“Yeah, probably should,” Xander agrees, raising off the couch, grabbing the tequila and bringing it in the kitchen, while I grab the shot glasses and do the same.
As soon as I’m in my room—well, notmyroom, since I don’t live here—the floodgates open. This is becoming a nightly occurrence… fucking cry about my pathetic life before bed. I hate it. I hate this reaction Nathaniel gets to pull from me, while he’s probably not even the least bit bothered by our breakup.
For all I know, he’s got someone over right now—maybe even the same guy from the other day—in our bed, rolling around in the sheets we bought together. The thought makes my stomach churn.
“Hey, man, did you—” Xander shoves the door open, standing in the entrance, brow immediately furrowing. Whatever he was about to say dies on his tongue as he sees me looking, I’m sure, like a fucking mess, with tear tracks and a snotty nose. “What’s wrong?”
I sit down on the edge of the bed, a hiccup catching in my throat. “Nothing, I’m fine. I just do this sometimes lately.”
Xander crosses the room, kneeling before me, his hands planted on my knees. “You know I’m here for you, right?”
I nod.
“I’m serious, Trav. Breakups fucking suck, and what you’re dealing with is heavy. I know it’s hard. It’s okay to talk about it and get it off your chest. I’d never judge you.”
Peering over at him, he’s watching me carefully, and I can tell he means what he says a hundred percent. “Thank you, Xan. I really fucking appreciate that. And appreciate you letting me crash here.”
“Dude, of course. What are friends for?” He stands, tapping my shoulder. “Now, come here. Hug it out.”
Standing up, he pulls me into his embrace, and it feels so good to be hugged. Physical touch is my love language. Something about it always soothes me. I bury my wet face in his neck, trying not to cringe about the fact that I’m getting my snot and tears all over his skin. The hug lasts longer than it probably should, but I don’t want to let go.
When we do finally pull away, it happens so fast. One moment, we’ve got our arms wrapped around each other in a friendly hug, and the next, my hands cup his face as my lips seal down onto his. I shouldn’t do this. He’s my best friend, and we’ve been drinking, butfuck,his lips feel so good pressed against mine.
My tongue swipes along the seam, and he miraculously opens for me, letting me slip inside and glide along his, despite his still-stiff body. Xander kisses me back only briefly before pulling away. His brows knit together, fingers coming up to brush against his slick lips.
“Trav—” He takes a step back, putting some much-needed distance between us. “You don’t want this. I know you’re hurting and want to take the pain away, but this isn’t the way to do it. You’d wake up and regret it, and I can’t let you do that to yourself.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” I mumble, hands thrusting into my hair as the room spins from the tequila. “I’m so, so sorry, man.”
“No, don’t even apologize. It’s not a big deal. Just… get some sleep, okay?”
I nod, climbing into bed as he leaves the room, shutting the door softly behind him. Scrubbing a hand over my face, I groan into my palm. I can’t believe I just did that. What a fucking dick move.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I have every intention of plugging it in to charge, and then pass out. But something larger than me is calling to me, telling me to do something I know I shouldn’t do.
But I should.
I very much should.
I’m going to.
Pulling up Nathaniel’s contact, I hit call. I bring it up to my ear and listen as it rings and rings and rings. Of course, he doesn’t answer. He’s probably balls deep inside some rebound. Someone who is better than me. Hotter than me. More laid back than me.
Someone who isn’t me.
When his voice filters through the speaker, his voicemail picking up, I know I should hang up. In no universe is me leaving a voicemail for him a good idea. Of course, me being me, with the tequila clouding my judgement, I don’t hang up. And when the beep sounds, letting me know the recording has started, I let it all out.
I tell him what a piece of fucking shit he is. How badly he hurt me. How I thought we’d spend our lives together. I even tell him how that special thing he does with his fingers in bed that he thinks is sooooo good, isn’t that good at all.
That part’s a lie. Of course, it’s that good.
By the time I hang up, moisture pools on my cheeks and I can barely breathe through the sobs. I plug the phone in, climb under the covers, and pass out. Not a single dream in sight tonight. I finally exhausted myself enough for true sleep.
5
TRAVIS
It’s been a little over two weeks since my life was upended and me and Nathaniel broke up. I ended up taking an entire week off work to allow myself to justfeeland to give myself time to grieve the loss of the future I thought I had.
