Chapter seventeen
I hadn't consciously thought a lot about Arlie's looks, his strength, his masculinity. I was always aware, I guess, on some level, and I liked it when he hugged me or paid attention to me, but I hadn't really let myself notice him, just like straight up notice wow, he's amazing.
Or maybe I had, and I'd just kept telling myself otherwise. I couldn't keep doing that, though. I had to move forward from second-guessing myself constantly.
Anyway, I was noticing him now. His sweet smile.
The shape of his face. The size of his biceps.
The strength and masculinity of him. The way he didn't need to posture to be strong.
He could be silly and goofy and respectful of others and not feel weak.
It was like because he knew who he was, he could let other people be themselves without judgment, too.
I loved all those things about him, and I guess I could see why the precinct loved him so much, even the guys who didn't care for me.
People felt safe with him, and they liked him.
I liked him, too. He was my buddy, my partner, my friend.
And maybe I was getting a crush on him. Sometimes I just enjoyed the feeling—almost reveling in letting myself actually feel it instead of trying to stuff it down.
And sometimes I felt an intense embarrassment that I was so cringe as to get a crush on my partner.
Talk about a stereotype: late blooming bi guy gets a crush on his best friend. Surely that was cringeworthy. But I didn't really feel shame about the fact that he was a guy, and that had to be progress.
Some part of me must've thought he'd be interested in me.
Maybe he'd suggest dating—it wouldn't be experimenting if he suggested it, surely—but he didn't make any moves or bring up the subject, or seem to see me any differently than before my big confession.
In fact, I felt kind of stupid for being so worried about telling him.
He didn't treat me any differently, as if my words had barely made a ripple in his awareness. He was supremely unbothered.
Maybe he didn't take me seriously, thought I was just kidding myself and was still basically straight.
It didn't feel like that, though. It felt like his accepting personality and chill, kind nature were the same as they'd always been.
He wasn't going to change his mind about me, or hate me, or look down on me.
I'd thought I trusted my partner fully, but I'd clearly had some reservations. Or maybe it was just that I'd been so twisted up about my new discovery that I didn't trust myself, which made it hard to even think of trusting anyone else.
It felt easier to accept myself when he was so chill about it.
I didn't spend as much time obsessively going back and forth in my head about it, wondering what would finally prove or disprove it.
I could just sort of let it sit now and make a casual plan to date at some point and have fun figuring it out.
Fun? Did I think it would be fun to date guys? When all I'd been able to think about before was that it would feel humiliating if I was wrong? I guess maybe I was changing. Because it did sound fun.
Did I need to move to my own place before I could start dating, though?
This wasn't exactly somewhere I'd feel comfortable bringing my date, if I did end up wanting to experiment physically.
We'd have to go somewhere else. Maybe that would be okay at first, but if I got serious about anybody, I'd want to have somewhere to live that wasn't a rented room amongst a pack that was always, always going to know what I was getting up to.
Not to mention right next door to my partner.
I might be getting more confident, but I wasn't that confident—and probably never would be.
I decided I couldn't wait until I had my whole life figured out before taking the first step. So finally, I asked Arlie which apps I'd get the best experience on.
He looked at me for five stunned seconds before blinking. "You think you're ready, then?" he asked, sounding like he wasn't sure if he wanted to hear the answer or not.
"I think so. I guess if I'm not, I'll find out."
He frowned. He clearly didn't like that. "You really think you're ready to invite some guy home?"
"Relax, I won't be bringing anyone back to my room with the pack."
"So you'll go somewhere else? Or are you taking things slower, like me?"
I shrugged, too large, too awkward. "God, I don't know. I'll figure it out, you know?"
"Cole, I've seen how you are when you're dating. You let people push you around. Is that really how you want to start your bi journey? It could be a really bad experience."
I put my hands on my hips. He was so nice looking, and so irritating, with that worried expression on his face. "I'm not a total pushover, Arlie. You know I'm not."
He pursed his lips. "You were with Darby. You think you'll be different with a guy? A confident guy who tries to manipulate you or pushes for more than you're ready for? Come on, Cole. You need to be careful here."
"Careful enough to wait for years? Is that what you suggest? I can figure this out, but not if I never put myself out there."
"Yes. Of course. Of course you can." He ducked his head, rubbing his forehead like he was getting a headache. He took a deep, slightly shaky breath. "Maybe I'm jealous. You know what you want and you're going after it. I'm still just learning to dog paddle. And not fast enough."
Mason breaking up with him had clearly left a bit of a mark on his confidence. "You'll get there," I told him. "Hell, we both will. I'll be careful, okay? I promise."
"You'll call me if you need me? You won't be too embarrassed, right? And on a date, even if things are awkward and you feel like you're being mean, you can always say no, at any point."
He really did think I was a pushover. I stared at him. "You think I always just go along with stuff? Even having sex when I don't want to?"
"I don't—" He took another shaky breath. "I guess I do, yes."
"WHAT?! What the hell ever gave you that idea?"
"You did, okay?" He was frowning at me, but it would be more convincing if he didn't look like he was about ready to cry.
"I just don't want to see you hurt. But every time I've seen you with Darby, every story you've ever told about your sex life—you don't pick.
You just don't say no. You've never said no to anybody, have you? "
"Sure I have," I said automatically.
He gave me a look. "Have you?"
"Of course," I said, sounding really irritated.
I'd said no thank you, I'd dodged come-ons, and I'd played oblivious when I wasn't interested.
It was true that most of my sex life had consisted of just not saying no, but it wasn't all I could do.
"God. I'm not some baby you have to watch out for! You need to trust my judgment."
"I trust your judgment about every single thing in the world before I trust your judgment about your dating life."
My eyes felt hot, too hot. "I don't need you looking down on me. If you thought so little of me because of Darby, why did you stay with me?"
"I don't think little of you. I think so much of you.
And I think you're worth more than a rushed experiment with a guy who won't respect you.
You deserve care and time and proper attention.
" His face was getting red with embarrassment.
He probably wished he wasn't saying all of this out loud—I also wished that—but he wasn't stopping himself.
He was just putting it out there for us both to deal with, possibly not very well.
"And who's going to give that to me? You?" I may have scoffed.
"It could be me, if you were interested," he said, glaring at me.
"Since when?" I demanded. Now my face was flaming, too. "You've never expressed any interest in me. You think I wouldn't have noticed? I don't need your—your pity date or whatever the hell you're suggesting."
For a moment, a long moment, he just stared at me. And then he blinked.
"Oh," he said.
It was such a small sound, like a realization, maybe a big one. "Oh," he said again. "Okay. Okay. Yeah, I guess I can see it. You didn't notice with Ellie. Why would you, with me?"
"What?" My face was definitely on fire, or could start one. "What are you saying? You're interested? You never said—" He was warm towards me, though. Supportive, affectionate, making time together a big priority. Sure, but we were friends.
Partners. Pals. Buddies.
I took a careful breath and asked very calmly, "Are you saying you're attracted to me?"
He threw his hands up. "You say that like it's a weird thing.
You're hot, Cole. You're not just hot—you're nice.
Handsome and sweet. It's a double blow." He looked me in the eye, being brave about it.
"I like you very much. And I find you very attractive.
I think it would be easy for me to like-like you.
Maybe a little too much, if it was just an experiment. But anyway. Yes. I'm attracted to you."
My face felt hot. I didn't know what to do with my hands. I felt extremely flattered, and extremely stupid at the same time. I cleared my throat. "Wish I'd noticed. I'm finding you pretty hot lately, too."
There didn't seem to be anything to say for a moment, with that much naked truth flung out in between us. We stared at each other. Part of me thought we should fall into each other's arms, but it clearly wasn't that simple and uncomplicated.
"If we do anything together, it could go wrong," I said reluctantly. "You could hate me. It could harm our partnership and friendship."
"I don't think I could hate you," said Arlie. "You're my guy. My Cole."
"Yeah," I agreed. I was pretty sure I couldn't hate him, either. "But what if we try it and it doesn't work out?"
He shrugged. "Then I'm just your protective partner and I'll want to vet your future dates and make sure they're good enough for you. And you'll probably be pissed at me about it. But we'll deal."
"We'll deal," I said, slowly, realizing it was true. We didn't fight a lot, or even disagree a lot, but when we did, we could navigate it.
Would it be a higher octane, higher pressure disagreement if we fell out over dating, sex, all of that?
Sure, but not insurmountable, with our history, our practice communicating, our personalities that matched so well.
I got along with Arlie; I trusted him. We worked well together.
We understood one another most of the time, although clearly, not always.
I probably wouldn't ever let him vet my dates, but I'd be willing to take his opinion into consideration.
As if anyone could ever live up to him.
"Did you always like me?" I said, as it occurred to me to wonder.
"I always found you attractive. It felt a little confusing sometimes, but I worked hard to keep that line appropriate." He shrugged, awkward. "I don't expect you to believe me, but it's true. You can find someone hot, sexy, and appealing without making it into a whole thing."
I supposed it was true. I'd been feeling that way about him, hadn't I? And I'd kept it in line. It was just always there, in the background, the pushed-down feeling that actually, he was kind of my ideal guy, if that possibility was ever on the menu.
I put my hands over my mouth and laughed. Oh god. I was going to get to kiss Arlie, wasn't I? I'd never thought about it past that—never let myself—but that wouldn't be all of it, would it?
I wouldn't have to fight so hard not to fall asleep on his shoulder. I wouldn't have to fight back my weird confused feelings about not wanting to share him with a date. I wouldn't have to—to hide.
He looked at me with wide eyes. "We don't have to do anything if you don't want to," he reassured me.
I shook my head and opened my arms to him. "Get over here."
He'd always given really good hugs. It turned out his kisses were amazing, too.