Chapter Twelve
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jonny
“We need to talk,” Mason said as soon as we stepped into the kitchen. I’d barely put my bag down and I was already being cornered. I’d had a suspicion something was coming given his and West’s secrecy after the match and the fact West had fucking followed us home. If they were trying to be subtle, they were failing miserably.
“No, we don’t,” I said as I slid off my trainers. Whatever they had to say about my behaviour today, I didn’t want to hear it.
“John Andrew Gregory, get your ass in one of those chairs. Now,” West said sharply, pointing at our dining room table where we played D&D. His usual calm, warm demeanour was gone as he glared at me, his physical presence suddenly filling the kitchen and reminding me how big he was. We weren’t far off each other height-wise, but West had at least twenty kilograms on me and I wouldn’t put it past him to physically drag me to a chair if he was pissed.
“Fine, I’m going.” I stomped over to one of the chairs, pulling it out and sitting down with all the dramatics of a sulky teenager. West and Mason grabbed two of the other chairs and dragged them around to sit in front of me, effectively pinning me in place against the table. In the background over Mason’s shoulder, I could see Ryan putting something in the oven and doing a piss-poor job of pretending he wasn’t listening. “What the hell is this about? Is this about my yellow card? Because this feels like a fucking overreaction.”
“It’s not,” West said, folding his broad arms across his chest.
“Well, it kind of is,” Mason said as he leant forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees as he gazed at me with a cold, hard stare. “It’s about your behaviour recently. Because you can deny it all you want but you’ve been a proper dickhead lately and I’m fucking sick of it.”
“This is bollocks,” I said, anger rising in my chest. “I’m not twelve. I don’t have to listen to this.” I stood up and went to move through them but West was out of his seat before I could blink, his large hand landing on the middle of my chest and pushing me back into my chair.
“Sit down,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “You might think this is bollocks but this is exactly what we mean. Your attitude is starting to affect all of us, especially Devon.”
“Devon?” West’s use of his name caught me off guard and I dropped back into my seat like a stone. “What about him?”
“Oh, come off it,” Mason said. “You’ve been fighting with him for weeks.”
“We’re not fighting.”
“Okay then, let me rephrase it. You’re being a twat and making him fucking miserable because you can’t get over yourself about him going out with Peaches.”
His words were an icy sting and it felt like I’d been slapped. The idea that I was hurting Devon… deep down I’d known my behaviour was affecting him, I’d seen it in his face and the way he’d started to tense up around me, but for Mason to say it like that was a knife to my heart.
“I just don’t want him dating assholes,” I said sullenly, folding my arms and looking between them. “Is that so wrong?”
“We all know it’s not about that,” Mason said, frustration lacing his voice and writing itself across his face.
“You’re jealous,” West added. “You hate the idea of him spending time with anyone who isn’t you and you’re lashing out.”
I tried to think of some sort of quick retort, but nothing would come out of my mouth. It was like my tongue was frozen in place. How the hell had they managed to pinpoint my emotions like that? I guessed it wasn’t hard. They were smart men who knew me well and I hadn’t exactly been subtle.
Even so, I hadn’t figured out that I might be jealous until last night. Was I really so unaware of my own feelings that everyone else knew how I felt before me?
I wasn’t going to even think about answering that. Especially because I’d seen it happen with other people. We’d all known Mason was in love with Ryan for weeks before he’d said anything. And as much as I wanted to believe that was different, it was the only example I could think of.
Maybe I just needed to stop thinking at all.
“I’m not… it’s not…” I sighed. “Maybe I am.”
“I don’t think there’s much maybe about it,” Mason said gently. “If you weren’t jealous, you wouldn’t be acting like this.”
“Yeah but, why would I be jealous?” I asked desperately, looking between the two of them and then Ryan, who was standing in the kitchen pretending to peel potatoes. Ryan saw me looking and smiled at me softly, a sympathetic look on their face.
“Do you really want me to answer that?” Ryan asked, walking over to us and leaning on Mason’s shoulder. “Because I think, deep down, you already know.”
“Have you been talking to Peaches?” The two of them were good friends, so it wasn’t a stretch to imagine they’d been swapping information. I didn’t like the idea of Peaches spilling Devon’s secrets to Ryan, but I was trying to think better of him since apparently I’d been a right cunt lately.
God, even in my own head I was trying to justify my behaviour.
“A little but it wouldn’t matter either way,” Ryan said. “Like I said, you already know the answer. And I promise you it’s okay.”
“What do you… oh…” Mason said, suddenly inhaling and smacking his thighs as he looked at Ryan with wide eyes and an open mouth. “Oh!”
“Do I want to know what conclusion you’ve come to?” I asked, hoping he’d say no because I desperately didn’t want to hear the words come out of his mouth. I’d barely managed to figure it out myself and I was still running from the realisation that was threatening to turn my world upside down.
“You’re jealous because you like Devon!” Mason grinned triumphantly while Ryan sighed and muttered something about tact and West stared at him.
“He’s my best mate. Of course I like him.”
“Don’t be an arse. You know what I mean. West agrees with me.”
“Does he?” I asked as I looked at West, who was now frowning and nodding like he’d put all the pieces together.
“It would make sense,” he said slowly as he turned to Mason. “But we can’t tell Jonny how he feels. He has to figure that out for himself.”
“He’s also sitting right here,” I said pointedly, gesturing at myself. My heart was racing, my head reeling at the idea they’d figured it out so fast.
I didn’t want to admit it.
Couldn’t admit it.
Because if it was true…
It would mean I had feelings for my best friend, the one man I loved above everyone else and the person I couldn’t bear the thought of losing. He meant more to me than my family, my job, my friends—nothing else in my life was even vaguely comparable.
And I had no way of knowing if he felt the same or if I’d somehow fallen for the perfect man but the one who’d never want me. Just because Devon was gay didn’t mean he’d be interested. After all, we’d been friends for so long, surely he’d have said something?
Then again, maybe not. It wasn’t like I’d shown much interest in dating or sex beyond a few unsatisfactory hook-ups, and he’d both listened to me talk about my disinterest and had seen me pick up girls when he’d been back in the UK during the summers, so why would he have ever wanted to pursue me?
But the thought of him being with anyone else…
Seeing him with Peaches in my dream had been bad enough, but if it happened in reality, I didn’t think I’d be able to endure the pain.
“Well,” West said. “How do you feel?”
“You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want,” Ryan added, reaching out to put his hand on West’s shoulder. “But we’re here for you.”
“Oh yes he does,” Mason said with a cynical smile. I thought he was joking but only just. “He doesn’t get to act like a dickhead and then clam up. I want to know the truth.”
“Baby, I love you but be quiet,” Ryan said, kissing his head and jabbing his chest. “Jonny gave us a lot of space to figure our shit out and we owe him the same.”
“You’re being very noble for someone I know is dying to know. You love gossip,” Mason said, tilting his head up to beg for a kiss. The pair of them could give Rory and West a run for the most sickening couple but for once it didn’t make me roll my eyes. It made me resentful.
I wanted that.
For the first time in my life, I wanted someone to look at me the way Ryan was looking at Mason.
Except I didn’t want it to be anyone. I wanted it to be Devon.
“I think I have feelings for Devon,” I said. It was a simple statement, nothing more. But it felt like I’d confessed state secrets. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”
“And how’s that?” Ryan asked.
“Like… like if I lose him, I might die. Like if I have to watch him fall in love with someone else, then nothing else will be worth it. Like if I have to think about him shagging Peaches one more time, I’m going to put a fucking hole in the wall.” I exhaled shakily, well aware that these weren’t soft, sweet, romantic feelings. They were possessive, messy, and ugly—the sort of things you shouldn’t confess to. But pretending they didn’t exist was part of the reason I’d gotten into this mess in the first place. I’d never thought of myself as a jealous person before, but now I seemed to be filled with nothing but an endless, raging volcano of it.
“Shit the bed,” Mason said. “That’s—”
“A lot? Yeah, I know.”
“I’m guessing this is all pretty new?” West asked. “Both the jealousy and the potential queerness?”
“Yeah, you could say that.” I let out a hoarse chuckle and groaned. “Like I said, I’ve never felt this way about anyone, ever. The strong emotions you all talk about feeling for your partners, even your exes? I’ve never had that. I thought maybe one day it might happen, but it never really bothered me, you know? And now, it feels like I’ve had a fuck ton of feelings dumped on top of me without warning, and I have no fucking idea how to deal with them.”
“You’re not going to like the answer,” Ryan said with another smile that radiated patience. But not pity. More like an understanding and a sad acknowledgement that they were about to suggest more pain. “You have to talk to him.”
“Can’t I just pretend this isn’t happening and wait for it to go away?” It was another bad attempt at a joke that fell flatter than a pancake. Deep down, I already knew the answer. It didn’t mean I had to like it, though.
“Not if you’re thinking about putting holes in our wall,” Mason said. “I’m not paying more money for this place than I have to, and we don’t know any builders to fix it for cheap. You can grow up and talk to him.”
“Doesn’t have to be tonight,” West said quickly. “In fact, I think it might be better if you give yourself a night to calm down and process. Think about what you’re going to say. Being impulsive sounds good but it doesn’t always end well, and if you’re both tired and frustrated…”
“We want this to end well,” Mason said with a nod. “Have some food, do some stretching, watch a film with us, play some games, just get out of your head for a bit.”
“And if you want to talk, we can do that,” Ryan said. “You said it yourself—this is a lot but you don’t have to go through it alone.”
“Thanks.” I shot him a brief smile and nodded. They’d made a lot of good points, and I had to agree that going now probably wouldn’t end well. There was a buzzing under my skin and I felt like I was two seconds away from being shocked, my pulse racing like I was in some sort of horror movie. How was I supposed to talk to Devon when all I could feel was fear? If he said no…
“Come and help me make dinner,” Ryan said, their words cutting through my spiralling emotions. “West, are you staying?”
“Are you sure? Aren’t you at The Court tonight?”
“Not tonight, it’s my week off. Then next week we’ve got a variety show.”
“Oh yeah, Rory’s been prepping for weeks.”
“That’s settled then. You’ll stay,” Ryan said. “Come on, Jonny, you can help me peel this bloody mountain of potatoes.”
“Okay,” I said, standing up before I’d really processed what he’d asked.
Maybe the distraction would help. But I was already counting down the hours until I could leave to find Devon.