42. Salem
SALEM
T he ping of an alert stirs me awake. I must have turned at some point in the night because Blue’s no longer in my arms. He’s there, curled against my back. I shuffle forward to create space, turn, and slip my arm across his chest, then pull him closer.
I think it’s morning, but his curtains are blacked out, so I can’t tell. I reach behind me and pluck up my phone, and my fingers scrape over paper.
I angle my head, hoping to get a peek at more of his lyrics. Instead, I see the envelope I had delivered with the cake.
He kept it.
I would have too, but you never know with him.
I turn and kiss the side of his head before I click on my screen and catch the time. 7:47 a.m . Damn. I have to head back sooner than I thought. I click on Cillian’s text.
Cillian
You gud, bro?
Me
Yeah. Why?
I’m about to toss my phone back when three dots appear.
Huh. It’s early for him. Wait, no, he’s three hours ahead.
Cillian
Cool. Know y’all aren’t exclusive. Just checking.
Me
***
My stomach churns as three dots jump around.
Then a link pops up. My finger hovers over it.
I stare down at Blue, then back at the headline “Arnaz Cade’s Secret Affair with Assistant Coach.”
Bullshit.
A photo of Blue appears. He’s in the same clothes as last night, and he’s huddled close to a man I immediately recognize as his college coach, who spoke out in support of Blue when he came out. I scroll down and double back on Blue’s apparent quotes.
“Still single?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were gay?”
Calling bullshit, I’m about to exit when voices blare from the screen. I scroll down, then back up again until I find the video.
He stirs as I fight through ads to try to hit pause. My hand hovers as the ads end, and Blue’s there trading an easy grin with his coach, who blushes and shifts closer— too close.
“Said wake me with your dick,” Blue groans. “Not your phone.”
I lock my phone and rub my hand over my mouth. He was with me last night , I say to myself, despite the unease in my gut.
It just looks bad because they’re standing so close.
Why are they standing so close?
“Lube. Condom,” he mutters.
His eyes crack open when I don’t respond.
“Hey.” I try for calm, but my throat’s too tight.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
I shuffle to sit up. “I’m sure it’s nothing but, you, uhm…” I take a deep breath to steady my voice. “You and your coach from college. I saw him on the bench at one of your games. Have you two, uh, dated?”
He blinks rapidly. “Wh-what?”
For all that he tries to hide, his face conceals very little.
Huh. “You’re seeing us both?”
“What? No.” He sits up. “’Cause he joined my team?”
I unlock my phone and pass it to him.
He scrolls up to the headline, and his eyes narrow. “This isn’t true.” He thumbs through the article. “I’m not into him like that.”
“Were you ever?”
He stills. “This isn’t true.”
“Answer the question.”
He blows out a breath. I see the wheels spinning as he averts his gaze to the curtained window.
“We were close back in college. Nothing happened, though. I was messed up back then, and…” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I did try to make a move, but he…” He shakes his head. “Nothing happened.”
“Okay—”
“Hold on. Let me finish. I got drafted a few weeks later, and I put it behind me. But then he showed up.”
“To the Royals?”
He nods. “I didn’t think I’d see him again, and there he was. It messed me up.”
The low-scoring games, the tired eyes…It’s all snapping into place.
The damn-near ghosting me.
The spasms in my gut intensify. “Because you’re still in love with him?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I’m not.”
“Then what about him returning messed you up?”
“The practice after he joined the team, he, uh, told me he felt the same for me back then.”
A sharp chill spreads across my back. “Why would he tell you that all these years later?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know, and I honestly don’t care.”
“Just like that?”
He squints. “What do you mean?”
“I’m missing something. You went from being ‘messed up’ to being plastered together yesterday. How?”
“Salem. I’m not lying to you. I don’t want him.”
“Answer the question.”
“We were at Ty’s house.”
“Ty and Sid’s?”
He shakes his head. “Just Ty’s. I mean, Sid was there too. Ty invited some guys over to talk about mental health and stuff, and Aiden showed up. I didn’t invite him.”
“How did it lead to the bar?”
“He talked about what he was going through back then, and it led us to clear the air.”
“There’s clearing the air, then there are bodies pressed together,” I point out.
“It wasn’t like that. We were all at the bar—the whole group. It was crowded, and he slid into the spot next to me.”
I look away from him and try to get my thoughts straight. I’m angry, and I don’t know why. Lucien saw other people—people we’d run into sometimes—and it didn’t bother me.
“Let me see if I got this straight. You fell in love with him in college. He rejected you. You haven’t spoken in years. He’s back now. And not only is he back, but he told you he was in love with you too. And all of it messed you up. Is that the reason you fell off from us before Milwaukee?”
He doesn’t answer.
“Wow.”
“Hold on. It wasn’t like that,” he hurries to say.
“Yeah…I’m gonna go.”
“Come on, Salem. I’m being honest with you.”
A dark chuckle leaps from my chest. “Why? ’Cause of the article?”
“What?”
“Were you gonna tell me about any of this if the article didn’t drop?”
“There isn’t anything to tell!” he insists.
The hell there isn’t.
I scoff. “The man you were in love with is back in your life, and he admits to you that he was in love with you too. And you work with him every day. How isn’t that anything to tell?
” I pull my jeans out of my duffel and stab my foot through a leg.
“I get having unfinished business. But you straight-up put me on the back burner to deal with him? You didn’t think you could tell me? ”
“Hold on.” He moves to stand in front of me. “I disappeared from everyone.”
Cool. So, I’m everyone . “I have to go.”
“Wait. Hold up.”
I pause.
“I didn’t understand it until my session with my therapist, but I dissociated or something.”
Was I just a replacement for the one that got away? “This whole time, were you just dragging me along ’cause you’ve been holding out for him?”
“No. That’s what I’m trying to explain. These last few weeks weren’t about him at all.”
Brick by brick, the dread I’ve felt the last few weeks crumbles, but instead of relief, I feel dislocated. I’ve been dreaming of a future with someone still in love with the past.
“Talk to me,” he pleads.
“I...” I shrug. “It shouldn’t be this hard.”
“What. Us?”
“Yeah. Us.”
“Bullshit.”
My eyes narrow. “What?”
“What about this shouldn’t be hard?”
“I don’t know, Blue. Usually, when you love someone, it feels easier than this.”
“Yeah, for you, maybe. I don’t date.” He jabs his thumb into his chest. “I. Never. Dated. Until you. When have I ever hinted that any of this is easy for me? I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. I didn’t come from a perfect family?—”
“Perfect?” I huff and bend to grab my duffel. “Denzel missing is perfect?”
“I didn’t mean it like that. Wait.”