KnotMyProblem: You know better than I do. Just… try to keep an open mind, okay? Sometimes things don’t work out, and that doesn’t mean you’ve failed. I’m here for you if you need me.
The prickling exploded, its needlelike shrapnel penetrating Gage’s defenses and sticking him in the soft, vulnerable parts of his soul he did his best to keep guarded. Irritation skittered across the back of his skull, like his head had been beset upon by a thousand busy ants. When he replied, he did so by tapping furiously at his phone, like jabbing the touchscreen could convey his anger.
TeenDad2: You don’t know my situation. You don’t know what Aaron and I have been through. You know what you know, Knot? NOTHING. I know you’re trying to help. I know that you hope that maybe I’ll leave Aaron so you can swoop in to be my knight in shining armor, but I’m just
Gage stopped typing abruptly. He hadn’t sent the message yet, and he regretted his tone. He deleted it and tried again.
TeenDad2: Thanks. I’m okay, really, but that’s nice of you to be there for me if I need someone. I want to make things 100% clear with you, though
KnotMyProblem: Yeah?
TeenDad2: You’re my friend, Knot. I’m not interested in you romantically. I find it really flattering that you’re worried for me, but I don’t see the possibility for anything more between us. My heart is already spoken for.
For a while, there was silence. Knot started and stopped typing several times before his reply appeared.
KnotMyProblem: I know
TeenDad2: I’m going to try to sleep now. It’s been a really tough day.
KnotMyProblem: Night, TD.
TeenDad2: Night
Gage logged off, put his phone beside his pillow, and covered his head with his blankets. Not even the September heat could chase him out from where he’d hidden.
All he needed to do was be strong for a little longer.
Just a little longer.
When Aaron came back, everything would be fine, and he—and Bo—could breathe easy again.
4
Gage
“Daddy.” Bo pushed Gage’s eyelids up with his chubby fingers, grinning down at Gage with an abundance of enthusiasm that had no right to exist at such an early hour in the morning. Gage, freshly wrenched from a deep sleep, shrieked in terror and flailed. Reality collided with the nightmarish dream world he’d been living in seconds before, and the blurry sight of a young human face through the darkness looked hauntingly demonic. It only took a second for him to realize what had happened, but it was a second too long—he’d thrashed out from beneath Bo, who plopped down onto the bed with a rounded “oomf!” and a thud, like a mischievous, wheezing sack of potatoes had been tossed onto Gage’s lumpy old mattress.
“Baby,” Gage gasped. He rolled onto his side and drew Bo into his arms, expecting tears. Instead, he was rewarded with laughter, then a harsh cough. Despite it, Bo cuddled against his chest and snuggled him hard, wiggling his body back and forth, like if he tried hard enough, he’d be able to burrow his way behind Gage’s ribs. “Baby, I’m sorry. You scared me when you woke me up.”
“Sorry,” Bo said, although he didn’t sound very sorry at all. “Morning, Daddy.”
“Morning, baby boy.”
Gage kissed Bo’s forehead. His heart hammered in the way it did on nights when he stacked energy drinks with coffee in order to wake up enough to stream. The terror would subside soon enough, but until it did, Gage’s skin would tingle, and his hair would stand on end. The nightmares he’d been having were lost to him now that he was awake, but the feeling they’d evoked from him remained. Claustrophobic immobility. Unpreventable, aggravating helplessness. It was like having both feet suctioned deep into pools of molasses, knowing if only he could get free, he could make progress… but not knowing where to start when it came to freeing himself.
To soothe some of his discomfort, Gage stroked Bo’s hair and contemplated the course of their morning. A quick glance at the clock on the floor revealed it was just before six. He’d make Bo some breakfast, get him in the bath, dry and dress him, and from there—
“Daddy?”
“Yes?” Gage blinked back into focus, looking at Bo through the dark. He’d pulled back from Gage’s chest slightly, just enough so that he could peer up at him.
“Mmm. Where Mal?”
“Mal?” Mal, with his huge heart, looked after Bo on days when Gage had to work during the day—usually when he posed as a life model for Alex, or on weekends when he could stream during the day and still bring in enough revenue to make it worth his time. “He’s at home, sleeping. Why?”
“Wanna see Mal.” Bo sighed. He settled down and traced his hands clumsily over the front of Gage’s t-shirt. “Miss him.”
“You’ll see him soon.” Gage’s eyes burned, and he craved to shut them for just a little longer to eke more sleep out of his morning, but Bo needed him. He’d put on some coffee, silence his exhaustion with caffeine, and tackle the day. As soon as the respiratory specialist’s office opened, Gage would call them and set up an appointment. There had to be an opening not all that far out—doctors held places open for emergency cases, didn’t they? Bo was easily an emergency. “What are you most excited to do when you see Mal again?”
