Chapter Five #2
I took another sip. Maybe Flynn had been ignorant of my frustration before, but it was definitely on his radar now.
“You didn’t tell us he was back,” Kyle said.
“I figured his mom was an effective enough publicity department,” I deadpanned.
Kyle gave me a look that said he thought my simmering vitriol was hilarious.
“You also didn’t tell us that he’s hot, now,” Catherine added.
I snorted over the rim of my glass, amused despite everything. “You’re barking up the wrong tree, there.”
“Wait,” Kyle hissed, leaning in close, “you mean he’s gay?”
It was like a cold nausea, descending over me. Horror and guilt, blended with a good-sized shot of regret. Flynn might not be my favorite person in the world, but it didn’t make it right for me to out him. Even if it was to an audience I knew wouldn’t be judgmental.
“Forget it,” I told them.
Catherine’s eyebrow was up, though, and I knew what that meant. “Did he tell you? Or...”
It was the sort of ellipsis you can hear, and I didn’t want to know what was coming at the end of it. “Just stop, okay?”
They both sat back, sharing a glance.
“Did you and him... y’know...”
At any other time, Kyle’s coyness would’ve been amusing.
“No!”
My vehemence prompted another glance.
“Look,” I said, trying to keep my voice level, and not sound as if I was about to have a small panic attack at the direction the evening had gone. “It’s no big deal. We talked, very briefly, when he and his parents stopped by a few nights back.”
“Just talked.” Catherine sounded skeptical.
“Yes, just talked,” I repeated. “But, look, you can’t... I mean, you can’t tell Flynn that I told you...”
“Told them what?”
I froze. Mouth still open, but the words no longer coming. In fact, it felt very much as though my lungs had ceased operations, too, along with my heart. Just leaving my brain, doing kill-me-now backflips in my skull.
“Oh... hey, Flynn.” Kyle somehow managed to make three words sound suspicious.
“Hey,” Flynn echoed. “Happy holidays. What did he tell you?”
My friends were reasonable clever, capably cunning young people, arguably in the prime of their lives. Or, at least, I’d thought they were. The fact that they apparently couldn’t come up with a convincing lie between them was making me rethink that assumption.
“Your shirt,” I blurted out. “I mean... that you bought it from the thrift. That shirt.”
Flynn glanced down at the black polo, then up at me again. He seemed confused.
“Oh. I mean, yeah?”
“All your outfits are so fancy,” I pointed out. “I thought you might be self-conscious, if people knew that was... y’know... second-hand.”
He frowned. “You said it looked good on me?”
Had I? Like a lot of my interactions with him this past week, I’d done a surprisingly good job of wiping the details from my brain. If only to spare myself the sort of lingering embarrassment that gets you a reputation for randomly wincing.
“Oh, it does, it totally does.”
I was over-egging it, I knew. Didn’t need Catherine and Kyle’s conspiratorial shared look to tell me that.
But there was a difference between knowing something and being able to stop it, not to mention the fact that - left to my idiotic friends - we’d all still be here in mortified silence, mouths gaping like goldfish.
“Maybe I should just donate it back,” Flynn suggested. From his slight smile, I figured he’d decided this was all a joke.
“Make sure to wash it first,” I pointed out.
“Oh, you mean I shouldn’t just give it to you now?” He grabbed the hem, lifting it as though to strip the polo off.
I made a mental note to tell Catherine, later, that I’d seen the way her eyes instantly shot to the brief glimpse of abs.
“You’ll get kicked out if you’re half naked,” I said. “This place has standards.”
Flynn laughed, pulling the shirt back down, and I laughed along with him. Only remembering, after a moment, that I was meant to be angry at him. Or, if not that, then apathetic at best.
“Are you in town for the holidays?” Kyle hadn’t thought of the most imaginative question but I was okay with that, just as long as it took the focus off me.
Flynn nodded. “Quietly going mad at my parents. My mom can be kinda a lot, even at the best of times.”
I buried my snort in my drink, though I wasn’t sure it was entirely effective.
“Sticking around long?” Catherine had, at least, shifted her gaze from Flynn’s chest to his face.
He shook his head. “Headed back tomorrow. Just catching up with some of the old guys while I have the chance.” A nod, to a couple of men at the bar who I vaguely remembered.
“Well,” I said, with what I hoped was a note of finality rather than desperation, “we won’t keep you, then.”
A beat. For a split-second, I thought he was going to argue.
Sit down, even - he’d have had to pull up a chair, but the place still wasn’t crowded - and join us.
Force me to have the sort of polite conversation that I’d refused to engage in, while we’d been sitting side by side in my truck the other night.
He didn’t, though. Just pulled out his phone.
“Look, let me pay you for the gas, okay? I know you said no, but... well, you saved my ass, didn’t you. You shouldn’t be out of pocket for it.”
I opened my mouth, to protest.
“Oli, please. Just this once, don’t argue?”
He turned the screen, to show me the mobile wallet. Sighing, I fished my own phone out of my pocket. Let him tap his against it, feeling it shiver in my hand as the money transferred.
“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it.”
I wasn’t sure which was preferable: facing Flynn’s very-nearly-smug smile, or the fascinated stares of my friends.
“You didn’t have to,” I said, finally.
Flynn winked. “But I did. So.”
Silence again, for a moment.
“Anyway, it was good seeing you guys again.” He flashed Catherine and Kyle a grin, then looked to me. “Oli, it was...”
“Yeah,” I interrupted, “right. Safe travels back.”
He nodded, and then walked across the room to his friends.
Mine were already watching me intently when I turned back around.
“The gas.” Catherine made it sound like a statement, though I knew life wasn’t so easy.
“I picked him up, in the storm the other night. His car broke down.” Simple, straightforward sentences seemed least likely to be misunderstood.
Kyle pointedly looked over, to where I figured Flynn and his buddies were at the bar, and then back at me. “You and hot stuff there, all alone in your truck, in a big scary storm? Did you cuddle to keep your spirits up?”
I glared at him. “Not funny.”
“No, not at all,” Kyle agreed, grinning. “More sexy, I think. Maybe in the shirt, that you said ‘looked hot on him’?”
“I said ‘good,’” I pointed out. “And your imagination is more exciting than reality.”
“You’re pretty cagey about explaining reality,” Catherine pointed out.
Sighing, I finished my drink. “His car broke down. His mom asked me to go pick him up, which I did. About the most exciting thing that happened was an electrical storm I thought was going to fry us alive.”
“Sparks flying, eh?” Kyle waggled his eyebrows.
“I’m gonna run you down in the parking lot,” I told him, curtly.
“I’m your ride home,” Kyle reminded me, “so you could have more than one beer.”
I pushed my empty glass across the table toward him. “So buy another round, idiot.”