Chapter 11
TYLER
It happened. Just as I was afraid it would. But I had no idea it would happen so soon.
Things are weird between us. Have been for a while now. I’m not imagining it, that much is clear. Because a day here and there is normal to feel off, but not two weeks. Two weeks is long enough for a pattern to form. It’s subtle, but it’s there.
I hate it.
I should’ve been at the gym by now—already got a handful of texts from Blake demanding to know where I am—but it’s been raining since I woke up with no sign of letting off.
No way am I letting Jamie walk to work in this weather, so I’m hovering until he’s ready to leave.
Fiona keeps me company, loafing in my lap while I stroke her ears.
I’ll never get over how soft her coat is.
She stirs and perks up when Jamie’s door opens and he walks out, tousled and still half-asleep. It takes him a minute to even notice I’m here, and he stops in his tracks, suddenly looking more awake.
“Oh, you’re here,” he points out, redundantly. He also doesn’t sound very happy about the fact. “Back from the gym already?”
“Nah, I haven’t been yet.” I plop Fiona on the couch and stand up. “I wanted to give you a ride. It’s pouring outside.”
Jamie slowly turns his head towards the window, as if he hadn’t noticed the rain until now. Then just as slowly, his gaze returns to me. He swallows.
“Thanks, but you didn’t have to. I can walk.”
I expected as much from him, but it still grates. “Nope. You’re coming with me. I’m not letting you get sick.”
His brows pinch together, like I’m proposing something outrageous.
“I appreciate it, really, but it’s not neccessa—”
“Jamie.” Some frustration has bled into my voice, so I focus on softening it before I continue. “I wasn’t asking. I am giving you a ride.”
He must sense that I won’t budge. His shoulders droop as resistance leaves him, and he gives a silent nod.
“Okay. Thank you.” He points briefly at the bathroom. “I won’t be long.”
“Take your time.” He won’t, but I still give him the option.
He emerges ten minutes later, dressed in his uniform and hair combed into place. A stray thought hits me, that I prefer it when he looks disheveled and soft from sleep. It…suits him much more than this prim and proper look.
“I’m ready,” he announces, following me into the elevator and the car like I’m leading him to a court hearing, instead of giving him a ride.
A part of me feels bad for forcing him to come with me, but I simply refuse to stand by while he distances himself from me like he’s been doing.
I wish he’d talk to me about the reason why, because I don’t know how to bring it up first without sounding accusatory.
So that leaves passive aggressiveness. Tyler-style.
I stop at a drive-thru cafe on the way, not wanting to let Jamie go hungry just because I inadvertently rushed him.
“What would you like?” I ask him.
“What?”
“For breakfast. You haven’t had any.”
“Oh. I’m fine, really.”
He’s always fine, and I never believe him.
“I’ll pick for you if you don’t,” I inform him casually. He doesn’t give in how I expect him to.
“Okay,” he replies after a brief hesitation.
“Okay?”
“You can pick for me.”
Huh. Strange…
Why do I like the idea of deciding for him so much?
I end up getting him a loaded berry smoothie and a donut, since I know he has a sweet tooth, and an iced almond latte.
His eyes nearly pop out when I hand him all the items at the pick up window.
“Wait, what about you?”
“I don’t eat before the gym. I just had a protein shake.”
“B-but that’s too much!”
“Well…” I put the car back in motion. “Maybe next time you won’t leave it up to me to order.”
Or maybe he will. I think I like buying him things, especially food. More than that, I like seeing him flustered because of something I did. Even if it’s something small and silly, like this.
The rest of the ride is silent, with Jamie cautiously sipping on the smoothie. He clearly likes my choice despite trying not to show it. It’s freaking cute. But it’s also pissing me off, because why does he suddenly feel like he has to control himself around me?
We reach the clinic shortly, and I get out to hold open both the car and clinic doors for him, since his hands are full. It earns me an adorable blush which momentarily placates my sour mood.
But it only lasts until I get to the gym. Then I’m back to overthinking.
The thing is, Jamie hasn’t stopped being his sweet, fussy self. He still cooks, still eats with me, still laughs at Fiona’s antics and asks about my day. If someone were watching us from the outside, they’d probably see nothing wrong.
Except from where I’m standing, everything is wrong.
He sits a little farther away, mindful not to touch me, or even brush against me.
When I move closer without thinking, like when we are watching a movie, he doesn’t flinch exactly, but I feel the tension in him, before he almost inconspicuously shifts a little further away. It makes me feel like I’m contagious.
Even the way he speaks to me now is different. There’s this…pause, as if he’s going over what he wants to say before he says it. Why does he suddenly feel like he needs to censor himself with me?
Not to mention that he almost never looks directly at me anymore. A glance here and there, yeah, sure. But steady eye contact? No chance. If he’s at home, he’s mostly holed up in his room, leaving the door open a crack for Fiona to sneak in, but that’s it.
If you add all these not so little things up, it can only mean one thing: I am the problem. Well, my lifestyle is. If I track all these changes back to the source, I always end up back on the day Lisa came over.
Since he moved in, Jamie has repeatedly said he was okay with me bringing women home, but if that Thursday two weeks ago proved anything, it’s that he’s not okay at all.
He’s polite and non-judgmental, but the whole thing clearly makes him uncomfortable.
The worst part? I have no idea what to do about it.
After I noticed him acting off, I’ve made some adjustments. If I do have someone over, I make sure it happens when he’s at work or in class, and that the person leaves before he comes home.
I thought that would solve the problem. What Jamie doesn’t know or see can’t make him uncomfortable, right?
Yeah, wrong. Nothing’s changed. Not a single thing. And I’m lost.
And sleep-deprived, because I can’t stop thinking about it. That doesn’t sound like me. Is this anxiety? This pit-in-the-stomach feeling? Because I’m not a fan. And I’m probably headed towards a nasty migraine, if the pain that’s starting to radiate from my temples tells me anything.
It’s probably not very wise to squat my max while sleep-deprived, anxious and without a spotter. Alas Blake has already gone home, and I desperately need a distraction from my thoughts. Losing myself in the rhythm of lifting and the sweet burn in my muscles sounds pretty good right now.
It works. Kinda. And by the time my quads are being roasted in the hellfire, another distraction comes my way.
Seth finds me between sets, as he always does, appearing with his breezy confidence and a grin that grows bigger when he notices I’m by myself.
“I see you don’t have your guard dog with you today,” he says in lieu of a greeting.
I snort, wiping sweat off my forehead. “Is that what he is?”
“Sure acts like it.”
“Hmm.” I bend down to snatch my water bottle. “I suppose you do give off a dangerous vibe.”
“Aww, no need to be afraid of me.” He shuffles forward and reaches for me. With slowness that can only be intentional, he traces a long line down my forearm with his forefinger. He licks his lips and purrs, “I’ll be super gentle with you.”
My head falls back on a hearty laugh. Jesus, this guy…
I probably shouldn’t encourage him, but he’s so much fun, his personality so refreshing.
He’s a rather small guy, like Jamie. But unlike Jamie, you can tell Seth takes up space wherever he goes.
I don’t mean that Jamie is boring or that his personality is small.
Not at all. Jamie is fun in a different way.
The kind of way that makes your whole being relax when you’re around him, like sliding under a thick blanket while it’s freezing outside. Or like—
Seth clicks his tongue and withdraws his hand, so he can fold his arms across his chest. “You look distracted. How rude. That’s my job.” He feigns an over-exaggerated pout that makes me laugh again. See what I mean?
“Sorry. There’s a lot on my mind.” Aaand I ended up thinking about Jamie again.
“Oh yeah?” He presses even closer. I get a whiff of his scent. It smells like bubblegum. “Maybe I can help. I’ve been told I have thought-annihilating skills.”
I chuckle, about to politely decline, as always.
But something hits me. Seth’s abrasive personality makes him, ironically, really easy to talk to. I get the feeling that he wouldn’t judge or laugh.
“Actually, you might be able to help me.”
The way his eyes, framed with black eyeliner, widen almost comically tells me he wasn’t expecting that answer. I grimace, realizing I should’ve made myself clearer.
“I was hoping I could ask you something.”
He blinks, then scowls. “Fucker. Setting me up like that, when I was ready to drop to my knees.”
“In the middle of a busy gym?”
He shrugs. “I do like an audience.”
“Why am I not surprised? You’re definitely a show off.”
“Oh, I have a lot to show off, indeed.”
I shake my head. This guy is feral, seriously. It’s hilarious. For some weird reason, I feel like he’d get on really well with Jamie.
I sigh. Here I go again, thinking of him.
“Okay, let’s hear it.” Seth claps his hands together. “Give me the tea.”
I hesitate, because this feels ridiculous. But Seth is gay, blunt, and not emotionally invested in my life, which makes him safer than most people to talk to about this.
“Alright, so…hypothetically…”
“Oh, my favorite kind.”