Chapter 22 #2
“Don’t do it,” Marc cautioned, sidestepping away from me.
“What’s the matter, Weathers? Afraid of a little water?”
He smirked. “Why don’t you come over here and find out.”
Taking the bait, I jumped out of the water to tackle him, just in time to get smacked by a wave. In hindsight, trying to best someone in the water who literally grew up spending their summers on the coast was maybe not my brightest moment.
Once we were thoroughly water-logged and ravenous, we dried off a bit and retreated to our blanket.
Andy and Marc set off to acquire sustenance, leaving me and Mitch to watch over our things.
I rested my arms on my crossed legs and stared out at the water while Mitch leaned back on his elbows next to me.
So far today was going pretty damn well, and this place was fucking beautiful.
I understood now why Marc insisted on waking up early so we could drive down here. Absolutely worth the hour-long drive.
“I appreciate that it’s a sensitive subject for you, but please let me say this,” Mitch said against the backdrop of waves crashing and the caws of seagulls.
I turned my head slightly to look at him and was unsurprised to find his steady hazel gaze waiting for me. “How did I know he would talk to you about that?”
“Because you’re a lot more like your brother than you care to admit.
” He let that hang for a moment and instead of responding or refuting the claim, I returned my focus to the endless expanse of blue before us.
“I suspect Andy hasn’t shared much about what we went through at Ulwich, not just the school itself,” I winced at that, “but between each other. We made… we made some pretty bad decisions. Though I’m sure my therapist would say ‘bad’ is being unkind to myself and to Andy. We’re working on it.”
I glanced at him again. From Andy’s behavior yesterday, I’d suspected he might have gotten professional counseling, but having the confirmation that both of them were in therapy was a revelation.
“Andy might not appreciate me sharing this,” he paused and took a deep breath, “but it’s my story, too. We—I made a lot of assumptions. About Andy, about us, about me. Because of that, I almost lost everything. And I don’t just mean a second chance at a life with your brother. I mean everything.”
I blinked and searched his face as I absorbed what he was really saying. Oh my God, had Mitch been planning to commit suicide? Had he tried? Had he failed?
He looked down as if the weight of the admission was too much to bear. “If Andy hadn’t shown up when he did…” He let out a breath and pushed on. “What matters is that he did, and I got that second chance. And do you know what?”
“What?” I asked tentatively.
“I almost messed it up all over again. Because I was making the same damn mistakes.” He pushed off his elbows to sit up straight. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t want you to make those mistakes too. It’s obvious to anyone who comes near you that you have strong feelings for Marc.”
I closed my eyes and released a heavy sigh.
Mitch nudged me with his elbow. “Hey, I’m not finished yet.
It’s also painfully obvious to anyone bothering to pay attention that he feels the same.
” I scoffed under my breath, or so I thought.
“Nope. That shit right there. Don’t do that.
Just because you can’t or won’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there.
And even if it’s not?” He paused until I looked at him.
“Fuck it, you owe it to yourself. If I’ve learned nothing else from my mistakes and therapy, I’ve learned that.
So, yeah, don’t do what I did. Don’t wait until you’ve basically lost him to tell him how you feel.
I got lucky, but I’ll never forget how close I was to losing him forever.
” He held my gaze as if he wanted to make sure his message sank all the way to my bones, burrowed deep into my soul so it couldn’t be forgotten.
Marc meant everything to me, but was I brave enough to tell him that?
“Hey, lazies! How about giving us a hand!” At my brother’s shout, we turned to see him and Marc juggling cartons of food and sporting huge grins. Knowing Marc, it was just as likely to be one of everything as it was to be two of all his favorite things.
Mitch clapped me on the shoulder, using me as leverage to push himself up from the impromptu blanket, adding a subtle squeeze before releasing me.
“Who are you calling lazy? I’ll have you know it takes a lot of work to look this good.
” He walked over to Andy, where he promptly picked him up by the waist, food containers and all.
“Besides, my boyfriend likes to put me through my paces,” he added, (hopefully) pretend-nibbling on his neck where a garden of colorful inked-flowers flourished.
My brother’s smothered squeal of joy as he wrapped his legs around him wasn’t something I’d ever thought I’d hear from the moody boy who shouted obscenities and slammed doors in my face.
To my surprise, jealousy didn’t blossom in my chest at their display.
Rather, I was happy for my brother. What he’d found was rare, and while I wanted that for myself as well, I wouldn’t begrudge him for finding it.
Remembering that Andy wasn’t the only one carrying things, I looked to see if Marc needed or wanted any assistance.
Unsurprisingly, he seemed to have the food well in hand.
However, to my amazement, what I cautiously interpreted as envy filled his expression.
It would appear I wasn’t the only one who wanted what my brother and his boyfriend had found.