Chapter 13 Casey Joe #2
My heart couldn’t help but get all warm and squishy at the thought of my boys and Jack. Henry and Hudson were the best damn things to ever happen to me, and Jack had easily landed a place in my heart without even trying.
That fullness in my chest was how I knew all the changes coming about—bettering my health, figuring shit out, truly looking forward to a future—weren’t just about Bryce.
Like some damn afterschool special, I’d seen the fuckin’ light, and down the road looked promising whether Bryce was in my life or not. I had a life-long best friend, two of the best kids in the world, and Jack—my second-chance son.
Didn’t mean I wanted to travel down that road without Bryce.
As a friend?
As something…more?
The thoughts had me completely rattled as I browsed the tea selection.
Since the brand was different than what we carried at the Juicy Peach, I grabbed a peach, a lemon, and an apple cinnamon.
“Get another one of the apple for your free one,” Lance suggested. “If you don’t like it, we’ll take it.”
“Hands off my tea, fucker,” I muttered and rolled my eyes with a huff when Lance laughed at me.
We paid for our items and loaded ourselves into the truck.
Lance waited about one mile before he started back in with his shit. “So, is it just Bryce? Or…?”
I groaned. “Fuck, man.”
“Right,” Lance said. “Is that what you want to do?”
I missed the joke until the fucker laughed. “Shut the fuck up, that was—”
Lance got his laughter under control and held up a hand. “Sorry, that was bad.” He gestured for me to go on.
I didn’t.
He sighed. “Good lord, man. Words. They’re for explaining and sharing. Use them.”
Words didn’t come.
Lance clapped me on the shoulder. “So, when I came home and told you I was into guys—”
I grunted. “You mean when I caught you railin’ my son?”
He winced. “Yeah, that. And we really were going to tell you.”
I ignored that.
“Anyway, when your boys came out, and when I figured my shit out, did you know back then or is this a recent development?”
Steamy locker rooms blurred my thoughts.
Flashes of sweaty, naked bodies.
The sinewy strength, solid presence, and hard lines of my teammates.
Girls were—expected. The only realistic option. It wasn’t like sex with girls was unpleasant for me. They just weren’t—
I took a deep breath and slowly blew it out.
“Way back then, I wouldn’t even let myself think about it.
” Shaking my head, heavy memories of so many years of cloying fear and loathing very real in my mind, I went on.
“I mean, I thought about it, but every single time anything about guys crossed my mind, I buried it deeper and deeper, swearing I’d do better. ”
“How old were you?” Lance asked.
Huffing, I allowed a bit more of the past to paint images in my head, my eyes focused on the road even though my thoughts were a million miles away.
“Probably eighth grade when I had my first crush. The football coach.” The tight knot in the pit of my belly loosened slightly.
“That was easiest to ignore because it was just a role model, someone I looked up to.”
Lance nodded, waiting on me to go on.
“It was a lot harder to ignore in tenth grade when it was the coach’s son.
” I tapped my thumb on the steering wheel.
“Sometimes I wish things back then were more like they were today,” I mused.
“But then I maybe wouldn’t have my boys.
So, I pushed away the longin’ that ate away at me.
Did a lot more lookin’ at girls and convinced myself I didn’t feel somethin’ more when I looked at guys. Ended up with Missy.”
“So, you’re bi or pan?” Lance asked.
I shrugged. “Probably. Not sure I need or want a label. I just know I’m not straight.
” For a moment, a tight shot of anxiety swirled through me.
It was the first time I’d said those words out loud to anyone other than myself in the quiet dark of my dreams. I swallowed thickly, grateful for my best friend.
“You know Missy and me were oil and water from the very beginnin’—sure as shit didn’t have it in me to worry about thinkin’ guys were hot when I was dealin’ with a toxic relationship, school, and a job.
” I ran a hand over my face. “She got pregnant, we got married, and nothin’ else had time to surface.
When she left, and all that shit went down with Billy, all the hurt and betrayal buried me so far down, it’s a wonder I ever dug myself back to the top. ”
Lance’s hand on my shoulder had my throat clogging with emotion. “Now that you’re healing, you’ve got a lot more time to get to know the real you.”
I nodded and cleared my throat. “Yeah, somethin’ like that.”
“You ever think the smoking and drinking and digging yourself deeper and deeper into the abyss were ways to cover up a part of yourself you didn’t want to deal with?” Lance asked.
I grunted. “Fuck off.”
He chuckled. “Sorry.”
Taking a deep breath, I let it out with a whoosh. “No, it’s okay. Just the same shit my fuckin’ therapist was sayin’ the other day.”
We drove in silence for a few moments.
As I pulled the truck into the parking lot of a rental place, Lance asked, “So, are you just sitting with this information? Or planning on doing something with it?”
Fuck.
That sure as shit was the question, wasn’t it?
I grunted and got out of the truck. Lance joined me on the driver side, and we headed toward the entrance.
Lance slapped me on the back. “You don’t have to have it all figured out, ya know?”
I glanced at him, part of me thinking he was full of shit, and part of me wanting to beg him to promise me everything was going to be okay.
“Unless figuring it all out is what you want to do,” Lance hedged.
I sighed as we reached the door. “Fuck if I know.”
Lance nodded. “It’s okay. You have time.”
Huffing out a heavy breath, I yanked open the door. “That’s a bunch of bullshit, and we both know it. I may not know exactly what I want to do with all this shit, but I know I wasted half my life. I’m fuckin’ done with that shit for sure.”
“Well, then,” Lance said with a smile. “This ought to be fun.”