift it was took him years.
“I’m going to be late for work. Give me a lift. You’ll have to pick up Hayden from community service.”
Nick’s nerves hadn’t settled, but he followed her to the door. Whatever else happened, he was on sure footing at home again, and that was a good place to start.
Now he just had to see where things stood with Oliver.
* * *
The knock had Oliver’s hair standing on end. He almost didn’t hear it, as he tried to clean up the mess from the half-finished hangover remedy he’d started that morning, but then it came again.
He glanced out the front window and hesitated at the sight of Nick’s old car on the street.
He didn’t have to answer. If he stayed out of sight, Nick would eventually leave.
“Oliver.” Nick’s voice was as quiet as his knock had been, muffled on the other side of the door. “Please. I don’t have to stay long but let me tell you about what you saw.”
Cooper had tried to explain once, but it had been too little, too late, and Oliver had wound up with a Porsche full of his stuff and a broken heart.
At least this time, Nick would be the one to go.
He opened the door and stepped aside. Nick slipped into the hall quickly, like he was afraid Oliver might reconsider and slam the door in his face.
“Thanks.” Nick hunched in his jacket. The hospitable thing would be to offer to take it, hang it in the closet, but Nick wouldn’t be staying that long, so why be polite? Nick hadn’t used any of his manners when he’d chosen to cheat on his wife.
Oliver went back to the kitchen and resumed his clean up. Nick slid onto one of the stools by the breakfast bar, hands folded on the counter.
“I told you I was divorced,” he said.
“You didn’t look all that divorced this morning.” Oliver regretted it as soon as he spoke. Showing that much emotion put him at a deficit.
“I wasn’t aware there was a particular divorced look. Is there a shirt I’m supposed to wear?”
Oliver glared at him, and Nick sighed. “Sorry.”
Something was jammed in the juicer. Oliver stabbed a knife into the opening in an effort to dislodge it.
