“Was it me?”
Fallon froze, his brows dipped low. “What?”
“Because I threatened to hit him. Fuck, I should not be letting my temper get the best of me right now, and I swear I’m not violent. But oh God, that’s what all the violent people say, isn’t it? Please let me at least take you home. I didn’t mean to freak you out, and?—”
“Gage.”
His jaw snapped shut.
Fallon took a deep breath, then reached for his hand. “I didn’t hear you threaten to punch him, but I kind of wish I had. It wasn’t you, it was him. I can’t be around guys like that. It happened in high school all the time, and then in college, and it’s just…it’s too much.”
Gage felt a rush of relief and guilt as Fallon’s fingers twisted through his own. “I shouldn’t have brought you here. These guys were so shitty to Lucas, and I kept telling myself to cut them off, but he kept telling me it was a good idea to go back and enjoy myself. I don’t know why.”
“Maybe he told you those things because he doesn’t want to feel guilty about stopping you from having friends.”
“Brutal,” Gage said from behind a sigh. “But that’s definitely a thing Lucas would do. I just wish he had more faith in me that I want better friends than them.”
“Maybe he doesn’t really know how bad they are. He’s probably used to getting those comments. Most people think guys like us are weird,” Fallon said absently, playing with Gage’s fingers. He dragged his own fingertips toward Gage’s palm, then back out again, stalling when he found a callus and sweeping over the smoother parts of his palm. The sensation was overwhelmingly soothing for Gage, who almost closed his eyes. “And youknowwe are.”
“I like your kind of weird,” Gage murmured with a small snort.
Fallon let out a small laugh. “Yeah. It can be charming. But it can also be annoying as hell. I’ve definitely seen the way my brothers’ eyes glaze over when I start going off about religious history. Or photography. And Frankie swears he doesn’t mind when I get weird about food, but I know he does. We used to be so broke, and sometimes I’d have to throw away an entire meal, and…and I know the pressure that put on him. I wished every night I could change who I was just to make things easier for him.”
“I bet he’s glad you couldn’t,” Gage said, spreading his fingers wider when Fallon pushed his own between them. He didn’t hold Gage’s hand. He kept stroking the sensitive skin at the joins.
“You’re probably right. But I also know that if I had a choice to be an easier kid for him, I would have done it.” Fallon shrugged, his eyes big and owlish behind his thick lenses. “If you want to stay here tonight with your friends?—”
“Oh, I fucking don’t. These people have shown me repeatedly they’re not my friends. D&D is a huge part of my life. It has been since I was thirteen. I got diagnosed with ADHD, and I struggled to adapt to the meds…” Gage trailed off. “I was so angry all the time, and it gave me an outlet. But it’s not worth clinging to this fucking group when they’re going to be such massive, gaping assholes.”
“Terrible mental image,” Fallon said, wrinkling his nose.
Gage couldn’t disagree. “There are other people out there. Better people. It’s hard to find them in a small town, but I’m not going to compromise my morals or my friends just because something’s difficult.”
“Do you want to go back to your place, and you can show me all the D&D stuff?” Fallon asked.
Gage blinked at him. “Oh. Um…yeah, actually. That could be fun. But it also might be boring.”
“It won’t be,” Fallon said, sounding so damn sure of himself. Then he let Gage go and walked to his car, tugging on the handle until Gage collected himself enough to push the button and pop the lock.
The night was not going where he expected. But, as he let himself feel the echo of Fallon’s fingers against his palm, he was pretty sure that wasn’t a bad thing.
He didn’t mean to be overly quiet or lost in his thoughts, but Gage had a bad habit of zoning out whenever the room got quiet. And Fallon was, unfortunately, a very quiet person when he wanted to be.
The problem was, Gage was only just starting to process everything he’d gone through over the last two years. Thetrauma of what had happened to him was complicated by the fact that he didn’t remember it. He didn’t know whether or not he had a right to feel upset about his assault, considering other people had to be awake for their living nightmare.
His therapist, his friends, and his family all said that was bullshit—that it wasn’t some kind of trauma Olympics that anyone was trying to win—but that didn’t erase his constant questioning.
His therapist told him that was normal too, and that was when he decided normalcy sucked.
For the moment, he was grateful for the people in his life keeping him distracted from all the bullshit, but in the quiet moments, even when he had people over to his place, he couldn’t stopthinking.
He was on a knife’s edge, waiting for the paternity test results. Waiting for some kind of concrete fact about whether or not Jonny and Alayna were lying.
The results were late now—by three days—and it was making him feel sick. He’d been checking his phone obsessively, which was why he’d invited Fallon out in the first place, but now the other man was perusing his figurine shelves, muttering to himself but not talking to Gage at all.
Which left him to his thoughts.
“Did you make them?”
