I glance at the Corolla still parked on the street.Someone I don’t recognize is waiting in the driver’s seat. “I guess when things are important, you find a ride.”
Red stains Mike’s cheeks, but his eyes flash with temper. “Don’t you dare judge me, Rob. You have noideawhat I’ve been going through. I borrowed some money from some guys I know so I could pay my rent and… and other stuff. But I need to pay them back, and?—”
“Yeah. That’s usually how loans work,” I interrupt. “Let me break this down into simple words, Mike. You’ve treated me like your ATM for years. That’s your choice. I put up with it way too long, hoping you’d change, and that was my choice. But now I’m making a different choice, to cut you out of my life. And if you don’t smarten up, your kids are gonna make that choice too. They don’t give a shit how much money you’re bringing in. They care about whether you love them. About whether you make them feel important. Do better.”
“I’m fuckingtrying—” Mike says.
I shake my head. “Stop trying. Go anddo it. Prove that you love them, for Christ’s sake.”
I don’t wait to see what Mike does. I climb into my truck with my hands shaking. By the time I pull out of the driveway a few minutes later, the Corolla is gone and Mike with it.
All I can think is,No wonder Ames can’t take me seriously when I spent years falling for Mike’s shit.I should have listened to him a long time ago.
But now I’m done talking. And I’ve decided I’m going to take my own advice. I don’t need to find the words to say to convince Ames to take a chance on us. I’m gonnaproveto Ames that I mean what I say.
Ames’s Find My Friends icon shows he’s at his apartment,and I spare a second for gratitude. If he’d fled to his parents’ house, I’d’ve had to drink lemonade and make small talk with Vivian for five or ten minutes before finding Ames and kissing the shit out of him… though, let’s be clear, I’d have done it.
Less than ten minutes later, I’m taking the stairs up to his apartment and knocking on his door, even as I open it with my spare key.
“Ames?” I call. “Ames Axford, get your ass?—”
Ames hurries into his living room, wide-eyed. He’s clearly just out of the shower because he’s got a towel wrapped around his waist, and he’s not wearing his sling.
“Rob? Why are you yelling? Is everything okay?”
Little drops of water drip off the ends of his dark hair and slide down the yellowing bruises on his chest to pool at the edge of the terry cloth. His tattoo shimmers in the harsh overhead light.
I want to tell him I’m very,veryokay, but when I open my mouth to speak, I can’t get any words out. I feel so damn much for him, it’s choking me.
“Robbie.” Ames says my name again, more like a warning this time, and shifts awkwardly. “I’m sorry I left?—”
“Stop,” I manage. “Stop talking.”
“Wh-what?”
I cross the room in three strides to get to him. Then, carefully, mindful of his injuries, I walk him back, back, back to the kitchen wall and cage him there between my arms.
“You are wrong, Ames,” I growl, low and rough. “So wrong. The wrongest you’ve been in sixteen years. More wrong than the time you said I’d lookstunningwith abuzz cut. More wrong than the time you convinced me the best way to get in Erin Lessard’s pants was to tell her I was ‘emotionally open’ to touching below the waist.”
Ames sputters out a laugh, but his blue eyes are flame-hot and still look wary. The combination of concern, lust, and amusement hits me like strong liquor, warming my stomach and burning off my fear.
“I want you, Ames,” I go on softly. “I want to be with you. I’m not confused, and I’m not scared. Got it?”
“I…” He swallows hard. “Yes. But?—”
I shake my head firmly. “No buts. If you’re scared or confused, that’s fine. I want to know it. But don’t pretend it’smefeeling those things. Because I am really fucking tired of people telling me what I should want. Especially since my best friend’s been trying to convince me for years that I’m allowed to want things and fight for them.”
Ames is breathing fast and staring at me like he’s never seen me before. His injured arm’s pressed to his chest, but the other holds the towel at his waist, clenching and unclenching nervously. His pretty blue eyes dart around me, taking in my shoulders, the arms braced on either side of him, and the look on my face.
“I just… I don’t want you to… to regret?—”
“I know my own mind. What I need right now is to know howyoufeel.” I dip my head and run my nose along the line of his jaw. He smellssofucking good. Like clean, musky bodywash. Like Ames. Like arousal. “Not what you think is best for me.”
“I want you,” Ames admits. “Fuck, of course I do. I always have?—”
“Is that so?” I tease. “’Cause the way I heard it, not every gay man’s attracted to his straight best friend.”
Ames thunks his head back against the wall so he can look me in the eye. “They’re not. ButIam.” He licks his lips nervously. “I want you, Rob. I’m not strong enough to walk away from you a second time, but?—”
