Chapter 26
Chapter twenty-six
Tom
My head is a warzone.
Thoughts slam against the inside of my skull like a tornado, circling, crashing, colliding into chaos. Nothing makes sense.
What’s real? What’s lies?
I can’t tell anymore. I don’t know how to tell anymore.
Fuck.
Why did I slam the door so hard behind me?
Why didn’t I calm down and let him explain?
I already know why. Because I got fucking angry and I let that Terrence cockroach crawl under my skin.
I couldn’t see straight in that room where all those doubts were choking me. I needed the truth, so I confronted him, but then things escalated fast.
No, Tom. You escalated. Because betrayal feels like the worst of its kind.
But him betraying me doesn’t make sense.
Yosh has always been there.
The one person who listened when no one else knew I was screaming inside.
He lets me break in front of him, over and over, and he never once turned away when things got ugly. He heard things I couldn’t even admit to myself. He stayed and didn’t mind my broken parts.
Hell, he even started to collect and glue them like it was his new favorite thing to do.
Maybe because he could see past the mess I am.
So why would he betray me?
I wanted— no, I needed to hear it wasn’t true. That this fucker Terrence was trying to sabotage things again.
But Yosh had said nothing, and in that silence, I saw confirmation.
Only now can I think more clearly, and I remember: Yosh always shuts down during confrontation. He freezes and then takes off. I’ve seen it before. I should’ve remembered that.
I should’ve known.
The guilt is driving me insane. I need to get the fuck away from the terrace, from Arcadia, from everything that feels like fucking Alcatraz.
I storm down the stairs, two steps at a time. My chest burns, so do the tiles under my feet. I don’t stop until I hit powder-white sand.
The beach is deserted, the sky filled with clouds, and the moon is hanging bright above, playing hide-and-seek behind them.
The sand feels damp and cool beneath my feet. I don’t even remember taking my shoes off.
The last rolls of the waves curl around my ankles, soft and cold, and I let them.
With each wave, I sink deeper into the sand and let the water do whatever it wants with me.
I pull a pack of cigarettes from my pocket and flick one out with my thumb. It hangs from my mouth, barely held between my lips. I pat my hoodie, then my pants.
No lighter.
“Fucking wanker,” I mumble to myself.
I’m about to throw the cigarette into the sand when someone speaks beside me.
“Light?”
Erin’s with her back against the wall of the beach bar. She’s probably been watching me longer than I’d like.
She passes me her lighter. I hesitate, then take it.
Shielding the flame with one hand, I feel the cigarette catch and glow. The first drag loosens something tight in my chest.
Smoking has never really been my thing, but in moments like these it gives me something to focus on. The smoke hits the back of my throat and warms its way down.
After a few desperate pulls, I hand the lighter back.
“Aren’t you head of the addiction department up there?” I gesture toward Arcadia at the top of the cliff.
“My clinic is for people with a problem,” she says calmly. “Cigarettes aren’t my problem, they’re my solution.”
“If you say so,” I mumble, exhaling smoke.
Erin lights a second cigarette off the embers of the first.
“Heard you had a run-in with Terrence.”
I tap ash off the end of my cigarette. A quick grin. Of course she knows, nothing stays quiet around here.
“Yeah. He’s great company,” I say dryly.
“Ignore him. He’s a dick.”
“That’s exactly what I plan to do. I’m packing up. I’m done here.”
She exhales a plume of smoke, eyes fixed on the dark ocean. “Why do you want to leave?”
“Why do you think? Because you’re all two-faced.”
That catches her attention. “What makes you say that?”
I light another cigarette.
“Terrence says there’s some shark fight over a management position, and you handed me off to Yosh to boost his odds. Turns out I’m just another number in this fake-ass resort. A golden one.”
Erin lets out the most cynically amused laugh I’ve ever heard.
“Tom, you’re smarter than this. Terrence is playing you, and you’re falling for it, eyes wide open.”
“Maybe,” I say. “But it doesn’t mean he’s wrong.”
Erin’s gaze sharpens. “Who says he’s right?”
I open my mouth, searching for how best to bring this up.
She shakes her head. “Let me guess. You confronted Yosh, he shut down, and you took that as confirmation?”
I shrug, fucking irritated because she’s feeding me the answer I already know.
“What else was I supposed to think?”
She stares at me for a second, then drops her cigarette.
“Alright, Tom. You want the truth? Yeah, I passed you on to Yosh, but not for the reason Terrence wants you to believe. Yosh didn’t even want to take you at first, because he prefers to earn his position in a fair way.
But I convinced him, because I knew he could provide adequately for your needs. He’s good at this, Tom. Damn good.”
I don’t respond, and she goes on,
“If you want to be angry, fine, but don’t blame Yosh. He had nothing to do with this.”
I take another deep drag, exhaling slowly, regret seeping through my chest in return.
From the moment I’d slammed that door, I already knew I’d messed up. Hearing Erin confirm it only makes it worse.
She must see it on my face, because she goes for the kill.
“And if you really believed he was using you, then you haven’t been paying attention, Tom”
Frustration pulses in my temples. My nails dig into the heel of my palm.
She’s right. Yosh is probably the most genuine person I’ve ever met. In my world, people smile while they stab you. They offer you the world, then steal it back twice as fast, with a lot of other things you didn’t sign up for.
But Yosh never asked for anything. He also never pretended to be someone different around me.
He lets me be angry, fucked up, scared, in pain, and somehow, he’d stayed and opened the door for me to pass beyond that.
He held my hand when I was afraid to… actually live.
Have fun. Laugh. Feel some kind of peace.
He’s the most beautiful person in the world, but Erin is a totally different story.
There’s always a lesson she wants me to learn without getting straight to the point. She’s too calculated and way too much in control. It fucking pisses me off.
The word manipulative floats through my head.
She’s good at what she does, but being good doesn’t mean being right. And it sure as hell doesn’t mean I trust her.
I stub out the cigarette against the wall and look out at the waves.
Dark water. Waves rolling in and pulling away. Over and over.
It hits me. I don’t like Erin.
And the more I listen to her, the more sure I am.
“I don’t know what game you’re all playing, but I’m done.”
A new cigarette finds its way to her lips.
“Maybe you should figure out what you actually want.”
She sounds like a detached robot, but still with a blade knifing you on repeat.
“Do you even know what that is, Tom?”
This starts to get under my skin. She doesn’t know me, and she sure as hell doesn’t get to talk like that. Calling my name after almost every fucking stupid sentence. The audacity. She thinks she’s fucking Jay, or what?
“I’ll figure it out for myself,” I say, turning away from her.
Yeah, I’ve got my issues, I’m a walking mess. Fine. But it’s mine to fix.
And that starts with going back to the one person here who actually deserves an apology.
The pebble path crunches beneath my checkered Vans as I approach the door of his studio for the second time tonight.
I hesitate for a second, my fist hovering above the door handle.
A gentle knock will do the trick. The last thing I want is to wake him up.
There's a soft glow coming from his practice, so maybe he's up reading crystal stuff to distract himself.
“Yosh? You still awake?”
As I take in my surroundings, I catch the night guard and the girl from the pool bar staring.
He leans in, hand cupped near her ear. She nods without looking away, all while watching me knock on Yosh’s door half an hour before midnight.
Maybe it’s because of the scene I caused with Terrence at dinner, or the way I slammed this same door 30 minutes ago. Or maybe it's simply because I’m Tom McKenna, knocking at the door of West Cove’s hottest guy at a questionable hour.
Fuck me, it’s probably all of that considering they're still gossiping.
The door stays closed.
Politeness can go to hell. If Yosh is mad, fine. I’ll take it. I deserve it. But I need to look him in the eye and tell him how sorry I am.
I knock harder this time, my hand resting on the handle. That’s when I notice the door isn’t locked.
Strange. Yosh always locks the door, day or night.
I step inside, expecting to find him at his desk or maybe curled up in bed with a book. But the room feels empty in a way that makes my skin crawl.
Then my eyes adjust, and I find him sitting on the floor against the wall, knees against his chest.
His head’s down, and he's gripping his face desperately.
“Fuck, Yosh.”
I cross the room in three quick steps and drop to my knees.
My heart, that fucker that had gone quiet for 15 minutes, is now thundering like it’s trying to make up for all the missed beats.
I reach out and brush a strand of hair from his face. There are dried streaks of tears under his eyes, glinting like salt crystals under the lamplight.
I scrunch up my face. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
My fingertips go over the curve of his jaw, brushing away what’s left of his tears.
He quivers under my touch, lashes fluttering as he keeps blinking.
Eventually, he manages to look up, and his hollow, red-rimmed eyes meet mine.
“Yosh…”
His eyes roll back and it’s like he’s losing consciousness. I grab his wrist, tugging him against me.
“Yosh, fuck. Stay with me.”
Yosh is floating between consciousness and someplace far beyond my reach.
He’s delirious and the only thing keeping him with me is the pressure of my fingers wrapped around his wrist. What the hell is happening?
“Stay with me, love. You can do it.” I gently slap the side of his cheeks with the back of my hand, hoping it will bring him back.
I’m about to run out to look for help when his eyes snap open, wide and manic.
“There you are.” My presence makes him jerk backwards against the wall.
I fucking break inside.
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe.”
He swallows hard, exhaling deeply as the cramped tension gradually leaves his body. His eyes soften, coming back.
“I’m sorry,” he rasps, clearing his throat. A dry cough follows behind his fist. “I’m sorry you have to see me like this. It’s unprofessional.”
“Yosh, please…” my voice dies, the distance between us greater than ever. I'm fully aware I caused that by losing my temper.
“Hey.” I cup his face in my hand. “Don’t do that.”
His lashes dip. I run my thumb over his cheekbone, feeling him rest into my palm.
He lets out a breath that seems to shudder from somewhere deep inside.
I want to hold him until whatever darkness he has inside fades, even if I don’t deserve that privilege at the moment.
“It’s… it’s been a tough day. That’s all.”
“It must’ve been rough at the hospital. Are you alright?”
He nods, then shakes his head, placing his thumb and index finger between his brows. A single droplet of water falls onto the crease of his elbow.
“I couldn’t save her. She was only twenty. I….”
“You did everything, Yosh. Don’t do that to yourself.”
He composes himself and moves my hand away.
“I know,” he says quietly. “And I also know I’ll see things differently after a good night's sleep. But right now, it’s just..
. a lot. And this conflict between us isn’t helping either.
I know how it looked earlier, and I didn’t have it in me to fight you on it.
You were right. Erin assigned me to you because she thought it would help me get the position. I never wanted that. I just…”
“Shh, it doesn’t matter. I know it wasn’t your intention. I’m sorry I yelled at you, said those horrible things. I didn’t mean any of it.”
I take him into my arms, and bury my nose in his damp hair that smells like Jasmine, pressing one soft kiss there.
“Think you could forgive me?” My voice sounds like it’s been dragged through mud.
He looks up at me, a little delicate sparkle appearing in his exhausted eyes.
“How could I not?”
Those are the sweetest, softest, words someone has ever whispered to me. The smile on my face doesn’t need words to explain how I feel.
This is it. This feels right. He makes me feel so right.
My free hand slides into his hair, moving to the back of his neck.
Yosh stays, and I think he’s even moving closer.
His breath teases my nose, a bit shaky. A short, careful gasp as I tip his face to look at me. And when he does, I catch those warm brown eyes pearling in front of me with so much vulnerability.
His gaze dips down, lashes low, fixed on my mouth.
He swallows hard, lashes flicking up again.
I see longing in his eyes, a cautious want.
It makes me want to protect him and make sure this feels good.
Our lips meet. He receives me warm and eager. I move past his parted lips, letting my tongue explore his mouth. My hand slips under his linen shirt, caressing the soft bare skin of his toned waist.
He finds my curls, no rush in the way his fingers twirl through them.
I get so lost in it I forget how to move.
Luckily he moves around me, adoring me with soft pulses of his tongue against mine.
I let a hungry grunt pass when he tries to haul me back to life. I cup his face with both hands now, kissing him in his rhythm.
It deepens naturally, learning what we like together.
One last tug of my teeth before letting go.
“Feels good, love?”
He gives me a small sweet hum, settling back against my shoulder. I hold him there, where it’s warm and he can get some rest. This feels better than I ever even knew.
Life is fucking insane.
When I first walked in here, I was closed off like a clam. Dragged in by my family, forced to take a break I didn’t believe in.
Now, less than two weeks later, everything’s changed in ways I never saw coming.
I’ve changed.
Holding him against my crazy beating heart feels like a new kind of reality.
I don’t know how, but I’m ready for that. I want it, even if it comes with the silences that haunt him.
Because finding him like that, it wasn’t just this awful day. It wasn’t just me being a fucking wanker.
There’s more, so much more. And he lives with it every day, I see that now.
It’s not something I can fix, but that’s not the point. I’m not even stable enough to save myself half the time. But if he’ll let me, I can stay and make sure he’s not alone when the dark days come.