“God, stop talking.”
A small partof me is happy to discover that his discomfort level is as high as mine. It feels like proof that maybe we can survive this. “I will if you agree to go. You can’t just isolate yourself on this mountain forever.”
“Can I not?” he asks rhetorically.
“How well has it been working for you so far?” I ask, leaning back until I’m next to him, our shoulders touching.
He hugs the pillow to his chest and sighs.
“You’re kind of annoying as a rational adult, you know that?” he says with a grin.
“How’s that any different from when I was a kid?” I tease.
He ignores my comment and says, “So when are we going?”
“How about Saturday? It’ll be our last chance for a while.”
When he finally agrees, I head for the stairs, pausing at the bottom.
“Thank you for telling me, Stone. You shouldn’t have to hide that part of yourself. No one should.”
“Excuse me?!”Chase yells into the phone. We’re guys. We don’t catch up via chats on the phone; we send texts and then ignore said texts for six or seven days, andthenanswer. This is the first time I’ve heard Chase’s voice since moving out to Montana. This morning, I’d answered one of Chase’s earlier texts by telling him things were good, and I’d moved in with Stone…he just read it and called because apparently, this conversation is worth a phone call.
If only he knew the half of it.
“My roommates were partiers, and Stone knows that’s not my style. He also knows how much my sleep schedule impacts literally every other facet of my life,” I explain, making it sound like no bigdeal.
“No, heusedto know that. He doesn’t know shit about you anymore, remember?” Chase says through the line.
“We’re making it work. We’re actually going out tonight. Ought to be fun.”
I don’t tell Chasewherewe’re going orwhywe’re going because I’m certainly not going to out Stone, but the sentiment is the same…Stone and I are voluntarily hanging out.
“You’re going out? Together? Onpurpose?” Chase clarifies.
“Yes.”
“I don’t trust him, Han. Don’t let that prick hurt you again. It’s been four years. He could’ve picked up the phone at any point, but he didn’t.”
I hadn’t realized that I’d actually gotten my hopes up, that somewhere in the few days between Stone coming out and us hitting the lounge tonight, my subconscious thoughts had begun to travel down the suicidal path of ‘what if?’
What ifStone is attracted to me like apparently, I am to him?
What ifour being together isn’t as taboo and shameful as I think it is?
What ifthis thing between us could actually work?
What ifeveryone we know and love would accept it?
But it’s clear from this conversation with Chase that my brain is a sonofabitch hellbent on sabotaging my sanity.
“Yeah, I hear you,” I say, not wanting to argue. “I’ll let you know how it goes,” I lie, already knowing whatever happens tonight will most likely never be spoken of again—at least not by me. This will be Stone’s story to tell.
I hang up the phone, heading for the stairs to get changed for the night ahead, and run straight into Stone.
“Shit. Sorry,” I mumble in a raspy voice, bouncing off his chest.
“It’s all good,” Stone says, eyeing me for a secondtoo long.
