Twenty-One
I kept going back to his message all night long, beginning to write some bullshit answers several times, and hitting delete before finishing each one. I’m hiding from the truth myself. I can give him all the answers I’ve told myself but I’ll be leaving out the main reason every time.
I’m here because I want his perfect boyfriend to be more wrong for him than I am. It’s fucked up. This doesn’t mean I don’t want the best for him, because I do. He deserves everything good in the world but I can’t stop wanting to be the one to give it to him. But what if everyone else is right and I really can’t? What if Prince Charming really is the better option?
Then I’ll be on my way, and go back to keeping my distance. He hasn’t stopped sending me messages, and I hadn’t been able to stop myself from unblocking him to confirm whether he had. I also missed those “I need you” messages too much. Those words are being said less and less these days, though.
Is it because he’s saying them to someone else now? Is Glen truly all he needs? Why did he look so lost and sad then? Why did the love between them only appear to be one-sided? Did me being so close make him feel bad for showing his true feelings for Glen?
When I arrive at my parents’ house, the sun has gone from hot to boiling on my exposed skin. Everything is exactly how I remember. Blue flowers appear from the bushes under the windows, and a brown wooden rocking chair sits on the faded-blue porch with a pillow held up against the armrest, reading “Home Sweet Home.” The pink stone path leading to the house holds a few cracks and wear, and I pick up my strides when the front door opens.
The pillow’s words have never felt more true when I gaze into a pair of stunned blue eyes I could get lost in for days.
“What are you doing here?” Nate straightens his neck, holding on tightly to the gold door knob as if needing it to help him stay up right.
“I told you I was coming for dinner,” I say, inching closer and staring down at his unmoving hand blocking me from entering the house and escaping the thickening heat.
“Yes, but dinner isn’t for another few hours. You’re really early.”
“And so are you.” I smile smugly. “What can I say? I hate hotel rooms and wanted to see if my old room really was still the same.”
“It is,” he snaps, anger vibrating through his words. I don’t blame him. I told him I’d always be here for him but I haven’t been in a long time. Watching from a distance wasn’t good enough, and he’s letting me know that with his short responses and daggering stares.
“You going to let me see for myself, or what?” My lips curl and he nods, stepping back.
“Be my guest. Mom and Dad won’t be home from work for a while. I only had one virtual appointment today since the second person canceled on me.”
“Virtual appointment? Does that mean you went on to being a therapist after all?”
“Yes. Some of us stay true to our words.” He slams the door shut behind me, shaking the pictures on the walls. None of them have me in them and I feel like I’ve intruded on the wrong family. Nate is smiling with Glen in one and fishing with Dad in another.
The perfect, do-good fiancé somehow earned his place in those frames over me. Although I did typically shy away from photos unless Nate was the cameraman. As I’m about to question my true place in this house, that’s when I spot it. On the fireplace mantle rests a photo of me and Nate on graduation day, right next to one of us dressed for prom. I smile, running my fingers over the frame and tracing the happiness displayed on both our faces.
“I thought you wanted to see your room?”
I turn around, tilting my head, and ignore the itch in my fingers to reach out and touch him. “Yeah, but I figured I’d take a trip down memory lane first and see what other important memories Dad’s captured while I was gone.”
“You walked past my college graduation photo.” I think back to the photo of him and Glen, remembering the cap and gown he was sporting. Of course Mr. Perfect was there for one of the most important days of his life. Why does he act like he needed me there too? He replaced me and the evidence is everywhere. How long did he wait to truly move on?
I know he dated months after me leaving, telling me all about where he went and sharing embarrassing moments. He also mentioned how unsatisfied he was each time and I’m waiting for him to do it again with this guy. Why was he the lucky one who got to stay? And did he make Nate squirm and moan the way I did whenever I kissed his sensitive spots?
“I saw it. You and Glen really are the perfect couple.”
“Is that really what you think?” He scrutinizes me with his eyes.
“Yes, but even in things that are perfect, hidden flaws lie ready to be unburied.”
“Is that why you’re here? To try and unbury them? You’re still trying to save me from the world, aren’t you?” he shouts. “Well, I don’t need you to. You came to congratulate me and now you can return to your farm.”
“And I will once my visit is over.”
“I waited for you.” His voice shakes. “I waited and waited. Did you even care at all?”
My stomach shifts, his sadness spreading across my chest like a thousand knives. “Do you really want me to answer that question?”
“Yes. Why did you stay away for so long? Why did you break your promises?”
“I didn’t want to. It was better that I did, though. Look how well you’re doing. You have everything you could ever want.”
“But I don’t have you.” His words cut deep into my heart, slicing it right in half.
“You don’t need me. Especially when you have him now. He seems good for you.”
He looks down at his shuffling feet. “He is. Too good. He deserves more than I can give him. Someone who’s not already hopelessly in love with someone else.” He peers back up at me, holding my stare.
“Nate.”
“If you plan to leave again, why not get it over with? Why drag it on and leave more memories behind for me to sulk in?” His eyes water, and he slaps my hand away the way he did yesterday when I tried to offer him some comfort by running my fingers over his skin. Would I have stopped there, though? I’m not sure I would have been able to. Not with the way he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth and how the curling tips of his hair begged my fingers to tug on them.
“I’m not leaving because I want to. I’m leaving because—”
“Save me the bullshit.” He lifts a shaky hand between us. “I don’t want to hear how you’re doing this for me. How you’re trying to do the right thing. Because you and I . . .” He points between us, jabbing me in the chest. “Were never wrong. We weren’t.”
“Mom wouldn’t agree. Most people wouldn’t. Glen wouldn’t either.”
He laughs mockingly, shaking his head. “Why do you keep bringing him up in this?”
“Because he’s your fiancé, and if he knew about us he would never have written me that email. He would never have suggested I stay with you so we could reconnect.”
“He comforted me on my worst days, you know. He forced me back into the world on days I wanted to shut it all away.” His voice grew smaller and I wanted nothing more than to take him in my arms. “Do you plan on showing up for the wedding too? Or are you going to disappear for another seven years?”
“I don’t know yet.” He inches closer, the air growing thin between us and the smell of his shampoo clouding my better judgement. He’s right, if I’m going to leave anyway, I might as well get it over with. Which is so damn hard to do when everything in me is screaming to stay. When his needy stares are begging me to stay. He says we were never wrong, and I want to believe that more than anything. But I can’t stop seeing the disappointment in my mom’s eyes. I can’t stop seeing the worry and blame she held for me at dinner last night. I’m not sure I’ll be able to erase it from my memory if she does it again tonight either. And I don’t think I could handle him looking at me the same way when he discovers how I’ve been quieting my nightmares.
“I’m still waiting for you, Jace,” he whispers against my lips. “I don’t know how to stop.”
“I’m right here.”
“No you aren’t. Not in the way you should be.” He lets out a breath, rubbing the back of his head. “You should go do what you said you came here to do. Mom really did keep your room exactly the same.”
“You go in there often or something?” I say, tugging at his arm when he tries to walk away.
“I . . .” He nibbles on his bottom lip, unable to meet my eyes. “Yeah. Every time I come here.”
My heart flutters and I run my fingers through his hair, not being stopped this time. I tug at the soft strands and he tilts his head back, releasing a soft moan.
“I don’t want to leave you. I’ve never wanted to leave you. But you deserve so much more than me. Someone who’s not as flawed and broken.”
His eyes flash open and he holds on to my wrist. “The man I’m looking at now is none of those things.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, wishing what he said was true. The nightmares prove otherwise. So do everyone’s wary eyes every time I enter a room full of familiar faces in this town. Why won’t he see what he’s supposed to see? If he did, leaving him again would be a lot easier. The pull between us is stronger than ever. An invisible string connects us, immediately synching back together no matter how many times I cut at it.
A loud beep sounds outside and we both drop our hands, breaking away from each other like the old days. Some things really don’t change, do they?
The front door snicks open and Dad appears, smiling. “Jace. You really came. Mom is going to be really happy to have both her boys in the house at the same time again.”
Is she? Doubt nudges its ugly head into my gut. “Yeah, I’m here and will be for the next three days. I let everyone know I’ll be back by Monday. They all ensured they could survive without me for a little while.”
“And I’m sure they can.” My dad squeezes my arm. “It’s really good to have you back, son. Hopefully these visits will become a habit.”
“They just might,” I say with way too much hope in my voice. Nate flashes me a look before turning away to walk toward the kitchen.
“I’m gonna get me a drink. Anyone want anything?”
“I’ll join you.” I jump forward, earning a wide-eyed expression from him.
“I’m okay,” Dad says, setting down his briefcase. “I’m going to be in my office for the next hour grading papers. If you boys need anything, feel free to come knocking.”
Dad disappears down the short hall and I follow Nate into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he grabs himself a bottle of water and hands me a Coke.
I hold the cold can in my hand, tilting my head.
“What? I was curious to see if you still drank them.”
“On occasion.” I pop the top, taking a long sip. “I’m more of a sweet-tea guy these days.”
“What else has changed?” He closes the fridge, turning fully my way.
“Not too much.” Not anything that matters. My heart continues to beat only for him. My skin yearns for him to press against it and I haven’t stopped searching out his body in my sleep.
“Something tells me that isn’t true. Are you seeing anyone out there?”
“Why? Would you be jealous if I was?” I say with a little humor etched in my voice.
He scoffs. “Hardly.” His eyes narrow in on me. “Are you jealous of Glen?”
“Hardly,” I say back, wearing a shit-eating grin.
His face hardens and he steps back. “You ever going to go see that room of yours?”
“Sure. After you show me yours. I want to see if yours is the same too.”
“You don’t need to see mine.” He quickly turns away from me, leaning against the counter and pretending to look out the window.
“Maybe not, but will you show me anyway?”
“Are you going to want a tour of the bathroom next?” he asks with sarcasm laced in his tone as he turns his head slightly.
“Maybe. Depends on whether Mom ended up getting that wallpaper she always talked about.”
A laugh rushes out of him and the light, welcoming sound lasts longer than it did yesterday. The perfect melody in my ears. I’m glad to know he hasn’t lost that part of him because of me.
“Let’s get this little tour of yours over with then.” He walks back into the living room and I follow, nearly running into him several times as we head up the stairs.
Tan carpet has replaced the wooden floor on each step we walk up, leading all the way to our rooms. New decor is scattered across the walls and there’s a plant in the corner I don’t recognize. Nate leads us into his room first, and the only thing that’s changed are the curtains. Hanging above his bed and covering his window are the same sets he texted me a picture of. They’re tacky in person, managing to drag another smile from me. As awful as they are, they’re perfect.
I run my hands along the too-busy pattern, sparks bouncing between us when his fingers touch a spot so close to mine our skin brushes together.
“I brought them here after I moved out of the apartment. I thought they belonged here. Where we were last together.”
A flutter settles in my stomach and I trace above his wedding band. “They’re perfect.”
His lips twitch in the corners and he leaves his hand where it is, allowing me to drag my fingers along the pulse point of his wrist. I’ve kissed him there plenty of times before, his skin the perfect mixture of salty and sweet on my tongue.
“You wouldn’t have changed them if you’d come home?”
“I’m not sure what I’d have done then, but I know I wouldn’t change them now. I actually think they’d look great in my office.”
“You have an office?”
“Kinda.” I shrug. “The closest thing to one. It’s in the old barn. Uncle Judd had no use for it anymore so I turned it into my own space. I even sleep in there sometimes, on a cheap futon. I like being close to the animals. Their sounds might keep others up at night but I find them soothing.”
“I could see that. I mean, they did invent frog machines for a reason,” he teases, giving me more of his arm to caress, to mark up with my skin.
“I need to stop,” I say, sliding my fingers under the sleeve of his shirt, touching slightly above his nipple.
His body quivers, breaths short and fast. “You should.”
“I need you to stop me,” I say between pants, tracing around his areola.
“I’ve never been good at it before. What makes you think I would be now?” His bright blue eyes darken, lips parting as he sucks in a breath from me tugging at the hard nub.
“And I’ve never been able to resist you.”
“I never asked you to,” he says between soft moans, writhing against my hip. His cock digs into my inner thigh as I turn more into him and brush my lips along his collar bone, licking a stripe into his skin.
His fingers slide into my hair and his lips pause in front of mine. “Why did you really come here?”
“Because deep down inside I was hoping you didn’t really move on from me.”
“I didn’t. I can’t. I’ve tried so many times.”
“Why would you do that if it doesn’t feel wrong?” I rasp, holding him at a distance when he tries to bring his mouth closer.
“I did it for you. I tried for you. I thought it was the only way I could at least have my brother back.”
I rub my nose over his, pressing our foreheads together. “You’ve always had me.” I shove him back into the bathroom, closing the door behind us before pressing his back to the shower glass. “I’ve never stopped wanting to be yours in every way, and that’s the problem.”
“Is it?” His breaths are hot on my neck. “Because I don’t see one. In fact, all problems disappear whenever I’m with you.” He claims my mouth with his, thrusting his tongue alongside mine. His hand slides up my shirt, fingers pressing to my skin as he deepens the kiss and I lose myself in the warmth of his mouth. Breaths heavy and syncing together, our teeth clash. When his hand slides between us, reaching for my belt, I stop him, pushing at his chest with my palm.
“You have a fiancé.”
His eyes blink rapidly, and he runs a hand through his hair. “I . . . That could be changed. I would never have said yes if you’d shown up sooner.”
“I’m glad you did,” I lie. “He’s what you need. Not me. I do want to be in your life again but it shouldn’t be like this.”
“How should it be then? You watching me marry someone else and me picturing your face on my honeymoon?”
“You need a brother. That’s what you need from me. You have him for everything else. You told him yes after all.”
“Because you weren’t here. Because I thought you were no longer an option.”
“You need to keep thinking that way then. Because I’m not.” I exit the bathroom, adjusting myself in my pants, and he stays where he is, not moving when I sit on the edge of his bed to stare at the hearts with our initials inside carved at the ends of his bed post. Not moving when I stand up and look toward the bathroom, waiting for him to walk out to argue with me some more.
Feeling like my feet are too heavy for the rest of my body, I stand in the doorway, and struggle to cross the threshold when I hear his cries echoing. My heart twists, my chest caving from the pain. I’m doing this for him. I’m going to let him marry Glen and stop thinking of me in the wrong way. If I stay and entertain what we were doing in the bathroom again, that’ll make me selfish, because I’ll be keeping him all to myself again, for me.
This is what’s right, and sometimes the best thing you can do will tear you apart before you learn to appreciate the outcome. I force one foot in front of the other, taking a deep breath as I walk into the next room.
He’s right. My mom kept it exactly the same. The bedding, curtains, and System of The Down posters. Everything. Closing my eyes, I inhale the scent of him lingering everywhere around me. He really did come in here a lot. Often enough to leave so much of himself behind.
A hand rests on my arm and I crane my neck, my eyes held captive by his. They’re wet and shining from the light breaking through the parting curtains. “Will you at least come stay with me? We can watch movies. Do brother stuff only. Just like you want.”
“I . . . I don’t know. I had a long flight here and didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“After all these years you’re still a terrible liar. What about tomorrow?”
His bottom lip twitches and it was what he did when he knew I wasn’t going to let him have his way easily. “Yeah, sure. Okay. Tomorrow only. I’ll crash here after that. Then I can see if my Playstation still works.”
“We can always take it to my house and try it there?” His voice trembles.
“Or we can play now while we wait for Mom?”
His lips shift from side to side and he nods. “Yeah, okay, but if you die before I do then you’ll come stay with me tonight.”
I sit next to him, reaching for the remote in his hand with my lips twisting. Not using words, I slump my shoulders in defeat, waving my head back and forth with a loud breath pushing out of my lips as I hit the “on” button on the TV remote.
A faint smile plays on his lips because he knows he’s finally gotten his way, and it feels way too good letting him.