5. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Elijah
A little over a week after the car repairs turned into a socially awkward failure of a reconnection, I ran into William in the most unlikely of places—my front porch as I was hurrying out the door to meet with a few different local business owners. I’d whipped the door open mere moments before he knocked, resulting in startling us both into exclaiming. My hand flew to my chest as my heart tried to beat itself free from my rib cage.
“Shit, sorry. I’m sorry.” Will took two steps back and rebalanced the drink carrier in his hand. “Sorry. I… here.” He tugged one of the coffee cups loose and extended it. I instantly recognized the logo for Snacks-and-Sips.
“Thanks? What’s the occasion?” I sniffed the warm steam and the notes of caramel gave me pause. He’d gotten my favorite drink.
“I’m… fuck, sorry.” His eyes dropped to his feet with a shaky sigh. “I did practice. For like ten fucking years.”
“Will?”
His eyes cautiously lifted to meet mine. “I’m sorry I was such a dick in high school. I messed up, I gave you the wrong idea, and I’m sorry.”
Not the apology I was looking for, but it was a step in the right direction. “Wrong idea? I remember that afternoon, and if that’s the ‘wrong idea’ you’re talking about, I’d rather you not lie—”
“I’m gay.” He blurted the words so fast and loud that I briefly wondered how hard it must have been for him to say it out loud.
“Okay. I’m probably about to sound like the biggest douche in history, but I might have figured that one out when you had your tongue shoved down my throat.” I searched his face with a wariness born of confusion and the long-brewing hurt I’d carried around since that day.
His shoulders sagged a little, and I did indeed feel like the biggest douche. “Yeah. I just… I freaked out, but it’s no excuse, so I’m here to tell you I’m sorry and I’ve felt like shit every day since then, but every time I get up the nerve to apologize, I freak out again, and time kept passing, and you were gone for a while, and now you’re back and I just—”
“Will.” My hand landed on his bicep. “Breathe.”
One little shallow gasp was all he managed before mumbling another apology with downcast eyes. Despite myself, I stroked my thumb over the muscle beneath his t-shirt. What I really wanted to do was hug him until he stopped looking so damn sad.
“What ‘wrong idea’ are you talking about?”
“I gave you the idea that I was… disgusted. Not interested. It wasn’t that at all.” He shrugged his shoulders and I gave his upper arm a reassuring squeeze as I felt the muscles tense and flex with the movement. “I was just scared, and because of that, I handled it all wrong. And continued to handle it wrong. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you here, Will?” Reluctantly, I withdrew my hand once he mustered up the courage to meet me eye to eye again.
“To say I’m sorry and ask if… maybe could we… could we try being… friends again?” His gaze swept over my face, full of raw, real, unabashed vulnerability. The kind of earnestness that was impossible to say no to, even if I was ninety-nine percent positive he’d wanted to say something other than friends. I was glad he’d settled on friends. I didn’t think I was mentally capable of handling anything more than that at eight o’clock in the morning.
“Friends. I’d like that.”
His smile was radiant. Fuck me sideways. Every synapse in my brain fired at once, screaming “abort, abort, abort!” I was kidding myself if I thought this wouldn’t be anything but awkward and stilted. Maybe I wasn’t ready for more than friendship, but if he kept smiling at me like that, minor details like that wouldn’t matter. His dimples alone made me want to climb him like a Goddamn tree right here on the front porch. I’d always been a complete goner for his dimples.
“Again, I’m really sorry, EJ.” He scuffed one foot and pushed his hair back with a swift movement. “Also, to make it up to you, I’m here to help. Heard through the grapevine you were headed out to hit the pavement today. Figured maybe… I could give you a lift? Hang around? You know, as a supporter. Of the campaign. I know a lot of people.”
Watching him stumble nervously over his words was too endearing. Yeah… this was a terrible idea. My mouth didn’t agree with my brain, though.
“That’d be great, Will. It won’t be an issue for your job if you publicly support a candidate?”
He shook his head and immediately had to brush the hair from his eyes again. “Nope. I’m off-duty and not in uniform, so it’s all clear. I checked the handbook online.”
His smile became an influence on mine until I was grinning ear-to-ear like a fool. He’d clearly been stressing this, and planning it, for some time. “Sounds like we’re all set, then. Your truck or my car?”
“Okay, don’t laugh,” he warned with a squint. “My truck. I found a bunch of the songs we put together in a file from way back. I figured we could cruise.”
Crash. That was the sound of the last of my resolve crumbling to dust. If I weren’t careful, William Doherty was going to break my heart for a second time and I’d have only myself to blame for it. Wordlessly, I pulled the door to the cottage closed and nodded toward his truck. Like a damn golden retriever with a new toy, he practically bounced toward the passenger seat and flung it open before I’d even made it halfway toward the driveway.
“Use the side step.” He pointed to the little metal running board. “Nice, right?”
I couldn’t resist placing my hand on his forearm as I stepped up into the truck. Evidently, I had zero sense of self-preservation or self-respect. “It is. It’s also massive.”
He shut the door for me and jogged around the front, his smile a near-constant feature of his face. Only once he was in the driver’s seat and pulling out of the driveway did he continue with his anxious rambling. “I wanted the extra bulk and horsepower so I could get a plow for the winter. Benji, you know Benji… he was so overbooked last winter, he once went a full seventy-two hours without sleep and ended up in a ditch outside the Patterson farm. I figured I could help him out.”
This man wasn’t real. I pinched the inside of my arm to make sure I wasn’t imagining everything.
“Of course, I remember Benji. He’s done well for himself. We cross paths at the tavern once in a while. Now that you mention it… he does all the plowing for my family.” I mentally tallied all the parking lots and driveways and completely understood why the poor guy would be that overworked.
“Yeah, he’s raking in the work but refuses to hire help.” Will glanced toward me with a grin. “He says he’s saving up for a house for him and his mom. Good ole Benj.”
“Are you still up at your dad’s place?” I regretted my choice of conversation topic as soon as I saw the storm clouds pass over his eyes and watched his smile grow tenser and less authentic.
“Yeah.”
All further conversation evaporated as the truck rumbled down the curving country roads. I smothered a sigh and turned to look out over the golden yellow fields ringed by forests. The end of the summer season always felt so tinged with loss. My regret over bringing up a sore subject and killing his smile increased the feeling exponentially.
Without a word, he reached for his phone, fiddling with it one-handed as his eyes darted back and forth between the device and the road. A few moments later, the music started playing and it created the strangest sense of deja vu as all our favorite popular songs from ten years ago started playing. Sean Mendes, Taylor Swift, Maroon 5, and Pitbull all sang during the last of our cruise, throwing me back to a time when we used to do exactly this with the same songs playing on the radio. Only once we crossed over the bridge into the center of town did he lower the volume and slow his speed.
“Where to first, EJ?”
“If you want, you can park behind my uncle’s inn. We can walk from there.” I surreptitiously searched his face out of the corner of my mind, hoping that whatever dark clouds I’d inspired were starting to clear. He caught me looking and flashed a grin and a wink.
“Perfect. It’s a nice day for it.”
It was a nice day for a stroll around town. Because I was the biggest idiot in the world, it was his comment about the weather being nice for a walk that inspired me to finally take stock of his appearance. If I had to guess, he’d put extra care into his outfit. The fitted cornflower blue t-shirt, tan dress slacks, and polished brown loafers were a far cry from his typical off-duty outfits. Not that I’d been keeping tabs on him. Except that I had been.
My tongue once more disregarded everything my brain was saying. “You look really nice today, Will.”
God help me, he blushed. He fucking blushed over my compliment.
“Thanks.” His sheepish murmur was barely audible. With a deep breath, he stole a glance and smiled, dimples dialed up to their full wattage. “I figured if you’d said yes to me tagging along today, I should look professional. Campaigning is serious business.”
“It is. I’m kind of overwhelmed by the whole thing.” I looked down and smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from my beige chinos. I, too, was wearing loafers and had finished off the ensemble with a button-down t-shirt in cream with a microscopic blue flower pattern on it. Will and I had always had similar tastes in high school, from loungewear to formal wear and everything in between. It shouldn’t have surprised me as much as it did that we’d accidentally dressed in exceptionally complementary outfits. The Windhaven rumor mill was going to have a field day with this, but I wasn’t actually bothered by that idea at all.
With our coffees in hand, we hit the sidewalks. I had a whole list of places I wanted to stop today. As much as everyone in town knew my family and me, it was different now. I wasn’t making introductions, but I was definitely keen on improving the connections I already had and strengthening the ones that needed work. If I had any chance of winning this emergency election, I had to get as many votes as possible and I wouldn’t achieve that by resting on the merits of my last name alone. The added bonus was that I was all grown up now. I’d left for college after my senior year and had only returned for summers and holidays. After graduation, I did a ton of work in the capital, about an hour away, and that meant I was only back for holidays and the occasional long weekend. In effect, while I wasn’t making a first impression or that many new introductions, I was hoping I could show people I wasn’t the Thompson’s slightly nerdy, awkward teenage son anymore.
Will stuck by my side for meeting after meeting, adding his affable charm and genuine smile to our conversations, as well as a surprisingly large amount of endorsements and talking points of his own. At no point did he ever steal the spotlight, but I had to admit after the first few meetings, we found our groove. God, had I missed my best friend. Maybe my friends were right—we’d always had a rock-solid connection and innate chemistry. It was stunning how quickly we fell back into the easygoing, effortless camaraderie I hadn’t realized I longed to get back all these years.
Morning bled into the afternoon as we continued strolling in sync down the street. I lifted my gaze to catch his eye, but right before I spoke, his stomach interrupted with a protesting rumble of hunger that had us bursting into laughter. And what a cathartic expression it was. We laughed until tears glistened on our lashes in the afternoon sunshine, clutching our stomachs and laughing harder whenever Will’s would growl again. He’d always been a bottomless pit when we were teens. Given the bulk of his physique and the way his gut was making its hunger known, that hadn’t changed either.
Breathless and smiling like complete dorks, I tugged him away from the door I was about to open and found myself standing before him, our eyes leveled and searching for answers to questions neither of us wanted to give a voice to. Relief flooded my body as he broke the tension of the moment with a safer suggestion than anything I was about to blurt.
“Wanna grab something to eat before we continue? Donny’s has new lunch specials.”
Donny’s was not a surprising choice. Will had always loved the little Italian eatery tucked on a side street not too far from where we were. Each little reminder of the boy still residing within the body of the man in front of me made my heart soar. Even knowing full well how much this was going to hurt in my future, I lept at the opportunity.
“Sounds great. My treat, though.” Without thought, I reached out and flicked a wayward curl from his eyes.
“This time,” he replied with a devilish grin. He seemed delighted by the prospect of a next time. I was right there with him.
“Deal. But I pick the location. It’s only fair.”
“I can work with that. You have good taste in food.”
“You mean you’re not picky and will eat anything?” My grin was untamable.
“Bingo. Come on, before my stomach starts actually talking.”
I turned in the direction of our destination, and my heart, the poor thing, banged in triple-speed as his fingertips landed in the small of my back. Under any other circumstance, the touch would have been a small and insignificant thing. But these circumstances were anything but normal, and I was thrilled over the contact between us like a socially inept teen on his first-ever date. Every little detail was collected, labeled, collated, and tucked away for future dissection. Stolen glances, quippy comments, subtle smiles, and touches just like this one became monumental things, and I ignored all of my logical brain’s warnings in lieu of reveling in the moments. Moments I’d sworn I’d never have again. Moments I adamantly insisted I didn’t want. Moments that were becoming milestones in my clearly dysfunctional heart. Yeah, this was going to hurt, but like Icarus reveling in the joy of flight, I leapt and soared, willfully ignorant of the consequences my actions would most assuredly have on my heart.