His chest felt tight as the implications hit him again. And suddenly, he was suffocating. Not really. Not really. He wasn’t really there. Back there. Being touched against his will. Forced against his will.
He gripped his cell phone and made himself read Jake’s text again. And then again. And he scrolled back up and looked at one of the silly memes Jake had sent him a few days ago. One with some really grumpy-looking cat complaining about Mondays. And he saw more smiley face emojis. Lots of them. And Jake’s kind words.See you soon!Texts about cookies and beach walks and lunches. And all the pictures of birds. There was one of a black-crowned heron Jake had seen from his patio. Another of a hummingbird. Another of Peanut and Butter, the two yellow warblers. And then a picture of a gorgeous sunset over the ocean.I wish you were here right now. This one is amazing! The clouds!Smiley face emoji.
Rye inhaled a shaky breath and closed his eyes, still gripping the phone. It had grounded him just now. Jake had. Jake, his best friend.
Was Rye really just so ignorant about friendship that he hadn’t realized how what he and Jake had was becoming more?
And it didn’t matter. He wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t ready at all. He felt lightheaded suddenly, his heart racing as a chill rushed through him.
Relationships like that, he assumed, came with... expectations. Expectations for touching and... more. Didn’t they?
If he and Jake—
There was a knock on the front door, and Rye’s whole body tensed. His head started to pound, and he pulled the blanket up over his face, pushing himself to the edge of his bed with his back against the wall. The birds had stopped chirping outside, and the silence seemed to fill the room, taking up so much space, it pushed him back harder into the wall, pushed all the air from his lungs.
And he couldn’t breathe.
His phone buzzed once. Then again after another moment. Finally, he sucked in a ragged breath and dragged his hand up closer to his face, still hiding under the blanket. Two new text messages.
Jake (8:03 a.m.):Hey, I’m here :)
Jake (8:03 a.m.):Can I come in?
Another one popped up on his screen as he was reading.
Jake (8:04 a.m.):Do you need space?
He felt the tears before they fell, and they were hot and uncontrolled. And he nodded, even though Jake wasn’t there in the room with him and couldn’t see it. Through blurry vision, he typed the letter Y and hit send. Then he dropped the phone and turned his head to bury his face in his pillow.
Quiet sounds of the front door opening and then closing echoed through the thick silence, and Rye could hear Jake’s heavy, slightly uneven footsteps. They didn’t come closer. They stayed in the kitchen or in the living room.
Because Jake respected his boundaries. Every time.
More tears forced themselves out.
Do you need space?Those were their code words for when Rye was having too rough of a day and couldn’t make himself get out of bed. They gave Jake “permission” to come in, to stick around so Rye wasn’t really “alone.”But they also told Jake he wasn’t doing well enough for whatever they’d had planned. Or for socializing. Or talking.
And Jake understood. He understood to wait and give Rye whatever space and time he needed. Because Jake was... perfect. He was so kind and wise and caring. And gentle. And thoughtful. And he was interesting and smart and funny.
He was a perfect friend. And—and he’d be the perfect boyfriend.
For someone who wasnotRye. He deserved so much better.
Rye was too broken. Totally beyond fixing. Worthless. A burden. And Jake...
His phone buzzed.
Jake (8:07 a.m.):I’m here if you need me
Jake (8:07 a.m.):You’re not alone
Then one of those people-hugging emojis and a purple heart.
And Rye shuddered and held his phone tight against his chest as he stifled another sob into his pillow.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Jake
