No, I look for my flip flops, grab my keys, and pull a Markus Favre by running from the confrontation that is about to happen.
“Norm,” Pete grunts as I push past him. “Don’t leave.”
I pat the pockets of my basketball shorts in search of my wallet, come up empty handed, then start tearing the kitchen apart when I pass it.
“Norman, you live here, man. Don’t leave, just talk to me.”
Shaking my head, I dump the junk drawer, tears stinging my nose and throat while I frantically try to get as far away from this conversation as possible.
I haven’t had it with anyone but my therapist, and I definitely don’t want to have it with this stoic, unblinking, generally unfeeling dude I frequently cuddle with. Because that’s gotten real fucked up over the last few years, and the first night back at Leo’s was the first time we’d done it in forever because of it.
I blame the high from getting our girl back.
Marching past Pete again, I head toward the living room, searching under tables, down in the armchairs. I shove the ottoman out of the way and move to the couch when a strong but gentle grip on my bicep stops me.
“Hey,” Pete says as he turns me to face him. “What the hell is going on, Norm?”
I shake my head again and refuse to look at him, angrily wiping the tears that managed to slip down my cheeks with the heel of my hand. I can’t do this with him, with anyone, not when I can’t even fully express or explain it to myself.
With a sigh, Pete tugs me toward the couch, pulling me down with him as he sits. “Talk to me, man. Please.”
“I can’t,” I whisper, still avoiding eye contact.
“Why not? You’ve always been able to talk to me?—“
“Not about this. I can’t talk to anyone about this.”
Pete sets the bottle of water based lube between us as he shifts around, and if I wasn’t so embarrassed, so angry and confused, I’d laugh at that.
“Why is this different, then?”
“It just is.” Even if he is right. I’ve never not been able to talk to him or anyone else in the band about anything, and something like this shouldn’t be any different. And I don’t want to get into thewhybehind that.
Pete blows out a breath as he starts twisting his dreads up into a bun. “I wasn’t making fun of you, if that’s what you think.”
I scoff through my tears. “Sure.”
“I wasn’t, I would never make fun of you for something like that.”
Turning to face him, I lift my brow and give him thebullshitlook. “You made fun of me when I prematurely nutted all over that redhead’s face six years ago. Even though we were all rolling on ecstasy and watching porn in the dressing room before they let the groupies in.”
“Well, yeah, ok you got me there, but it was more because of how pissed she was. Girl wanted bragging rights to one of us and all she got was an eyeful of jizz.”
“Yeah,” I say with a snort. “So forgive me if I thought you were going to razz me over this.”
“I wasn’t though, Norm.” Pete finishes his hair and looks me in the eye again. “I wouldn’t for that, it’s not the same.”
“Great, got it. Not judging me or making fun of me for the fake dick. Thanks. End of conversation.”
Pete shakes his head. “Why?Why did you get so upset, why are you refusing to?—“
“You really want to know?” I snap as I get to my feet and start to pace. “You want all the juicy details? If it means never talking about this again, fine.”
Instead of saying literallyanythingin response to that, Pete leans back into the awful floral couch, spreads his legs then motions for me to continue like a jackass before draping his arms over the back of it.
“Because it’swrong,Pete.” A muscle in his jaw ticks at that and I know exactly why. “Don’t make this about you or Luck, or anyone else. This is about me, why I have that, and why I don’t want to talk about it.”
He gives me a curt nod and I keep going. “You want to know when I realized I actuallylikedanal? When the lightbulb clicked on in my brain and it felt good? About two weeks into getting raped regularly in prison.” Pete flinches but I just keep going. “I didn’t like that; how incredibly rough they were, how I didn’t have a say or give my consent. I didn’t like it when they’d take turns and make me bleed, when I’d end up in the infirmary for any number of things.”
