Chapter 14 #2
It’s not ideal timing to be going away for a week just when he’s starting.
“And everything’s sorted with your travel arrangements?”
“Yes.” My jaw tenses.
I already regret agreeing to meet Alexander in Albuquerque rather than New York. Not because it means we will hopefully have time to clear the air, but because I forgot all about Andrew’s birthday party and I’ll have to miss the celebrations this year as a result.
Olly’s eyes narrow, a flash of confusion appears on his face.
The less he knows about that the better.
“You don’t need to be worrying yourself with my travel plans, you’ve already got a lot to be getting your head around and learn.” I nod at his pad as I get up from the desk and slide my jacket on.
“Will you still be able to catch the Raiders versus Patriots match Sunday?” Ollie asks with a wide grin.
I shake my head. Straight guys and their sports talk.
I guess there’s still so much for us to learn about one another.
Once I’ve chucked my bag in the passenger seat and gotten inside my car, I pull out my phone and see three missed video calls from Stephen.
I ponder driving home before calling him back, but it must be nearly 3 a.m. there and I’ve got an hour before my gym class starts, so I quickly hit the video call button.
“Please don’t be mad at me,” Stephen slurs drunkenly as he answers.
His face stares back at me from a bus stop I vaguely recognize along Charing Cross Road. His teeth are chattering from the cold, and though I can’t make out what he’s wearing, he’s no doubt got some skimpy outfit on despite winter fast approaching.
“I’m not mad. I’m just disappointed,” I say—a lie if he had seen me a few hours ago, but the stress balls helped. Though they didn’t eliminate my anger, especially after his return text where he confirmed my suspicion that they’ve been seeing each other since Kelly’s wedding.
“I didn’t mean to fall in love with him. It just happened.” A snot boogie forms underneath his right nostril.
Love? What the hell? I thought they’d just become boyfriends, and now he’s talking about love.
I take a deep breath, locking my phone into the holder, and start the engine.
“What just happened? Becoming boyfriends or falling in love?” My curt tone doesn’t hide my frustration.
“Both.” He wipes his nose and then the tears from his cheeks with his wrist. His fake tan smudges as he does.
Thank God, there’s an ocean between us right now.
If I was in London, I’d probably be wringing his neck, especially if I had to witness him and Ryan being all affectionate with one another.
But thankfully, I don’t have to. All I have to put up with is the Instagram posts that Stephen will no doubt endlessly share.
The first appeared an hour ago. It was a repost of Ryan’s story, featuring the pair of them holding their winning trophy from Queerz Night Pub Quiz.
A pang of jealousy and envy arose at the sight.
If it was anyone else but Ryan, I’d be happy for Stephen. The fact that he’s finally found someone to settle down with, rather than endlessly scrolling through Grindr or frequenting the gay saunas, would normally be a cause for celebration.
And this is a celebration he wants me to share in with him.
I should be happy for him. He deserves a chance at love.
“You love him then?” I soften slightly, realizing this is more serious than I assumed.
“I do.” Stephen stands up and waves his arm about. “But I love you more and I don’t want to lose our friendship.” His face disappears momentarily as he taps his phone on a card reader and then makes his way down to the back of a bus.
“I’ll break up with him if you want me to?” Stephen says, coming back into view. He chews the bottom of his lip.
Be the bigger person.
Don’t be so stubborn.
I let out a deep exhale and shift the car out of park and into drive.
“No, Stephen. I don’t want that. I want you to be happy. If that means you’re with Ryan, then so be it.” I attempt to swallow down the anger that is bubbling up. “But answer me this one question, how does it work?”
“What do you mean work?” Stephen lifts himself upright and closes the window next to him, revealing a silver mesh vest. No wonder he’s shivering.
“You’re both bottoms, and we know two bottoms don’t make a top.” Laughter fills my lungs as I pull out of the parking garage and make my way to the gym.
The sight of Mel’s Diner opposite the gym, and the smell of their delicious burgers and milkshakes, is far more appealing than the salad bowl that Andrew’s suggesting we have from Sweet Green.
But if I’m seeing Alexander in less than seventy-two hours, I can’t be entertaining junk food.
Not when I’ve worked so hard in these HIIT classes at Equinox to get this six-pack.
Oh, why can’t carbs and sugar create six-packs?
“See you at Mickey’s on Sunday!” Jason shouts as he crosses the street, causing the guilt I’ve been trying to bury all evening to rise back up toward my throat.
All day, I’ve been avoiding telling Andrew about not being able to make his birthday celebrations. I’m scared it will activate his abandonment issues again. Especially now that he’s in this seemingly positive headspace.
“About Sunday,” I start as Andrew pulls the door open to the restaurant. His back muscles pull against his pink running vest. “I’ve got to head to New York for work. I’m not going to be able to make it.”
I wince as I look down at my beaten-up Nikes, anticipating his response.
“Your loss.” Andrew shrugs his shoulders when I look back up.
Wait. That’s it? No anger. No frustration. Just a dismissive shrug.
“I promise I’ll make it up to you. I’ll bring the best present back from New York.” The response falls from my mouth, fear lining every word as Andrew reaches the counter.
“Sure.” His one-word response is void of emotion as he gives his order.
Maybe all those positive mantras have rubbed off on him after all.
The server takes my order as we both work our way along to the cashier.
“Let me get these,” I say, brushing Andrew’s hand from his pocket and grabbing my wallet.
This time, Andrew doesn’t fight off my request, which is also unusual in and of itself. His attention is now on his phone as he fires Grindr open.
I pay for both meals and return my card to my wallet, grabbing my own phone and turning it off of Airplane Mode while the cashier bags our salad bowls individually.
My phone immediately rings and I see Caryn’s name appear.
“I just need to take this,” I say to Andrew, and answer, grabbing my salad bowl and heading to a stall by the window.
“Caryn, what’s up?” I put the phone on speaker and rest it on the table as I pull out the salad container.
Samantha and Heidi from the HIIT class wave at me as they pass the window.
“Have you seen what Alexander’s just posted?”
I stop, my hand resting on the lid. I put the bowl down and grab my phone, opening up Instagram and going to Alexander’s page, but there’s nothing new there.
I switch over to TikTok and the first video that greets me is one of Alexander staring straight into the camera.
He takes a deep breath, his lips moving, but no sound comes out.
“Christopher? Are you still there?” Caryn asks.
“Let me call you right back.”
I hang up before she has a chance to respond.
I feel like I’m about to have an aneurysm. Why do all the men in my life cause me such stress, such anguish? I take a deep breath and go back to TikTok, reaching into my pocket for my air pods, and sliding them into each ear.
Please don’t let this be bad.
Please don’t let this be bad.
I take another deep breath, press my lips together tightly, and press play on the video.