Chapter Fifteen #2
“You just admitted that you’re in love with him. Isn’t that something you want?”
“What if it happens again?” Ryan asked seriously. “What if he cheats on me? What if he leaves? David, I didn’t love him at all, I don’t think, and that was so humiliating. I don’t think I could survive it, if it happened with Wyatt.”
“Darling,” Tabitha said softly, “you can’t go into a relationship expecting it to end.
You have to believe in each other and trust each other.
Trust that Wyatt isn’t going to use some bullshit excuse to cheat on you.
And that if you get worried he will, or that he’s not happy with you, communication is key.
You’d be surprised what people can figure out when they actually talk to each other. ”
“You think I should do this,” Ryan stated. He couldn’t even believe that after being so clear upfront, he’d gone and done the exact thing he’d warned Wyatt not to do.
“I think it’s worth a shot. You two clearly care about each other. I want you to be happy, and I think you were really happy with him.”
“I was.” Ryan hesitated. “I am.”
“Then you should go for it,” Tabitha said, giving him an extra encouraging squeeze.
“What if he turns me down?” Ryan asked, because the fear of that eventuality was terrifying, squeezing the breath out of his lungs.
“Do I think you’re going to say, let’s get together for real, and he falls all over you? No. It’s not that simple. Love isn’t that simple.”
“Groveling, then,” Ryan said.
“There will probably be some groveling involved,” Tabitha hedged.
“Do I get on my knees or . . .”
Tabitha held up a hand. “And that’s where I step out. Whatever you two do in the bedroom or any other room of the house is between you.”
“No, I meant, how should I grovel? Begging? Promises? Gifts?”
“I think,” Tabitha said slowly, “that’s going to depend on two factors. One, who Wyatt is as a person. And two, how pissed off he is at you.”
“And you think he’s really pissed off.” It was unreal that while facing that particular fact, which was something he’d suspected since Wyatt had walked out of the alley, something in his chest started to ache even worse than his head.
“I think that Wyatt is an honorable guy, who keeps his promises, and that he’s in love with you.
He wouldn’t ditch you last night if he wasn’t really pissed off.
” Tabitha stared at him frankly, and Ryan realized there was actually something that she was insinuating but not actually saying.
Which was the scariest thing of all, because Tabitha was renowned for telling the unapologetic truth.
If she was trying to cushion this, then it must be really bad.
“Oh god,” Ryan said, a spike of panic rising through him. He’d thought the worst it could be was groveling, maybe even begging Wyatt to forgive him. And then in the twenty or so minutes since he’d come to terms with his own feelings, he’d seen them in a sort of nebulous, happy-ever-after future.
But what if Wyatt didn’t come back? What if Wyatt came back and didn’t forgive him?
It could be so much worse.
“You might as well just lay it on me,” Ryan said bluntly. “I know you’re holding back, and it doesn’t suit you. I’m already down; I’m not sure it’s going to get much worse.”
“He’s pissed, he’s embarrassed, his pride is in shambles because during your first night out as an official couple, you were all over some waiter dressed in a trashy Halloween costume. But the worst of it is that you definitely hurt him a lot.”
The ache in Ryan’s chest intensified. “I don’t suppose me explaining I was incredibly stupid and never meant to will fix that?”
Tabitha’s look was soft and sympathetic. “We can sure hope it will. Or else I’ll be back here in a few hours with ice cream and more tequila.”
“I have a great idea. We should hire an assassin,” Evan said excitedly.
Wyatt looked up from his hot fudge brownie sundae in surprise.
“He really doesn’t mean that, I swear,” Miles said.
“Doesn’t he?” Wyatt said dully. He shoved the hot fudge around in his bowl and didn’t put the spoon in his mouth. He’d been sitting here for half an hour, watching Miles’ famous caramel crunch ice cream melt in a puddle of hot fudge, barely able to stick a spoonful in his mouth.
He must really look awful because Miles usually took exception to his friends not eating the desserts he made for them, but he hadn’t said a word.
“I’m not sure I do,” Evan revised. “It sounded really badass, though. At one point I thought about hiring an assassin to kill you, Miles, when we first started working together.”
Wyatt was not as surprised by this as he should have been. Evan and Miles, while rapturously in love now, had not always gotten along. And Evan was all for finding unusual solutions to problems, thus the assassin.
“True love,” Miles announced proudly. “That’s really true love right there. You were willing to pay someone a lot more money to get rid of me.”
Evan rolled his eyes but they were still so fond that Wyatt’s heart ached.
Just yesterday it felt like he and Ryan had been on the same path as Miles and Evan.
Instead they’d been heading in the opposite trajectory.
Instead of hating each other at first like his friends, they’d immediately connected.
That first night had been magical, and Wyatt had been so sure that this was the guy.
He was still pretty sure he still felt the same way, under all the anger and the humiliation and the hurt, but he couldn’t believe anymore that Ryan was the right guy.
The right guy wouldn’t want to keep pretending when the reality was better than any fantasy.
Still, he’d come here to Evan and Miles’ place early this morning and after plying him with a gourmet breakfast he had barely been able to choke down, they’d sat him down in front of bad reality television for two hours.
Then Miles had made him the sundae, proclaiming that brownies and caramel crunch ice cream topped with hot fudge could cure any problem. At the very least distract from one.
Wyatt was marginally distracted, but he didn’t really feel any better.
Miles would try to keep him here, and away from Ryan, but Wyatt was beginning to think he should go home, and try to figure out how they were going to proceed.
Would Wyatt stay his personal chef? Would the fake relationship be on?
Could he even get out of that contract he’d stupidly signed, all hopeful and optimistic only a few weeks ago?
Knowing Ryan’s shark of an agent, getting out of it was probably going to be a nightmare. But on the upside, Ryan could probably hire the waiter to take his place pretty easily.
“You don’t have to go back there, you know.
We can go get your stuff. And you can stay with us for awhile.
” Like Wyatt didn’t know Miles and Evan had marathon sex sessions complete with noises he’d really prefer never to hear.
“I can even put out feelers for a new job. There’s so many more opportunities in LA.
With your resume, you’ll get something fast.”
He probably would, Wyatt reasoned. Miles wasn’t even lying. But despite everything, he wasn’t really sure he was ready to quit his current job just yet.
Wyatt didn’t think he was nearly as stubborn as some people—like say, Xander—but once on a path, it was hard to shove him off of it. And he’d fallen in love with Ryan pretty irrevocably. It was probably going to take more than an angel to change his mind.
“I’m tired,” Wyatt finally said. “I’m going home to try to get some sleep.”
He’d gone home from Temple the night before, and had lain awake in bed all night, fully expecting that he would hear Ryan come home from the club with company.
He’d tortured himself for hours, preparing his heart for what he might hear or see the next day.
But he wasn’t sure that Ryan had come home at all, or else he’d come home and been too quiet for Wyatt to hear.
Removing himself from the house and going to Miles’ had seemed like such a good plan, but now he wasn’t sure that being around Miles and Evan was helping him at all, no matter how sympathetic they were.
Or how many assassins Evan was willing to hire.
Miles opened his mouth and Wyatt held up a hand. “I know, I don’t have to. I need to.”
“Well, make sure to text me, tell me how it goes,” Miles said quietly. Evan had faded into the living room, leaving the two friends alone in the kitchen. “I know how rotten you must feel if you can’t even work up an appetite for my caramel crunch ice cream and homemade hot fudge.”
“You even made brownies without walnuts,” Wyatt said ruefully. “I’m sorry I couldn’t enjoy them.”
“I’ll wrap them up,” Miles said, beginning to do just that. “You can snack yourself into a chocolate coma later.”
“Thank you,” Wyatt said. And to his embarrassment, he was near tears. Again.
Miles walked over, handing him the container full of brownies, and wrapped him in a big hug. “You’re a great guy,” he said. “Either Ryan realizes he needs to do better by you, or you’ll find a guy who will. You deserve that.”
Wyatt left, saying a quick goodbye and drove his bike home to Ryan’s house.
Wyatt was not ashamed that when he reached the gate, he kicked off the power on his bike and walked it in. Ryan wouldn’t even know he’d come back. Of course that was assuming he’d noticed he was gone in the first place or that he even gave a shit.
He collapsed in his bed, and as he snuggled into the pillow, couldn’t help but be grateful that they’d been sharing Ryan’s bed. His sheets were thankfully completely Ryan-free.
He fell asleep hoping that Ryan was suffering a little because, unlike his own, his bed wasn’t a Wyatt-free zone.
Ryan took a deep, steadying breath and braced himself for the difficult conversation to come. He knocked twice, trying for soft but determined. If you could even interpret that from a knock.
Nothing.