When I get back home I do something I never thought I would do. I get on my phone and download Grindr, because I have to get past this crush I have on my best friend and it’s the only way I know how. I’m not planning on hooking up, but I think it’s time I tried going on a date again, this time with a guy.
Two days later it’s Sunday and I am trying not to tell myself that this is everything I want. Me and Bentley, sitting in his apartment watchingSupernatural, him back to knitting, Marble curled up on the sofa between us as I sip at my tea.
It’s so fucking perfect. Well, almost perfect. If I could scoot a little closer, or reach over and press a kiss to his cheek, or squeeze his thigh... If I could run my fingers through that hair or tell him how breathtakingly beautiful he is.
But I can’t. Which is why I’m finally going on a date Thursday night. I’ve been chatting with a guy on Grindr that seems really nice and we agreed to dinner. I don’t even want to go because I’d much rather be spending time with Bentley doing exactly what we’re doing now. But I know it’s the right thing to do for both our sakes. Maybe if I meet another guy who sweeps me off my feet, I can enjoy my friend time with Bentley without secretly hoping for more.
“Alex?” I hear, and turn to face my friend who has a worried look on his face.
“Hmm?”
His brows furrow. “You okay? You’ve been quiet.”
“Yeah, of course,” I reply. “Just tired, I guess, and sore. Been working late a lot.” It’s true, I do feel all those things and I have been at the bar late over the past week, which I’m sure isn’t helping anything, so even though it’s not really the issue, it’s the only thing I can say.
He frowns. “You want me to give you a massage? It might help.”
Oh, holy mother of not good ideas, yes, I want that very very much. But, “No thanks,” I say. Because there’s no way I can let him put his big beautiful hands all over me without doing or saying something incredibly stupid. I’d get a raging hard on in seconds, and while I know that’s normal for guys, it would make me feel so icky.
“I hope you feel better soon,” he tells me when I leave a couple of hours later, taking Marble with me despite her protests.
“Thanks,” I say.
“See you Thursdaymorning?”
I nod and he closes the door.
Bentley
I’m worried about Alex. He hasn’t been himself ever since Peyton’s party and I don’t know why. I’m starting to wonder, though, if maybe he’s picked up on my feelings for him and is keeping his distance because it makes him uncomfortable? I mean, he’s still hanging out with me, but he was so spaced out on Sunday, and this morning he’s even more so. Plus, he clearly didn’t want me to touch him when I asked if he wanted a massage. And because I didn’t want to push anything, I didn’t even prop my feet in his lap when he was reading to me.
But instead of insisting I put my feet in his lap, and rubbing them like he always does, nothing. He’s been responding to my texts but normally he’d be bombarding me with gifs and memes related toSupernatural, hounding me for details, sharing facts about the books we’re reading or making plans for the upcoming weekend. None of that.
We’re at the gym now and he’s barely even talked to me since we got here. My chest is starting to constrict because I’m wondering how I fucked up and if there’s anything I can do to make it better. I can’t lose him.
“Hey,” I say, approaching him on the rowing machine. I do my best not to stare at his bulging biceps and toned thighs. “Are we okay?”
He blinks and stops rowing. Sweat covers his skin and dampens his dark hair. “Yeah, of course.”
“Are you sure? I feel like things are off with us and I don’t like it.”
He flushes and his gaze flits away. He clears his throat and then looks back at me. “I uh, I did need to tell you that I,” he clears his throat again. “I have a date tonight, so I can’t hang out.”
Fuck. Why does that hurt so goddamn much? My chest tightens and my throat constricts. “No problem,” I manage, my voice coming out as barely a whisper. Is he going on a date to make sure I know he isn’t interested in me and trying to draw that line, without saying it directly so he doesn’t hurt me? Message received, I guess. And Peyton was so sure he liked me, too. Even Pierre mentioned that he was pretty sure Alex had feelings for me when we were hanging out the other day. I honestly thought maybe I could try saying something to him if Pierre, and Peyton, and Tommy all thought the same thing, but then he was sick at Peyton’s party, and Sunday he was just being weird, and definitely didn’t want me touching him, and I thought, maybe not. Now I’m really glad I didn’t say anything because apparently I would have been turned down.
I don’t know why I’m asking this because I don’t want to know, but I find myself saying, “What’s her name?”
His flush deepens and he runs a hand through his sweaty hair. “Hisname is Greg.”
Fuck, my knees almost give out as his words sink in.Hisname? It’s a guy? Fuck, so he is into guys, just not into me. The knowledge hits me like a ton of bricks and I find myself holding back tears.
“So I’ll see you on Sunday, though, right?” Alex says.
“Yeah, sure,” I reply, forcing a smile. “I’m gonna head to the shower.” I walk away as quickly as I can.
As soon as I’m under the warm water, I let the tears fall.
Chapter Fifteen
