Okay, he was procrastinating. So sue him.
“There’s something I want…need to tell you.” He blew out a breath, trying to ignore the hammering of his heart. “I’ve been vague about my parents, but there’s a reason. They were heroin addicts.”
No one said a word. No one moved. No one even blinked.
He continued talking, the words spilling out. He didn’t look at anyone. Not because he needed to concentrate. No, this was fear—plain and simple. So, he’d focused on the salsa that had dropped on the table. The only other thing he did was keep flexing his fingers. He wasn’t sure why, but it helped him.
When he’d told them everything, he forced himself to glance around the table.
His friends stared at him with expressions ranging from disbelief to confusion.
Except for Wes. His nostrils flared. His narrowed lips matched his hard gaze.
That was unexpected.
And disappointing.
Blaise fought the urge to stand up and ask Wes what he was thinking because Blaise had thought—believed—Wes would understand, more so than anyone else.
Wrong.
That cut deep.
Blaise had screwed up. Wes’s response was proof of that. Blaise only hoped he could repair the damage.
“That’s everything.” He took another sip, gripping his glass like a lifeline, which probably was worrying his friends, so he loosened his hold and set the pint on the table. “I’m sorry for not telling you before. I… I wasn’t ready.”
“Dude.” Dash refilled Blaise’s glass. “Don’t apologize. What you went through sucks. Big-time. I’m just glad you feel comfortable telling us now. You mentioned a few things over the years, but none of us took the time to dig deeper. That’s on us, not you. I’m sorry for not being a better friend.”
Blaise’s jaw dropped. His ears rang. He couldn’t believe what Dash was saying. But he was relieved and thankful, oh so thankful, for having a friend like him.
“Out of the mouth of babes,” Adam murmured.
Kieran nodded. “Leave it to the Wonderkid.”
The others nodded except for Wes, whose eyes were dark and serious.
“I don’t get it.” Wes sounded confused and angry, annoyed and frustrated, too. “All those times at the hospital, hour after hour during my treatments, and you never thought to tell me about your parents.”
“Easy, big guy,” Mason cautioned.
“It’s okay,” Blaise said. Whatever Wes was feeling had to come out, too. “Go on, Wes.”
“That your mom and dad OD’d, and you found each of them.” Wes’s voice was strained. “You didn’t think we needed to know that in case you had an anxiety attack or PTSD or something?”
Shaking his head, Mason covered his mouth with his hand as if to keep himself from saying something he shouldn’t.
Adam rubbed the back of his neck.
Kieran blew out a breath. “Wes…”
“Some bad memories surfaced when I was at the hospital with you. I dealt with them.” Blaise had never lied to anyone. He’d just withheld some facts. “I wanted to be with you.”
“You were going through chemo,” Adam reminded Wes as if he could have forgotten. “Blaise wasn’t ready to discuss his parents. Even if he had been, he was there for your appointment. For you. And he didn’t lose it. He held himself together, which you should be proud of. I am.”
Adam’s words gave Blaise a much-needed boost. The way what Dash said had.
A vein throbbed at Wes’s jaw. Lines formed around his mouth. “What makes tonight the right time?”
