“There’s no rules about what we can and can’t do. I don’t want to keep pretending that I’m not attracted to you.”
“I’m not…” Taylor squeezed his eyes shut and breathed out through his nose. “I’m not gay.”
“Jesus, I’m not saying you’re gay!” Fletcher said defensively, sharpening his tone. “You’re attracted to me. You can’t lie to me and say you aren’t.”
“Fletcher…” Taylor didn’t even know what to say to that. He wouldn’t lie. He was really fucking attracted to him. It was wrong. So wrong.
“Taylor, you’re sitting on my fucking lap! I don’t think fully straight guys do that.”
Taylor rolled his eyes and tsked as he moved off Fletcher’s lap and walked over towards the kitchen. He wasn’t going to leave, but the apartment was small, so he didn’t have much of an option. Fletcher stood up and walked towards him. “We can’t do this, Fletcher!” Taylor said, fully frustrated. Mostly with himself for having these stupid, confusing feelings. “I can’t do this.”
Maybe Taylor needed to find his shirt and leave. Maybe if he walked away, there would still be a chance for things to go back to normal. “You can’t hide in the fucking kitchen,” Fletcher told him.
“I’m overwhelmed! Just give me a fucking minute to breathe!” Leave. Fuck. He should’ve said leave.
“I think you should stay,” Fletcher told him firmly, not backing down.
“I never said I was leaving!” Taylor needed to calm down. He wasn’t making any sense.
Fletcher walked up to him, backing Taylor up against the kitchen island. “You’re staying. You’re spending the night. You’re not running away.” He cupped Taylor’s cheek and leaned in, brushing their noses together. “Don’t walk away from this. From me,” he said more softly. Vulnerably. Taylor’s heart clenched.
Taylor didn’t ever want to leave. He wasn’t strong enough. Not anymore. Not when Fletcher was begging him to stay. Taylor swallowed.
“Fine.” Taylor let out a sigh of defeat. “We can’t expectanything to come from this.”
“Just stop overthinking things. There’s nothing wrong about what we’re doing.”
He let out a deep breath and nodded hesitantly. “Okay.”
Fletcher’s face brightened. “You won’t leave?”
Taylor shook his head. “I won’t leave.”
The corners of Fletcher’s mouth curled up into a smile. “Okay.”
20
The Movie
“Armstrong, stop by my office before you head out,” Coach called out from behind him.
Fletcher turned and gave her a thumbs up.
“Oh shit,” Douglas quipped. “Are you in trouble?” He let out a snicker and slapped Fletcher on the back.
“Probably,” Fletcher shook his head and rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Yesterday was my mom’s birthday. I didn’t call. She must’ve told on me.” Fletcher explained to Douglas how his mom and Coach were practically best friends.
“So you’re telling me you knew coach before you were traded?” he asked.
Fletcher made an embarrassed look. “She kind of changed my diapers when I was a baby. It’s always awkward when my mom tries to use her as a middle-man when I refuse to pick up their calls.”
Douglas frowned. “That sucks, man. I hate that your family’s so messed up. I can’t believe you still turned out so… good or whatever.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Trust me, I’m just as messed up as they are. I’m just better at hiding it.” It came out like a joke, but Fletcher wasn’t lying. You could probably write a book on all of the different shades of fucked up Fletcher could be. Not even his therapist growing up could help.
Fletcher was a troubled kid. He didn’t get the right kind of attention at home, so he would act out to try and provoke his parents. Getting into fights at school, getting caught with girls he snuck into his room, forcing his parents to pay people off if they had any uncompromising pictures of him. It was really easy to make his mom snap, so he usually ended up targeting his dad.
The thing about Sean Armstrong was that he wouldn’t show his anger out in public. He would wait until they were in the car or at home to berate Fletcher. And for some reason, he would just keep trying to antagonize his dad. Because any attention was good attention if you never got any growing up.
