Chapter 9
Damon
Liam makes it two and a half hours before his body tries to expel the poison.
Tough go for us tonight.
I knew he’d had too much to drink when he took me down in the foyer and promptly fell asleep on top of me. Because of that, I grabbed a pillow and am attempting to sleep on the floor of his room just to make sure he doesn’t aspirate.
While I’m down here, I think about my brother’s boyfriend, Knox, and the way he cared for my brother after a jet-ski accident before they were even together. I make a mental note to tell Knox—again—how much I appreciate that he was there for Tay when I wasn’t.
Thinking of Knox makes me pause, a small smile coming to my lips. Despite the drastic age gap between Knox and Liam, the two favor each other in the way they keep their facial hair trimmed, the color of their dark hair, hell, even the shape of their jawlines is similar.
I guess Tay and I have the same taste.
He would find that hilarious.
At the first disgusting sound of Liam losing the keeping-the-alcohol-down battle, I’m pulled from my thoughts. Bolting upright, I roll him to his side and stick the bowl under his face.
He’s so fucked up, he doesn’t even wake up through the whole ordeal. When there’s a break in the mess, I grab a wet washcloth from the bathroom and clean him up as best I can.
And so it goes until six a.m. when he finally opens his eyes and sees me sitting over him, wiping his forehead with a fresh cold cloth.
“Death. I feel like fucking death,” he mutters, making me laugh despite the heaviness of the conversation that lies between us.
“You look like it, too,” I tell him, wiping at his forehead again.
He assesses me for a minute, and I think he’s about to tell me I don’t look any better. Instead, he says, “You’re spinning too fast for me to tell what you look like.”
“Christ, Li, how much did you drink for you to still be drunk after puking your guts out all night?”
He groans. “Is that why my mouth tastes like rotten garbage?”
“Yep. I’ll be right back,” I tell him, slipping from the bed.
When you stay at a certain level of accommodation, the resort concierge will do a lot to keep you happy. About an hour ago, I made the call for grape Gatorade, saltine crackers, and Coca-Cola, being intimately familiar with Liam’s preferred hangover remedy.
Walking back into Li’s room, I hold the drinks up for him to choose.
“Gatorade,” he croaks.
I uncap it, handing it to him as he scoots himself upright to take a sip.
“Fuuuuuuck,” he whines, pausing his movements.
“Looks like we’re finally taking a rest day,” I tease, savoring the normalcy of the moment…until Liam speaks again.
“Don’t stay in on my account. I’m not going to be good company anyway.”
“Liam, I’m not going skiing and leaving you in this state to fend for yourself,” I tell him, annoyed that he thinks I’d even consider that.
“Hmph” is all he says before sliding back down into his pillow and falling asleep again.
Li isn’t ready to face the world until noon. After a shower and a very aggressive brushing of his teeth, he moseys into the living room to get settled.
To my dismay, he chooses the recliner, and I know he’s doing it to avoid me. I’ll let him have his pity party for a little bit longer, but then we’re going to hash our shit out.
Being in limbo like this is the worst kind of hell.
He was right; this isn’t us.
I know I fucked up by not telling him what I learned when I learned it—stupid me for thinking Patrick would make the right choice this time—but Liam and I always talk through things, and this shit with his dad will be no different.
It can’t be, because I’m not going to let Patrick’s fuckup take my best friend from me.
When Liam falls into the recliner, I notice he’s found a new pair of sweatpants and put his hoodie on as well. I’d left him in nothing but his boxers when I tucked him in, knowing he’d end up sweating all night, but I guess we’ve hit the fever-stage of his hangover.
I get up, handing him the remote to the TV before making my way into the kitchen, where I grab a sleeve of saltines and a Coke.
“Thanks,” he mutters, taking the offering as I come back into the living room.
I resume my spot on the couch, where I steal glances at him every few minutes.
The way he’s changing his position frequently is an indicator of how miserable he is.
Li’s too big for the small recliner, and by the time he starts making whimpering sounds and pinching the bridge of his nose, I know his headache is pretty severe as well.
If this were a regular day, Li would already be stretched out on the couch with his legs draped across me like before, or his head in my lap so I could rub his scalp.
Sighing, I pat the couch next to me.
“I hate this. Get over here.”
The man actually pushes his lips into a pout. “I’m still mad.”
“Fine, just be mad over here.”
With movements that are caught somewhere between reluctance and relief, Liam stands and shuffles to the couch. He has a blanket wrapped around him and falls onto the furthest couch cushion, keeping his knees bent to avoid touching me.
Unable to stand it anymore, I grab his ankles and pull his legs across my lap, massaging his feet, shins, and calves.
He groans. “God, that feels good, but I’m kinda pissed that it does.”
I chuckle because I get it.
“Can we talk now?” I ask, feeling a lot better about hashing this out while part of him is in my lap.
It’s probably a little dirty, asking for this conversation while he feels like shit, but at least I know he won’t run from me.
He can’t stay standing for more than two minutes without needing to lie down.
Sensing my master plan, he cuts his eyes at me. “I don’t really feel like I have much say in the matter since I’m sort of a captive audience here.”
“I don’t want to force you, Li. I just want the truth out there so we can move on, because this level of hell we’re in right now fucking sucks.”
“Yeah, okay,” he reluctantly agrees before diving right in. “So, you’ve just forgiven him, huh?”
I need to choose my words carefully here because a lot is on the line. Hell, everything is on the line.
“Well, I didn’t just wake up and decide to forgive him if that’s what you’re asking. As it turns out, my brother thought…” I pause, acutely aware this isn’t my story to tell, but I’m tired of being stuck in the middle.
“Your brother thought what?” Liam presses.
“He thought your dad was in love with him.”
Liam’s eyes widen. “Why the fuck would he think that?”
I can feel him starting to pull away from me, and I want nothing more than to soothe his pain, but I have to press on. Absentmindedly, I start rubbing his shin back and forth just to occupy my hands.
“Apparently, your dad and Taylor were pretty serious. They had planned to tell both families last Thanksgiving, but you and I walked in on them first. Your dad panicked about your reaction and threw Tay under the bus, blaming him for the whole relationship. He broke my brother’s heart and left him to deal with the fallout on his own. ”
Anger paints Liam’s features. “Why would you say that?”
I sigh, staring out the window as a new layer of snow falls. It’s hard to believe that clear sky and those bright stars were just last night. The winter weather can be so trippy in the mountains. “Because it’s true. Remember Tay’s accident?”
“Yeah, I mean, I was the one who told my dad about it after you called me.”
“Well, did your dad tell you he showed up at my brother’s apartment right before Tay was in that accident? That he’d been trying to get him back even though Tay was seeing someone new?”
“What?” Liam seethes, pulling his legs back to sit up. “Ow, fuck,” he says before quickly lying back down.
“I know this is hard to hear, Li,” I tell him in sympathy, remembering how shocked I was after hearing it myself.
“Your dad came to the hospital and finally told my whole family the truth about what happened, and it wasn’t what he told you and me after we caught them.
” I look over at him to assess how he’s doing, but I must be taking too long because he snaps.
“Well, get it out, then.”
“You know Taylor would go over to check on your dad since you and I were both gone. He helped Patrick through his grief like I helped you, and…hmhm,” I clear my throat before continuing, “feelings developed…on both sides. But your dad was so afraid of losing you and his relationship with my parents that he devised a story of seduction, painting Tay as the aggressor. We all took your dad’s side, of course, because Taylor is…
well, Taylor, and we knew your dad was struggling…
and straight. His story made sense, but ultimately, he used my brother’s confidence against him and broke his heart.
Not only did your dad admit that, but he admitted that he’s still in love with Taylor.
Which means I’ve spent the last ten months being mad at the wrong person.
Taking your dad’s side of the story caused a lot of friction in my family, Li.
Tay didn’t deserve that. Just like I didn’t deserve to have to choose between my brother and my best friend.
Just like you shouldn’t have to choose between me and your dad. ”
When I finish, we’re both silent as a new movie begins playing in the background, and the snow keeps falling outside the windows.
“I honestly don’t know what to say,” Liam whispers, breaking the silence.
“Can I ask you something?”
Liam shrugs, obviously still processing.
“You never seemed to have an issue with Taylor’s sexuality. If your dad is bisexual, would it be that big of a deal?”
If the answer is yes, I’ll just go ahead and start digging the grave of our friendship.