Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
ROBBIE
I’m sitting at a booth in Watchfire with three of my favorite people in the world. The remains of a giant chocolate cake—complete with flaming sparklers and a whipped-cream canister painted like a fire extinguisher to “blow them out”—sit in the middle of our table.
Brie’s sitting across from me, eating her body weight in baked goods. She hasn’t stopped grinning since Uncle Ames walked out with the flaming cake and said, “Congratulations, Science Star,” loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear.
Kaylee’s sitting beside her, so impressed with the dessert Ames put together, she’s actually put down her phone for a little while, though it violates every law of teenagerdom.
And my best friend is sitting beside me, chatting with Brie about science camp, and Kaylee about whether he’s qualified to take her prom dress shopping when he only owns chef’s whites and turnout gear .
It’s wonderful. Really. These people I love are perfectly happy in this moment, so I should be too.
And yet…
Every time Ames shifts his weight, I smell his coconut hair product. When he leans over to high-five Kaylee, our thighs brush beneath the table. And when he sits very still and watchful and doesn’t move at all, I can still feel the energy arcing between every cell of our arms.
This booth was not designed for two grown men. Definitely not two men who almost kissed two days ago and are trying very hard to forget it ever happened.
I feel like I’m coming out of my skin.
“—demonstrated all four types of extinguishers: water, foam, CO2, and dry powder. Mr. Patterson said it was very thorough .” Brie’s eyes shine with pride.
“Of course it was. ’Cause you’re brilliant,” Ames declares. “And you.” He narrows his eyes at Kaylee. “Don’t think I’m not planning something special for you, Miss 400 Meter Hurdles. A little bird told me you won your race Wednesday and set a new PR?”
Kaylee shrugs but looks pleased. “Kinda, yeah.”
“ Kinda, yeah ,” Ames singsongs with an eye roll that makes Kaylee laugh. He gives me a look of mock bewilderment. “Where the hell did these two prodigies come from, Robert?”
“Dad says I’m like him,” Brie volunteers. “’Cause I’m too smart for my own good.”
Ames stiffens a little, and Kaylee shoots me a glance from across the table that I can’t quite interpret.
“Not true. You’re exactly the right amount of smart,” I tell her. Then I shoot her a wink and add in a joking tone, “I think you both probably get your talents from me . I’m good at jumping hurdles, and I’m good with fire extinguishers, so?—”
The girls laugh. Ames snorts. “But could you arrange a presentation on the extinguishers? Remember who had to teach you PowerPoint.” He turns, and we’re so close I can see the line of darker blue around his light blue irises.
“And that was right after I had to step in to save you from painting your kitchen navy .” He shakes his head. “I don’t know where you got that idea.”
I swallow hard and look away. I’m starting to think I might know why I like that color in my kitchen so much.
Fucking fuck . What is going on with me? How far back does it go? And why won’t it let up?
“I think it’s obvious you girls take after your Uncle Ames,” Ames teases.
“But Uncle Ames, we’re not related,” Brie protests.
“Pffft. Genetics . I’ve known you since you were hours old, and I’m a fast runner who loves science?—”
“Compelling argument,” Kaylee says around a bite of cake.
“Loves science? Ha. Who may or may not have pulled a fire alarm because he forgot to study for our biology final sophomore year, Mr. Science?” I take a bite of cake and lick my spoon, staring at Ames the whole time.
Ames’s jaw drops. “We said we’d never discuss that, Robert.”
Kaylee and Brie snicker.
“I said may or may not ,” I remind him. “You’re the one who just admitted to it.”
“Hmph. Never pull a fire alarm, girls. I wouldn’t have either, except I was going through a minor life crisis.” He sniffs as he settles back against the booth. His arm presses against mine, and heat sears me through the fabric of our shirts.
I would move away, except there’s nowhere to go…
And honestly— fuck —I don’t want to.
It feels too good.
“We both were,” I remind him. I clear my throat and hope no one can guess why my voice is so rough. For the girls’ benefit, I explain, “My ex-girlfriend Carrie?—”
“Carli,” Ames corrects.
“—started dating Jake Palmeri, the guy Ames had a crush on.”
“God, I forgot Jake existed,” Ames sighs. “Wonder what happened to him.”
Kaylee grins around her cake. “But at least you guys had each other.” She points back and forth between us with her fork.
“’Course they did. They’re best friends,” Brie says.
I force a smile, and from the corner of my eye, I see Ames do the same.
“Always,” I say softly, and for a second, I wish it could go back to being that uncomplicated.
The clock on Dr. Colburn’s mantel is still making that tick-schlock sound.
I brought my multitool this time, fully prepared to fix it, but when I mention it, Dr. Colburn just smiles and says, “No thanks, Robbie. I like it this way. It’s distinctive.” She winks. “Perfectly itself, which is the best any of us can do, right?”
I know she’s making a point here about… I don’t know, ac ceptance or self-love or something? But I don’t think that metaphor tracks since I kinda wanna throw the clock out the window.
She settles into her chair with her tea and pulls out her notepad. “So, how’d things go with Ames?”
Now, that’s an excellent fucking question.
Well, Doc, I thought they were going okay.
Until I jacked off while thinking about him.
And now I’m pretty sure I’m going to have to sell my truck. Or maybe bronze it.
I almost kissed him too. Then I ran away.
And now I can’t sit next to him without feeling like there are tiny earthquakes happening inside me .
I don’t say any of that out loud, obviously. Speaking my thoughts would make them real, and even though it’s been almost a week since our almost-kiss, I’m still not ready to confirm or deny.
And that’s not because I’m way, way, way deep-down homophobic—a thought I tortured myself with for funsies this week.
If I’m bi, I’m a thousand percent fine with it. Hell, I’m thrilled.
I’ll probably get a tattoo of the bi flag. I’ll for sure put it on my Instagram bio. And I’ll march in the Winsome Pride Parade next to Ames in June, as always, only this time, I’ll carry a sign that says “Being B-I is A-O-K” because representation matters.
But what’s gluing my mouth shut right now, what’s making me doubt, is that I—an almost thirty-year-old man with a gay best friend—should not have been able to miss this memo about myself .
How’s it even possible? I thought I’d considered my sexuality and gotten the answer a long fucking time ago.
I for sure don’t feel any kind of way when Holden Axford walks around the locker room in a towel. Or Ruiz. Or… shit, even fucking Greene , who has more abs than I’d known a human should possess.
Why Ames of all goddamn people?
Why am I starting to look back on every moment in our long, long history and see my own thoughts and reactions through a different lens?
“Things are good,” I tell the doctor, who’s been waiting quietly. “Ames and I talked about our friendship. Communicated, you know?”
“Great.” The doctor sips her tea. “And are things back to normal?”
I clench my hands into fists in my lap.
Only if you consider it normal that I can’t stop noticing the way he moves, the way his throat works when he laughs, the way his fingers look when he runs them through his hair.
“Kinda? We, ah, spent the day with my nieces Sunday. That was awesome, ’cause they love Ames.
We were both at Axford family dinner, and it was great.
And we’ve hung out at the station too.” I wave a hand vaguely in the direction of the Emergency Services building.
“But… I wouldn’t say things are exactly the way they used to be. No.”
She nods thoughtfully. “Makes sense, I suppose, given all the other things going on.”
“Dr. Colburn,” I blurt. “Do you think people can change? Like, significantly? At their core?”
She blinks. “That’s a big question. What kind of change are we talking about here?”
“Like…” I lean forward in my seat, and the chair pr otests.
“What if someone was entirely sure of who they were and what they wanted, but then from one minute to the next, they… wanted something new? Would you trust that change? Or would you think it’s just a temporary thing brought on by, say, stress and fear, and pretty soon, they’ll go back to who they were before? ”
“Well.” Dr. Colburn taps her mug thoughtfully.
“I think people rarely change significantly without real effort and self-work. We do grow. Learn lessons. Shift our priorities. Discover things about ourselves. Those can feel like changes but are really more of a realignment. True change, on the other hand, takes time. And often some back-and-forth.” She leans in.
“Is there something specific on your mind?”
I swallow hard.
“Robbie,” the doctor prompts, “are you talking about your brother?”
I stare at her for a second . “ Huh?”
“You mentioned in our last session that Mike has been going through a hard time and trying to get back on his feet. Are you wondering about whether he’s changed and grown, and whether you should continue to be open to a relationship with him?”
Oh, Jesus. That’s so far removed from what I was thinking, I almost laugh hysterically. But Dr. Colburn looks so sincere and helpful… And now that she mentions it, I have been thinking about that too. Especially since he came up in my conversation with Ames the other night.
“Ames says Mike’s a narcissist,” I tell her. “Lissa thinks I should block him completely because he doesn’t fit into our future.”
“Hmm. And what do you think? ”