Chapter 21 The Caveman Approach to Relationship Counseling
The Caveman Approach to Relationship Counseling
ETHAN
"What, Gavin! Put me down!" I sputter, blood rushing to my head.
"Nope. We're fixing this now." He starts walking down the hallway, seemingly unbothered by my weight.
"This is kidnapping!" my fists bounce weakly off his back in protest. "I'm serious, put me down!"
"It's called an intervention not a kidnapping," he counters cheerfully. "And you can stop hitting me any time. It's like being attacked by a kitten."
I'm acutely aware of the stares we're getting as Gavin carries me through the building and out onto the quad, where even more students turn to watch the spectacle. Someone even takes out their phone to record.
"I hate you," I mutter, giving up on struggling.
"No, you don't," Gavin replies, adjusting his grip. "I'm lovable as hell. Ask anyone. Well, except Coach Wilson, when I miss a weight session."
Embarrassment heats my face as I snort out a laugh. "You're insane."
"Probably," he agrees easily. "But I'm not the one avoiding a great guy because I'm scared."
That shuts me up. We continue across campus, me dangling over Gavin's shoulder like a conquest, until we reach the DPO house. Gavin doesn't put me down, not even to open the front door. He simply shoulders it open and marches into the living room.
Several frat brothers look up in surprise. Drew raises an eyebrow from the couch. "Bringing home strays, Gavin?"
"Found something that belongs to Tyler," Gavin replies, scanning the room. "Where is he?"
"Study room," Drew says, giving me a sympathetic look. "Everything okay, Ethan?"
Before I can answer, Gavin is already moving again, carrying me down the hallway to the small room the fraternity uses as a study space. He kicks the door open without ceremony.
Tyler is sitting at the desk, textbooks spread out in front of him, headphones on. He looks up, startled, and his eyes widen comically at the sight before him.
Gavin unceremoniously deposits me on my feet in front of the desk. I stumble slightly, my head spinning from being upside down for so long.
"He's yours now. Fix it," Gavin announces, then turns and walks out, closing the door behind him.
Tyler pulls off his headphones, staring at me in bewilderment. "What just happened?"
Smoothing down my rumpled shirt, my face burning with embarrassment. "Your friend Gavin is a caveman. He literally carried me across campus against my will."
"I can see that," Tyler says, standing slowly. "But why?"
The simple question hangs in the air between us.
Now that I'm here, face to face with him, all the excuses I've been making seem flimsy and transparent.
Tyler looks tired, his hair all messed up like he's been running his hands through it, and dark circles under his eyes.
Has he been sleeping as poorly as I have?
"I ran into Cher," When I can squeak it out my voice is smaller than I'd like. "She had some interesting things to say about us. About you."
Tyler's expression darkens. "What did she say to you?"
"That I'm your experimental phase. That you'll eventually go back to dating women. That your mom called her last week." The words come out in a rush. "That I don't fit into your real life."
Tyler's jaw tightens. "She had no right to say any of that."
"But was she wrong?" The question that's been haunting me finally escapes. "Is that what this is, Tyler? An experiment?"
He stares at me, hurt flashing across his face. "Is that what you think? After everything?"
"I don't know what to think." The pressure behind my eyes builds again. "You were straight your whole life until a few months ago. Your mom clearly wants you with Cher or someone like her. And I just..." I take a shaky breath. "I can't be someone's college experiment again. I can't."
Tyler steps around the desk, closing the distance between us. "Ethan, look at me."
It takes effort to force myself to meet his eyes.
"This isn't an experiment for me," he says firmly. "Yes, coming out as bisexual was a surprise for my mom. But I've known for a long time that I find men attractive too. My feelings for you are real. More real than anything I felt with Cher or anyone else."
"Your mom—"
"My mom will come around, or she won't. That's her journey, not mine.
" He reaches for my hand but doesn't quite touch me, waiting for permission.
"I'm sorry about what happened at dinner.
And I'm even more sorry that Cher ambushed you.
But please don't push me away because you're afraid of what might happen. "
"I'm not just afraid. I'm terrified. Because this matters to me. You matter to me more than I expected. And if this ends badly..." The words come out quietly, barely above a whisper.
"Who says it has to end at all?"
The simple question catches me off guard. Tyler takes advantage of my silence to gently take my hand.
"I've been going crazy not seeing you," he continues. "Not talking to you. I thought I did something wrong."
Guilt twists in my stomach. "It wasn't you. It was me being a coward."
"Not a coward," Tyler corrects softly as he slowly moves closer to me. "Just scared. I get it. This is all new territory for both of us."
Looking down at our joined hands, I'm unsure when he had taken mine. "Ryan's been destroying my things," I blurt out, not sure why I'm telling him this now. "Textbooks, scrubs, changing my clinical assignments."
Tyler's hand tightens around mine. "What? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I didn't want you confronting him and making it worse. Because I'm handling it. Because..." I trail off, not wanting to admit the real reason.
"Because what?"
"Because I was already pulling away," I confess, looking at the floor with shame burning across my cheeks. "And I didn't want to give you another reason to think I'm too much trouble."
Tyler's free hand comes up to cup my cheek, turning my face toward his. "Ethan Barrett, listen to me carefully. You are not too much trouble. Not even close."
The tenderness in his voice nearly undoes me. I want to believe him, lean into his touch, and forget all my fears and doubts. But Cher's words echo in my head, joined by memories of Ryan saying similar things toward the end of our relationship.
You're clingy. Needy. Too much work.
"I don't know if I can do this," I whisper, the admission painful. "I want to, but I'm scared."
Tyler's expression falls, his hand dropping from my face. "Are you breaking up with me?"
The hurt in his voice makes my chest constrict. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid by pulling away gradually: this moment of having to look him in the eyes and make a decision.
"I don't know," I say honestly. "I don't want to, but..."
"But you're afraid I'll hurt you, so you're hurting both of us first." Tyler steps back, running a hand through his already messy hair. "That's not fair, Ethan. Not to me and not to yourself."
He's right, and I know it. But knowing something intellectually and being able to overcome the emotional barriers are two different things.
"I need time," pausing, I finally say. "To think. To figure out if I can get past this."
Tyler looks at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Okay," he says quietly. "Time. I can give you that." He takes another step back. "But I need to know, do you want this to be over? Because if you do, just say it. Don't drag it out."
The direct question hits me like a physical blow. Do I want this to be over?
The answer should be simple.
But as I stand there, caught between fear and longing, I find I can't say the words either way.