Chapter 20
CHASE
Defeated, I yank my gloves off and toss them on the ground. “I’m so fucking done. Why do I keep letting you talk me into this bullshit?”
He doesn’t even give enough of a shit to look up from his concrete mixing. “You’re the most dramatic son of a bitch I’ve ever met. Keep digging.”
“This has got to be some kind of hate crime, making me dig the holes while you do easier shit.”
That makes him laugh, deep and rich. “Because I don’t trust that you won’t try and dump this mess on me as some sort of revenge plot.”
I’m not sure I could make a good case for that not being on the list of possible outcomes.
While, technically, there’s no one to blame but myself, Brady takes the heat like a champ so I offer no apologies.
We’re only on day two of this lunacy, but considering I’d rather be getting bamboo shoots shoved under my fingernails, I’m not exactly happy about this endeavor.
If under the duress of actual torture, I might admit that this is slightly better than endless days filled with nothing but terror that something will happen to Easton.
Only marginally, though. I may hate him for it, but this dumbass usually has the right idea about what to do with our combined stress levels.
Looking back, our renovation projects usually did line up with when one of us would be particularly fucked up about something.
Not exactly uncommon before Easton came back, though.
Speaking of… “Brady.” I wait until he looks up before continuing.
“I’m sorry for encouraging Easton to talk to your parents back then.
I knew I had a bad feeling about them, but I ignored it, and then you lost him. ”
It’s sat between us since we were driving up and down every road in that fucking town, slowly coming to the realization that he was truly gone.
I felt it. There was something so sinister about the way his dad watched us.
But I made the wrong call and nothing has ever been the same since.
It’s the last thing hanging in the balance.
We’ve covered a lot of insecurities between the two of us lately and it’s done a lot of good, at least for me.
This is the big one, though. The worst mistake I’ve ever made that sent Easton on a path filled with agony.
My best friend flips his ball cap around so there’s nothing obscuring his eyes before patting the grass in front of him. “Come on, little robot. Sit down.”
I’m choosing to let the pet name go for now, only because the pounding in my chest won’t be ignored. That damn sure is not sticking, though. When I’m across from him, he says, “You need to hash this one out before you’ll be able to move on, huh?”
Rude. “Yeah.”
“So you’re telling me that all these years, you’ve been the number one advocate for me forgiving myself, but this whole time, you weren’t willing to do yourself the same courtesy?”
There he goes, oversimplifying the point again. “Brady, I knew. Don’t you get that? I could feel that something was off.”
He scoffs, like I’m the one not getting it.
“I knew too, if you want to get really technical. Not consciously, but I was aware enough that I must have told Easton a hundred times that if he could just wait until he could go off to college, he could be whoever he wanted. What’s different about that?
You had a bad feeling, and I knew that he’d never get to be himself in front of them.
Sounds kinda like the same thing to me.”
“You’re not gay, Bray. My hardwiring is set up to make me more aware of homophobia so that, hopefully, I don’t get myself killed. They’re your parents, of course it was harder for you to see. But I should have been able to see it and tell Easton he’d have been safer lying his ass off.”
Brady nods before turning his head up to the sky for a long moment.
“You had faith in them because it was important to me. That’s not on you, and if we’re being real, not on me either.
I trusted that they’d love us no matter what because that’s what parents are supposed to do.
You wanted to believe in them because you had been relying on me.
I was fully operating your social skills back then, which was cool with me.
But no shit you didn’t want to admit what you felt. That seems pretty obvious to me.”
Goddamn him and his endless understanding.
He can’t just no big deal away the biggest regret of my life.
Easton could have died, more than just the time that got him put in the hospital.
Each time that sick fuck laid hands on him could have been when it went too far.
Then what? If it had happened before this summer we would have never known.
It kept me up at night, the always there possibility.
It’s not even uncommon.
The thought has haunted me. All because I told him it would be okay to come out.
Look where that got him.
The guilt is killing me.
His leg extends before he kicks me lightly.
“It’s time to let it go, Ace. You have to.
You guys have the potential for this amazing, wonderful life together, and that guilt will eat away at the joy you should be experiencing.
I know things are tough right now while that motherfucker is still out there.
But after that? You’re your own biggest threat.
Eas is trying to move forward, not because he thinks he deserves it, but because he thinks you do.
Do him the same courtesy. You may not think you should be able to set this weight down and keep walking, but Easton needs you to.
I will need you to. This can’t keep hanging over you when you look over our history. ”
“What do you mean?” I ask roughly.
Brady tugs at his hat, almost shy, which is a little bit of a mind-fuck to witness.
“You’ve been my very best friend for six years, Chase.
We’ve been together from starting college to graduating and getting real jobs.
Buying houses, and you falling in love with my little brother, for fuck’s sake.
I was there when your sister had her baby and every holiday, family birthday celebration, and major event since things blew up with my own family.
When I think about our friendship, I see that shit.
Sledding after that big ice storm with Blakely senior year.
That fucking Halloween party when you swore up and down that there was no way you’d dress up with me but then you showed up late wearing that ugly yellow plaid blazer—the Cher to my Dee.
It kinda sucks that you look back and see that one terrible moment.
That there’s a way that can overshadow the great memories we’ve made together.
That will eventually start to eat at you, which will hurt our friendship.
So drop it, make peace with it. For me, Easton, Blake, and your family.
All of us will suffer if you allow this to rule your life.
I wish you’d do it for you, but until then, do it for us. ”
Well, damn. When he puts it like that… “I hate how much sense you make sometimes.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I just gave the same speech with less words to Easton yesterday. Different goals, but y’all have more in common than you think.”
It surprises a chuckle out of me. “Are you saying that my issues aren’t worth original monologues anymore? That’s insulting.”
Brady simply winks. “Have more original issues then. If not, I’m gonna have to take my talents on the road before I start getting out of practice.” He pushes to his feet before holding a hand out for me. “Come on. We promised Blakely a gazebo. We gotta get back to work.”
My reminder that I never promised her anything falls on deaf ears. It’s an exceedingly long afternoon.
~~~
If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a hundred times, we are not qualified for this shit.
But Brady gets us to a relative stopping point and turns me loose for the day so he can be free to debrief with Blakely.
Or in more specific terms, have an in-depth discussion about the emotional cobwebs that got knocked loose today.
I want absolutely no part in it, but that’s his process, so more power to him. I have something much better in mind.
Easton is lost in a kaleidoscope canvas.
Neon blues, greens, and yellows. The reflection in the window reveals a smear of purple on the tip of his nose, and I fall in love all over again.
His work has always had an element of wonder in it that is unique to him; it’s what pulls me in every single time.
This one has that without a doubt, but it’s got a lot more depth than his typical creations.
I don’t speak art well, much to my mother’s great disappointment when she found out she had a gay son, but it’s undeniable that the level of emotion in this rivals anything he’s ever done before.
I’m so amazed by him; it still knocks me on my ass sometimes.
There’s no telling how long I stand here, just watching him.
It’s by far the most captivating sight I’ve seen in a long time.
There’s something in the back of my mind that reminds me of the level of high alert he's been operating at lately. It’s a gift to be able to observe him without setting off his inner alarm bells.
Even when he doesn’t see me, he knows he’s safe.
He spins around, searching for more yellow to refill the little well in his palette, and that’s when he spots me. My stomach swoops at the way he lights up. “Can I see it?” I ask, indicating his canvas. I could see about half of it leaning against the wall, but I want to see the whole thing
My Chaos scrunches his nose. “It’s not finished, so don’t be too harsh with me yet.”
I snort a laugh. “As if you’ve ever even doodled something that didn’t blow me away.”
His corn-silk hair flops to the side as he cocks his head to consider that. “Well, I guess that’s true.” When he steps to the side, the air in my lungs exits in a fast whoosh. It’s dark. Moody, almost, which stands in stark contrast to the bright colors.
“Shit, Easton. This is incredible,” I breathe.
He leans against my shoulder, and I slide a hand across his back to latch on to his hip.
For a while, we just stand side by side and take it in.
“It’s still too early to call, but if it comes out like I’m hoping it will, this will be what I’m most proud of that I’ve done.
Well, this one and the others I’ll do to match it. ”
Suddenly the cryptic text my mom sent earlier makes more sense.
I’m supposed to use a judgment call on when to tell him, though, and it’s probably too early.
I don’t want to spook him into a slump. Instead, I tell him, “Six months ago, you wouldn’t have taken a risk on yourself and changed up your style like this.
Now, you’re saying things like that. Maybe I’m not giving you enough credit, after all. ”
“I don’t blame you. It’s been an unconventional process and strange circumstances, to say the least. But this has always been how I process, nothing has changed there. I lost it for a while, but now that it’s back. It helps me cope. I’m okay pushing myself like this with a canvas.”
I definitely haven’t been giving him the credit he deserves.
If the roles were reversed, I’d be a permanent lump on the floor.
All I want is him safe and happy, and while we still have danger lurking in the corner, he is making the best of the shit hand he got dealt.
Proud is an understatement. When I tell him as much, he ducks his head into my neck, but I can feel him smiling.
Easton kisses the sensitive spot under jaw, prompting me to drop my head to the side to give him better access. He takes full advantage, nibbling and kissing his way to my lips where he gives a real shot at eating me alive.
Fuck me, he’s so perfect.
I indulge in the kiss, reveling in the slight chemical smell lingering on his skin from a day of painting.
He feels like more himself than he’s ever been in my arms, right at this very moment, and I’m more in love than I’ve ever been.
The rush makes me bolder than usual, desperate to share that feeling, I say, “Come on, sweetheart. Tell me what you want. Anything.”
Desire colors his cheeks and darkens his eyes. Watching his shy nature go to war with temptation is a glorious thing to witness. In the end, I’m thrilled when the winner is clear.