Chapter Five #2
“No problem. Love you too.” She inhaled. “So, are you gonna come home? Need a ride from the airport?”
“No, I need to say sorry to Finn. And I’m gonna make things right with Miles. I kinda did this morning, but really mean it. It is his bachelor party—” Lena made a wrenching noise. “—and I want him to have a good time. He may be a dick, but he’s still my brother, and I love him.”
“See? That’s why you’re the better brother.”
◆◆◆
“There he is!” Miles was already drunk. He hadn’t been that happy to see me since the trip started. Fuck that, since well before then.
I squared my shoulders and remembered what my face looked like the time I told a patient’s mother I wasn’t trying to poison her daughter, just prescribing a saline drip.
“Hey, guys.” I took a seat between Connor and Tyler.
They weren’t in our usual lounge chairs, having opted instead for a table and umbrella. Jason and Finn were nowhere to be found.
“Where the fuck did you guys go?” Miles asked me. “Finn said you took off when it was your turn, went too far, and got lost.”
Good. Finn provided a decent cover. I covered further. “I hit it like I do my bike and just went. There’s an island out there I wanted to see. Miscalculated how long it took to get there and back.”
“Aren’t doctors supposed to be good at calculations?” Connor’s tone edged toward snotty.
I’d met Connor a few times, mostly when I’d visit Miles in college, but we never hung out. I knew Tyler better, since they’d been buddies back in high school, but nowhere near as well as I knew Finn. Especially after jet skiing. Jesus, what was wrong with me?
“Not… really?” I said with a chuckle. “Why?”
“Just saying, don’t want my doctor miscalculating anything. Could fuck people up.”
Miles said, “What calculations are you talking about? Don’t they just hook you up to a firehose of penicillin for all your antibiotic-resistant STDs?”
It was a cheap shot, but I took it for what it was, Miles defending me. It didn’t amount to shit in the grand scheme of things, but it was better than him piling on.
Connor took it in stride. “Ryder, can you tell your brother that it’s amoxicillin ‘cause I’m classy like that.”
“Obviously,” I said. The table laughed. “Where’re the others?”
“Jason is reading or…” Tyler craned his neck, “napping over there. And Finn went to go buy stuff.”
I shot my brother a look. He shrugged. “I don’t know. Souvenirs or some shit, I think he said. Who for? Don’t know.”
“Maybe he’s got a secret side piece, and that’s why he’s being such a little bitch about wing-manning us.” Connor wagged his eyebrows.
“He’d have to have a girlfriend for him to have a side piece,” Tyler said.
Connor threw his hands up. “Okay! A secret girlfriend. I didn’t want to sound like an eighth grader.”
Miles laughed. “I doubt it. He has little cousins, though. Or maybe his parents?”
Why were we still talking about this? I knew he wasn’t buying shit for anyone.
He was having a classic closet-case meltdown after letting another man touch his dick.
“Why did I say yes?” “Did I like it?” “Does this mean I’m gay?
” “Do I need to shave my pits and wax my legs and wear eyeshadow?” I went through the same shit, just in high school.
I guess he could be shopping. I mean, Finn could be living life as a totally out gay man, or bi, or whatever he is, and just didn’t want to say anything to this particular group of aggressively heterosexual bros.
The next time I saw him, he could corner me and say that it took me long enough to pick up on the ample hints he’s given.
But that wasn’t true, and I knew it. Finn was melting down out there all alone, and it was all my fault. Fucking Christ, I couldn’t believe I gave another man an existential crisis. What a giant piece of shit I was.
The conversation moved on, and Finn showed up a little while later. Not a shopping bag in sight. No one questioned him on it, and the afternoon slipped into evening.
I wanted to talk to Finn, but we were never alone, and every time we made eye contact, he glanced away, red-faced. When someone suggested we get burritos before getting ready for the club, I offered to pick them up. I looked at Finn, hoping he’d offer to come with. I went alone.
◆◆◆
My only chance to say something to him was when we went to shower and change for the club. Once we were alone in our room, I said, “Hey, man, about earlier?”
Finn looked at me wide-eyed, open-mouthed, and red-faced, but said nothing.
I continued, “I’m really sorry. I don’t know what came over me. If you feel uncomfortable and want to switch rooms, I totally get that. Or I can just leave? That flight at midnight still has seats.”
“No!” His face burned hotter, but with a painful smile. “Uh… No, dude. You’re good.” He gave the fakest laugh I’d ever heard, and his eyes landed everywhere but on me. “No need to, uh, leave, or uh, switch rooms. No worries at all. I’m all good.”
“Yeah? ‘Cause you’re fully freaking out right now.”
“Nope. I’m fine. It’s all good. Please don’t leave. Or switch rooms. Or feel weird, or whatever. You did nothing wrong. All good. Promise.” Finn spoke without looking at me as he gathered his clothes for the evening.
“Are you sure? You don’t look or sound all good.”
“Yup! All good!” he said before closing the bathroom door and locking himself inside.
I sat on my bed until he was done. He just said I’d done nothing wrong, but acted like he had an aneurysm?
What the fuck was that? At least he wasn’t violent.
I wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to hit me.
I’d take it too. Then grab him by his shirt and hold him steady while telling him to calm down as the rage in his eyes melted to lust before our mouths crashed together, biting, licking, pulling, grappling, our way down to the floor—
He came out dressed and ready, with shoes on and everything, looking like a wholesome wet dream.
Pants just tight enough to show a bit of a bulge.
A short-sleeved, loosely woven, collared shirt that clung to his biceps and draped off his pecs.
Clean-shaven face, and his hair done in an effortless wave that must take him ten minutes to construct.
He had worn something similar to Miles’s engagement party, and it garnered the same slack-jawed stare.
Then, with a brisk, “See you down there,” and brisker smile, he walked out of the room.
“Well, fuck.”