Chapter 14
ASHER REYNOLDS
Ileft the treatment room so quickly that I’m still throwing on my sweatshirt by the time that I hit the sidewalk that leads into campus. The only reason that I put it on is because if I don’t, I’m likely to sit it down and leave it somewhere with how many different directions my mind is running in.
He’s attracted to me.
Wyatt Chase is attracted to me.
What. The. Fuck.
I’m grateful that my leg is in such good shape because I can’t stay still right now to save my life. I pass by the buildings at the edge of campus, flanked with trees that are starting to turn colors in the fall weather.
I force myself to inhale deeply, the cold air hitting my lungs and making my chest expand.
I feel crazy right now. That’s the only way to describe it. Of all the things that I thought he was going to say, admitting that he’s attracted to me wasn’t one of them.
And like, what do I even do with that information?
I just keep thinking about the way that he was looking at me. His dark, piercing eyes and how they scanned my face as he was laying into me. His lips, set into a frustrated line that made me want to lean forward and kiss them. Kiss him.
And my body was reacting–strongly. If I didn’t get out of there soon, he was going to see how much I liked our closeness. How hard I’d gotten just from him telling me that he wanted me.
Does this mean I’m gay? Or bi? Or something in between? All I know is that I’ve never felt this electricity with anyone else. And there’s definitely no one who’s physically made my body react like that.
I’m hitting the busier part of campus–where the buildings are clustered closer together–when I start to think about my poor excuse of a sex life and what it all means.
I lost my virginity my first year of junior leagues, when I moved away from home.
Her name was Candace, and she pursued me aggressively.
And all the other guys were, let’s just say…
very experienced by that point in their lives.
I got to the point where I finally started to feel weird about the fact that I hadn’t had sex yet.
Mostly because they made me feel weird about the fact that I hadn’t had sex yet. Like it was some magical thing that I was missing out on. Of all my quirks, not being sexually active was the one that the rest of the team seemed to find the most confusing.
I was living with a host family and she still lived with her parents, so we had sex in the back of her car after a home game.
And for the first time, I’m thinking about how weird it is that I looked at the whole situation so… clinically. She expressed an interest in me. It felt like I should do it to see what I was missing out on. So, I did.
After we had sex, it was like I checked a box off in my mind.
Once I came to college, I slept with a couple of other women.
Usually, they were interested in being with a hockey player more than anything, so I didn’t have to worry about being charming or funny or cool.
I’d let them take me home after a party, when there were other people around to see us leaving together.
And that’s fucking weird, right? Instead of being excited that I was going to sleep with a hot girl, I was clocking the room to make sure that at least a few of the guys saw us walking upstairs or out the door.
And now, thinking about Chase, I have goddamn butterflies in my stomach that are flapping around like they’re a second away from punching out of my body and flying away.
I feel like my whole sense of self has been blown up in the past few weeks, and I don’t know whether to scream or cry or throw up. The butterflies are certainly not helping things.
I wonder if I’m going to combust right there on the sidewalk when I notice a tall, fit guy with immaculately styled hair walking toward me.
It takes me a second to register who I’m seeing, since usually, the only time that I see Wells is when he’s with Kellan.
But with Kellan’s first pro season kicking off, I haven’t seen either of them since the end of school last year.
I’m confused about why he’s on campus until I remember that he’s started working for the tutoring center as a full-time staff member.
I stare at him while he walks closer, hedging my bets.
He’s never been the most approachable guy, but I’m desperate.
What I do know is that he’d do anything for Kellan, and wouldn’t Kellan want one of his best friends to get a little clarity right now?
There are so many thoughts swirling around in my brain and if I don’t get some of them out into the world, I really will explode.
So, really, if Wells thinks about it, not that he has any idea what’s going on, he’s doing Kellan a huge favor.
He’s about to start walking up the steps to the tutoring center when I pick up my pace again.
“Wells! Hey buddy!” It doesn’t escape me that I sound like a complete idiot.
I doubt that Bennett Wellington III has never been called buddy in his life.
He’s peak ‘New England rich kid,’ and he exudes an air of aloofness that follows him everywhere.
Wells stops, which is good for me, but he gives me an inscrutable look. “Dutch,” he says, a little formally.
“How have you been?” I wheeze, out of breath from making sure that I catch up to him in a way that looks casual. God, I’m a mess right now.
“Good?” he says, like it’s a question instead of a statement. He looks past me, probably wondering why I’m talking to him. But, in my defense, it’s not that weird. He’s my friend’s boyfriend, and his little brother joined the Renegades this year.
And I mean, we’ve broken bread together. At the end of last semester, Kellan had me over for dinner so that I could visit their new apartment. That should really count for something.
“It’s been a while. Can I grab you a coffee? It would be great to catch up.” I maneuver myself between him and the step that he’s about to walk up so that he would need to physically move around me to give me the brush off.
I can see that he’s about to tell me no when his features shift.
His look of dismissiveness morphs into sympathy, and I know exactly what he’s thinking about.
When Kellan found out about the car accident, he’d called me immediately.
I was still in the hospital and basically catatonic, so I wasn’t exactly a great conversationalist.
Since then, Kellan’s reached out weekly to check-in, even though I haven’t exactly been up for hanging out.
And I absolutely know that he would have pressed the issue more–maybe even shown up at my apartment if he knew where it was–except that getting adjusted to playing pro has been absolutely grueling.
He looks down at his insanely expensive watch. “I have a few minutes.”
I give him my most dazzling smile. “Great.”
“How’s tutoring full-time?” We both have our coffees from one of the carts in front of the student union building, and I sit down at one of the metal tables. It’s cold on my ass, but I’m a man on a mission.
Wells peers at me over his coffee cup. “It’s been good. Though I don’t actually tutor anymore. I mainly deal with staff and handle a lot of approvals.”
I nod. “That’s cool. That’s cool.”
“Sure, I guess. It’s a job.” He’s starting to look at me a little strangely, and I wonder if it’s because I have a slightly crazed look in my eyes, trying to gear myself up for what I want to say. “How are you doing?” he asks, surprisingly soft.
I see a flash of the side of himself that he must show to Kellan, even though it doesn’t do anything to relax me. Wells is practically a stranger, even though he’s in a serious relationship with one of my best friends. But desperate times call for desperate measures.
“Taking things day-by-day.” I take in a ragged inhale and– “Anyway, how did you know you were gay?”
His eyebrows draw upward, even as he stays silent.
And I get it. That’s a crazy thing to ask someone who you’ve only met a couple of times.
Problematic, even. But I’m at a loss here, and I’m not even close to the level where I will sink to make things make sense.
Finally, he says, “Is there a reason that you’re asking me? ”
I click my tongue. If I can’t tell my best friend’s boyfriend that I’m into guys, I don’t know who would possibly be a better fit.
My sister flashes through my mind, and it causes a dull ache to spread through my chest, just like it always does.
But I know that she’d want me to be brave.
I scratch my beard and try to force my good leg to stop bouncing.
“I met someone and I’m a little confused about things.
How I feel about him. What the way I feel about him means about me, specifically. ”
“Him?” Wells says, his lips morphing into an interested smile. He’s handsome, but a little too polished for me. The thought hits me, Chase taking up all the space in my mind instead of the curious face looking back at me.
I clear my throat. “Yeah. And I mean, I’m twenty-four.
Wouldn’t I have known something like this about myself?
Seems pretty crazy that I had no idea.” And that’s the rub.
I used to spend a lot of time thinking about life–and the world–at large.
How in the hell could I have missed something like this?
“That you’re into men?” Wells asks, forcing me to confront the words that I’m dancing around.
“Yes, Wells. That I’m into men,” I say, even as I can feel heat washing across my cheeks. I’m not embarrassed about my attraction to Chase, but it does feel a little ridiculous that I wouldn’t have known this about myself. Hell, my best friend literally came out to me last year.
How obtuse can I possibly be? Apparently enough that I totally missed the fact that I’m attracted to men. So far, the count is one man, but it’s one more than I’d ever thought I’d be having feelings for.