4. Mark
4
MARK
“ O h God, I think I’m dying,” Jesse gasped as we rounded a curve on the running path. Downtown Savannah wasn’t a super hilly area, but the path we’d taken wound its way out of town and into a park that had a bit of elevation. The incline wasn’t steep, but it was continuous.
“It flattens out soon, I promise.” I glanced at Jesse to make sure he looked alright. His cheeks were flushed, which made his high cheekbones stand out even more, and his eyes were bright with exertion.
He blew a stray piece of hair up off his forehead from where it had flopped down into his eyes, and I had to stop myself from laughing. For all that he was complaining, he actually looked pretty good. Not that I was looking at him like that . But just, generally speaking.
“You don’t look like you’re dying,” I added.
“Appearances can be deceiving,” he huffed. “I’m dying. Trust me.”
I laughed. “We’re not that far from my place. If you want, we can swing by there for a water break.”
“Oh my God, yes, please.” Jesse threw me a grateful look, and a weird feeling shot through me—a jolt of something hot and sweet in my core. Maybe I was getting a cramp.
“Come on,” I said, angling us towards a cross street. “We can turn in here. It’s not much farther.”
“I’m thanking every running deity in existence,” Jesse said as we turned, and the route flattened out a bit. “You didn’t warn me there were going to be so many hills on this route. I’m congenitally unable to run hills, I think. My inner Floridian can’t handle them.”
“Coastal Georgia isn’t exactly the Alps.”
“To you sporty types, maybe,” he grumbled. “You’ve forgotten what reality is like for us normals. We understand that a hill is a hill, even if it’s not the Matterhorn.”
This was the second of our weekly long runs, two weeks after I’d first met Jesse at the Flamingo. I still couldn’t really believe I’d agreed to run a marathon with someone I’d just met, but oddly, I didn’t regret it. Something about Jesse had just seemed fun when I’d met him, and so far, that was proving to be true.
Sure, he was a bit dramatic about our training runs, peppering them with remarks about how I was trying to kill him—but it did keep things entertaining. He just seemed so at ease with himself, so willing to speak his mind. It was infectious.
“I didn’t realize Florida was home for you,” I said, leaping over a puddle that had formed in a dip in the sidewalk. “How long have you been up here in Savannah?”
“A little over a year.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Is it?” Jesse frowned. “I feel like most of the people I meet here are born-and-bred Georgians.”
“Well, long compared to me, I guess.”
He laughed. “Well, you know. I’m not someone to do things halfway. If I’m going to try to save a failing relationship and hang on way past the point that I should, I’m going to really commit to that hanging on. No giving up at a reasonable time for me.”
“Was it that bad the whole time?” I asked.
Jesse breathed in silence for a moment and didn’t answer. I winced. Maybe I was prying. Just because I felt strangely comfortable around him didn’t mean he felt the same.
“Sorry,” I said. “You don’t have to answer that.”
“No, it’s fine,” he said, breathing hard. “I was just thinking about it. Trying to give you a real answer, you know. I mean, it was and it wasn’t. It’s not like it was terrible all the time. There were still enough good moments, at least for most of it, to make me think that all the nagging doubts I had were just me being paranoid, and not actually him treating me badly.”
“That sucks.”
“Yeah, it does.” Jesse made a face. “It didn’t start to get really bad ‘til the end. Tanner just withdrew so much, and when I think about it now, I think he was hoping I’d get sick of it and break up with him, so he wouldn’t have to be the bad guy. But I was clinging to this dream that if I just hung on long enough, things would get better. It was almost a relief when I found out he was cheating on me.”
My eyes widened. “What? Why? That’s terrible.”
“Well, yeah. It is. I’m not like, glad it happened. But I don’t know, maybe I needed something like that as a wake-up call. Like, ‘ Hi, I really am a dick, and you really do need to dump me ,’ you know? Who knows how long I would have lasted otherwise? God, that makes me sound pathetic, doesn’t it?”
Jesse flashed me another grin, and I felt that weird tingle again.
“Not pathetic at all,” I said, pushing the feeling aside. “I think it shows that you’re a good person who tries to see the best in people.”
“Well, an idiot then. At least that.”
“Why?”
“Uh, for loving someone who didn’t love me back? Who was lying to me?” His voice was bitter. “It’s like I was the last person in a group to find something out, except it was a group of two, and the thing I found out was that he didn’t want to be with me.”
“There’s nothing to be ashamed of in loving someone who didn’t love you back. You opened your heart to someone and made yourself vulnerable. That’s amazing, not embarrassing. It’s kinda like, the whole point. Of life, you know? But at the same time, you don’t need a guy to make you whole.”
“I didn’t realize I was getting an inspirational pep talk along with a run today,” Jesse said with a grin. “I wish I’d brought a recorder so I could play this back the next time I’m drowning my sorrows in a pint of ice cream. Or beer, for that matter.
I flushed. I hadn’t meant to come on so strong, or sound so vehement. I just didn’t want him to think that he’d done anything wrong, or think that the takeaway should be not to trust people. He seemed like such a great guy. I didn’t want him to get his spirits crushed.
I might not be able to fix my own life, but I could try to help him.
“I’m just trying to say that being treated badly doesn’t make you an idiot. It just makes your ex an asshole. You deserve better.” Jesse’s cheeks got even pinker and he gave me a strange look. “What?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. “You do.”
“Mark, you’ve known me for two weeks. I appreciate the sentiment, but for all you know, I could be a heartless asshole. I could be the kind of person who kicks puppies.”
“Says the guy who made us stop running a mile back so he could coo over a bulldog? They’re not even cute, and you had to stop to pet it.”
“Um, bulldogs are adorable, and there's something wrong with you if you can’t see that. So I’m officially not believing any compliments you give me anymore.”
“A bulldog’s face looks like a cupcake that someone smushed on the floor.”
“See, you obviously don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe you’re the heartless one.”
“Well, I still wouldn’t cheat on you.” The words left my mouth before I could stop them, and Jesse’s head whipped around to look at me in surprise. “I mean, or anybody. Whoever I was dating.”
I clamped my lips shut before I could say anything else. I’d probably only made it worse.
Why did I have to be so awkward? I didn’t want Jesse thinking I was hitting on him, because I definitely wasn’t. I liked women, for one thing, and even if I had liked men, I wouldn’t be trying to flirt with a guy who’d just gone through a bad breakup. A guy who was literally my only friend in town.
“Oh, your face is priceless right now,” Jesse said, laughing in between gasps of breath. “Don’t worry, I’m not suddenly going to fall in love with you.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I said, but I left my explanation there.
What had I meant, actually? I didn’t want Jesse to think I was hitting on him, but the idea that he might end up liking me? Weirdly, a little bit of warmth blossomed in my core at the thought.
Maybe it was just because I didn’t know anyone else in Savannah. And Jesse was a great guy, from what I could tell. It was probably just nice to feel like someone liked me, even just as a friend.
“Besides, I’m sure you have a girlfriend back home in…Chicago, right?” he said.
I nodded. “Yeah, Chicago. But no, actually. I don’t.”
“Really?” His eyebrows climbed towards his scalp. “Somehow I find that hard to believe. Unless, are you here because you’re running away from a devastating breakup? Or hiding in shame after declaring unrequited love for your childhood best friend? That would be juicy.”
“No,” I laughed. “Nothing that dramatic. I’m just—”
I stopped for a second, scrolling through options in my head. I couldn’t actually tell him why I was here. I’d barely told anyone, aside from Gabe and my family. And I wouldn’t have even told them, if it had been avoidable. I’d just met Jesse. It didn’t matter how great he seemed, I didn’t want to put this on him.
I needed a friend, I realized now. I couldn’t risk losing Jesse by making him feel awkward or uncomfortable around me, and there was nothing like admitting you had PTSD for making people feel uncomfortable. I was honestly pretty sure he’d react better if I lied and said I was the kind of person who kicked puppies, than if I admitted the truth.
“I’m just trying to figure out what to do next, I guess,” I finished with a lame smile.
“You and me both,” he said wryly. “You and me both.”
We made the final turn, and Gigi’s place came into view. It sat back from the street in a big green yard, a majestic old Queen Anne with a wrap-around porch. Gigi was out in the front yard deadheading flowers as we jogged up the sidewalk. Jesse’s eyes widened as I turned up the driveway.
“You live here ?” he asked, drawing in a sharp breath.
“Yeah. But it’s not mine. I’m just helping my grandmother fix it up so she can sell it.”
“It’s beautiful,” he breathed. His eyes scanned the building from top to bottom. “It’s like something out of a storybook.”
“It’s also leaky, full of peeling wallpaper, and liable to give way beneath you if you step on certain floorboards.”
“Still.” His eyes roamed across the building again as we walked across the lawn to the front door.
“Hey, Gigi,” I said, waving at my grandmother as we got close. She straightened, clippers in hand, and shaded her eyes to look at us. I gave her a big smile. “We just stopped by for a water break.”
Jesse smiled eagerly and stepped forward. “Hi, I’m Jesse. You have such a lovely home.”
“You want this derelict old pile? It might fall down around you, but I’ll sell it to you for a song.” Gigi took his hand and shook it vigorously. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jesse. I’m so glad you convinced Mark to run this marathon.”
“It was the other way around, actually,” Jesse laughed. “And if I hadn’t given my heart to another derelict old pile, I’d say yes.”
I gave Gigi a quick, sweaty hug before heading inside, and Jesse followed me up the porch steps and back into the kitchen.
“Your grandma’s so nice,” he said as I handed him a glass of water. “It’s so sweet of you to live with her. I wish I’d gotten to know any of my grandparents, but we don’t really talk to my dad’s side of the family, and my mom’s parents died when I was young.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, and he shrugged.
“It’s not a big deal,” he said. “But I think it’s great you’re going to get to spend time with her.”
“Well, for now,” I said, taking a gulp of water. I set the glass down on the counter as I swallowed. “But the whole point of me helping her fix the house is so that she can sell it and move somewhere with a ‘ dry heat ,’ whatever that means. She says she doesn’t want to be a burden to us, which I’ve told her is stupid, but she’s convinced.”
Jesse’s eyes got a faraway look before he answered. “I can understand that,” he said, finally. “My mom used to say that all the time, how she hated being a burden to me and my sister. She has MS and needs a lot of help getting around. I love her and don’t mind, and she knows that, but still. When my sister moved home, my mom was happy that I could move up here. She told me I was finally going to get to follow my dreams instead of taking care of her.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize…that is really sweet of you to take care of your mom like that.
“I guess.” Jesse gave me a small smile. “I don’t know. It was hard sometimes, but it’s just what you do for someone you love, you know?”
“Is that why you want to go back home?”
He sighed. “Honestly, I don’t even know. I kind of don’t want to, actually, because I feel like I’d be letting her down. She really wanted me to have a chance to succeed, now that I didn’t need to be available to her all the time. So I miss her, but I also feel like I don’t have anything to show for myself after being gone for over a year.” He grimaced. “Wow, this conversation has gotten super depressing. Can we start running again so that I can only talk in grunts?”
“You’re actually volunteering to run more?” I asked, incredulous. “I think we’ve finally found a way to motivate you. I’ll just chase you down the street reading depressing statistics from Wikipedia .”
“This is going to be a long two miles back to town.”
“About that,” I said, as Jesse handed me his glass. “Before we met up this morning, I went for a warm-up run and then ran into town to meet you, instead of driving.”
“How long?”
“Five miles,” I said, feeling myself flush again. “I shouldn’t have, because I’ve been feeling a blister build up for the last few. Do you mind if I actually don’t run back into town with you?”
“You mean do I mind if you don’t run two additional miles on top of the, what, nine that you’ve already run?” Jesse laughed. “Nah, I think you’re off the hook.”
“But you have to actually run back,” I said as we walked through the hallway to the front door. “No slacking off just because I’m not there to keep an eye on you.”
“Oh don’t worry, I’ll make sure to picture your eyes on me the whole way home,” he said, then laughed abruptly. “Wow, I did not realize how suggestive that sounded until I said it. But you know what I mean.”
Did I? I said goodbye to Jesse and wandered upstairs to shower, turning his words over in my mind. Maybe the problem wasn’t what Jesse meant, but what I meant. I was pretty sure he was just being playful with me. That seemed like his M.O.
But why did it feel like it was working?
I was still thinking about it as I stepped out of the shower and back into my bedroom to get changed. Jesse had joked about me having my eyes on him, and it was true that I could still see him in my mind’s eye. The light flush in his cheeks, the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed. The way his T-shirt had clung to his lean frame as he ran.
It wasn’t until I’d slipped my towel off that I realized I was hard. Jesus, where had that come from? It couldn’t be from thinking about Jesse, could it?
I lay back on my bed and tried to think it through. I’d only ever dated women, only ever been interested in them. Or so I’d thought.
Sure, there had been a few times when I’d caught a glimpse of another guy in a locker room or in some state of undress and I’d felt…something. I didn’t know what. Just something stirring inside of me.
But I’d always told myself that could happen to anybody. It didn’t mean I was attracted to men, just that I’d probably gone a little while without getting any kind of physical release.
Was that what was happening now? It had been a long time. And I was barely sleeping these days. That could be playing a role, too, making me confused. Or maybe I was just reacting to being physically close to Jesse, or to him being nice to me.
But that couldn’t explain why I kept picturing his lips when he smiled, the way they pulled back, slightly crooked, and made me wonder what they would feel like to kiss. What it would be like to run my tongue along them, to taste the inside of his mouth, to feel his stubble pressed against my face.
The only thing that could explain it, I realized, was that I was attracted to Jesse. And not because he was funny, sweet, and made me feel like I’d known him for years. Or at least, not just because of that. I couldn’t stop picturing his eyes, his smile, his body. I couldn’t explain what it meant or where it was coming from. But I wanted him. The evidence was right in front of me—and in my hand, before I could stop myself. It was that simple.
I circled the tip of my cock with my fingers, teasing it lightly as I pictured Jesse smiling. Then I pumped up and down the shaft in long, steady strokes, imagining his eyes, and how surprised he would be if I kissed him. Would he pull away, confused? Or would he kiss me back, those eyes of his saying everything our lips couldn’t?
Would he let me undress him, let me see what was underneath his running clothes? Would he want to see me without mine on? I wondered what he’d think if he knew I was stroking myself, my cock hard at the thought of getting him naked.
He’d probably be shy, and make some kind of self-deprecating remark about his body, which was stupid, because as far as I could tell, it was perfect. I liked to picture the smooth lines of his torso, slim and quick. I wanted to run my hands up and down his frame.
I pumped my cock harder now, feeling the stimulation build. Would he want to see me naked? To see how hard I was for him? He’d made it clear that he was into guys, but he also clearly thought I was straight. Hell, I’d always thought I was straight too, until, well, a few minutes ago.
What would he do if he knew I was picturing those sweet lips of his sliding along my cock, sucking me in? Would he be interested? Or would he tell me to get a grip, that just because he was gay, that didn’t mean he wanted every guy who crossed his path?
Pre-cum leaked from my slit, and I smoothed it around the warm, firm tip of my cock, letting it increase the stimulation I was feeling. My hand gripped the head, hot and wet. God, I wished it were Jesse’s mouth. I wanted to see him, naked, taking all of me. I wanted him to touch himself while he sucked me off. I wanted to see how hard I could make him in return.
Fuck, I was closer to the edge than I thought. I could feel an orgasm building deep inside of me, and I increased my tempo, bucking my hips up into my hand, imagining Jesse there in bed with me, next to me, waiting for me to release. Waiting for me to fill his mouth.
How was it possible to want someone so badly when you’d just met them? How was it possible to want a guy this badly when you’d only ever considered women before? I didn’t have any answers. All I knew was that I wanted to show Jesse how much he turned me on. Wanted to tell him every depraved thought that was playing in my mind right now, wanted to show him how weak he made me. I wanted his skin against mine.
I came, hot and slick, into my hand, and pumped up and down my length, squeezing out every drop. I rode out the waves of my orgasm, shuddering on the bed, picturing Jesse taking everything I had to give him. Christ, I wanted that.
As my breathing finally slowed back down, I realized I’d worked up a sweat as I’d touched myself. So much for my shower. I was as drenched as if I’d just come in from my run.
My chest heaved as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. I’d jerked myself off, thinking about a Jesse. Thinking about a man.
Did that mean I was gay? Or bi? Was it just a one-time thing? And was it just Jesse I was attracted to, or guys in general?
How the hell could I only be realizing this about myself now? And how was I supposed to figure this out, without making things more complicated? I couldn’t just wander around Savannah trying to picture every man I saw naked and waiting to see if my dick got hard.
I laughed, low and exhausted. I was a mess. Everything else in my life was fucked up. In a weird way, it made sense that my sex life would suddenly go haywire too.
The thing was, it wasn’t Jesse, or even the idea of liking guys, that was throwing me. It was unexpected, and possibly something I should talk about with the therapist I’d started seeing. But in and of itself, it didn’t bother me.
It was the lack of control that made me nervous, that sent my senses skittering and made my breath come in short and fast. I didn’t like things I couldn’t control. Didn’t handle situations well when I couldn’t predict what was coming. I was trying to get my feet back under me, trying to learn how to be a regular human again. I didn’t have room for a sexual orientation crisis on top of everything else.
Besides, Jesse was my only friend in town. I wasn’t going to put our friendship at risk just because I’d had some weird thoughts about him sucking me off. The guy had just gone through a breakup, anyway. Now was not the time to be messing with his head—or my own.
If I mentioned this to my therapist, I was sure she’d want to talk about it. Explore it, sit with it, discuss what it made me feel. And that was the last thing I wanted.
I just had to box this up. I had too much going on, and so did Jesse. It wasn’t fair for either of our lives to get messed up just because I hadn’t gotten laid in a while, and my brain was too tired to remember the difference between women and men anymore.
So I’d box it up.
I would.
As soon as I could get his eyes out of my mind.