Chapter 10
Nick
Something was wrong.
Henry had been looking forward to dinner since he first suggested it. We talked about it for half the drive. He’d studied their menu, checked out their wine list, and prepared a list of suggestions. He should’ve been giddy. Instead, he was just there.
He was polite, attentive and sweet, but he lacked his usual zest. The spark that made him, him was gone. He was gone. I wanted him back.
I wished he’d never taken that work call. It ruined everything. His mood, our date, and my plans.
The entire run I’d thought of how to get him to shower with me. I sucked at seduction, but I’d come up with a strategy. I’d ask. Even if he wasn’t interested, he wouldn’t have been a dick.
Then he’d gotten that fucking text before I could even try my idea. Or maybe…. I’d taken off my shirt and he’d seen what he’d agreed to sleep with. Were they connected?
“Are you okay?” Henry asked. “Is there something wrong with your food?”
Did I tell him the truth? Lie? Deflect? I must’ve looked like a deer in the headlights. He kept his gaze on me and I could feel his concern growing. I don’t know how I knew it, but I did.
“No, the food’s amazing. You were right about this place.”
“You’re quieter than usual. Did I overdo it with the restaurant?”
Henry was too perceptive to think I was uncomfortable by the setting.
I wasn’t sure he knew what was wrong, but he clearly had something on his mind.
Time to man up and stop being passive. “I’m fine, the restaurant is fine, but you’re off.
Ever since you spoke to someone at work, you’ve changed.
It’s like you’re not into me all of the sudden.
Do you want me to call an Uber and go home? ”
“What?” He flinched like I’d slapped him. “No. Of course I don’t want you to leave.”
The conviction in his words relieved me, but it wasn’t an answer. “Then what happened? Why are you like this?”
To his credit, Henry didn’t blurt out everything was fine. He stayed quiet for a few more seconds, then set down his fork. “I haven’t been honest with you.”
Six words were all it took to take me from calming down, to ready to puke. I pulled my napkin from my lap and pushed back my chair. “I’ll go get my things from the room and call for a ride.”
“Nick, please hear me out. If you still want to go, I’ll make sure you get home safely.”
I only had a few absolute rules for dating. Trust was at the top of the list. My brain said tell him to fuck off, but my heart wanted to give him a chance to explain. Emotions won the fight. “Go on.”
“I don’t want to have secrets, but there are things about me and my family I can’t tell you. They don’t change how I feel about you. I’m telling you this because when I’m allowed to share everything with you, I don’t want you to think I’ve been lying to you.”
Did he really think his admission made it better? Lying to me or hiding things both destroyed trust. So why did I still want him so much. “I don’t… I have no idea how to respond. If there are things you can’t tell me, why should I trust you?”
“I can’t give you a good reason, other than when I finally tell you, you’ll understand.”
It was the least convincing explanation for lying to me I’d ever heard. “That’s not enough, Henry. Why can’t you tell me?”
“The simplest answer is we haven’t been together long enough. If I told everyone I went on a date with, it wouldn’t be a secret.”
It was logical, but it still made me angry. He couldn’t trust me? Like I was the one keeping secrets. “Then why even date me?”
I understood how chicken and the egg that question was, but it was valid.
“Nick, I’m sorry I hurt you. It’s not…. Why date you? Because I really like you. You’re the first person I’ve told I’m hiding something, because you’re the first person I’m sure I’ll tell everything. This is the best I can do, and I’m hoping it’s enough for you to give us a chance.”
I appreciated Henry’s admission, but he couldn’t smooth over the lack of trust by saying he’ll probably tell me one day. My next move was easy; get up and go home alone. Except I believed him.
I couldn’t explain it, but on some weird, intangible level, I knew he’d been honest. I trusted Henry like no one before. It scared me how quickly that’d happened. “Okay.”
Something flickered across Henry’s face. “Okay, you’ll give us a chance?”
Henry held my gaze and I saw the anxious need in his eyes. The huge risk he’d taken weighed on him. If I were honest with myself, I’d have admitted I didn’t have enough experience to know if he’d been sincere or if he was playing me. I didn’t always catch on fast,
This felt different. We had a connection I’d never felt before and I didn’t want to wake up in the future with regrets. I could always leave if I found out I was wrong.
I mentally snorted at how easily I convinced myself I could quit Henry on a dime. Leaving would be hard, but I was going into this with eyes wide open.
“Yes, Henry. I respect you for telling me what you could, even if I’m a bit uneasy. I can’t promise we’ll work out, but I want to give us a shot.”
The spark was back. Henry was back. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start. This is what had weighed on him. Hopefully he wasn’t playing me.
Walking back to the B&B, I was more than a little buzzed.
After we cleared the air and tried to backtrack to when we were good, I might have relied on the wine to calm me.
It didn’t work. Anyone who tells you alcohol is calming is lying.
Helps me forget, loosens my inhibition, sure. Gets me to chill? Not even close.
I’m not a happy, carefree, life of the party drunk. I brood until I blurt. Keeping my sexuality from my family meant I needed to stay in control so I didn’t slip up. I never drank when I was around them. Until I did.
By senior year in college, I’d spent more weekends and holidays with Trevor’s family than mine. I dreaded going home, but Mom asked me to come that year. She probably just wanted a friendly face and someone to help, but I couldn’t say no to her.
To ‘help’ survive the day, I brought wine, and then drank too much.
After my brother made yet another comment about how the faggots were ruining the world, I fired back before I could think.
Those next few words cost me my family. Mom almost defended me, but Dad told her shut up, and she cowered from her abusive husband.
I knew her inability to stand up for anyone, even herself, was a symptom of the abuse, but I kept waiting for something. She didn’t say another word.
I grabbed a few personal things from my room, called an Uber and never went back.
Sober, I never felt sorry for myself. My logical side reminded me they were a shitty family, and I really was better off without them. Drunk, the loss of them dragged me down. My emotional side remembered the few good times and all the nice things Mom did for me when no one could find out.
I pretended to include her in my, ‘I have no use for my family’ facade, but I still loved her. If I ever had the chance, I wanted to save her from her living hell. It was a pipe dream and knowing I’d probably never be able to save her only made it worse.
The initial burst of alcohol induced happy me, quickly devolved into the quiet, somber version.
Sitting with Henry I couldn’t stop the logic versus emotions war that raged inside me.
My heart believed him, but my brain argued I was just desperate for someone to love me.
Neither side was winning, so my hormones decided for me.
I wanted Henry to fuck the doubts out of me. There was no downside to great sex. Even if we didn’t work out, the sex will still have been good.
It was bullshit, of course—if he left after we had sex, the self-doubt would be far worse than if I had simply stayed home and jerked off—but I put that out of my mind. Either way, sex was going to happen when we got back to our room.
My heartbeat increased as I intertwined my fingers with his. His touch sent scorching heat through me, making every nerve ending ignite with pleasure. He was like a narcotic that numbed the ache in my soul and left me craving for more. My body hummed with desire and my blood ran hot at the contact.
We arrived at the B&B, and I stumbled up the three steps. Henry caught me and I laughed, but he looked. . . unamused. My cheeks heated up and the wave of embarrassment washed over me. I freed my hand and almost fell over again.
“Sorry,” I said, trying to make light of the situation. “I didn’t think I drank that much.”
He shook his head and opened the door without a word.
We entered our room and I shut the door behind us. A few awkward moments of silence passed before I gathered the courage to lean in to kiss him. Henry gently pushed me away.
“You’re drunk. We should wait,” he said, placing his hands on my shoulders, steadying me.
I stepped back, trying to blink away the sting of being rejected so easily. Why did we need to wait just because I’d had a buzz? Henry was there when I told him I wanted to get naked and do more than just fall asleep with him.
Had that whole, ‘I have a secret I can’t tell you,’ been his version of the, ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech? That thought made my insides churn and roll.
Henry watched me carefully, his eyes focused on something other than me. The silence was thick in the room as the tension between us grew.
Finally, Henry cleared his throat and spoke softly, “It’s not that I don’t want you Nick, because believe me, I do.
..” He ran a hand through his hair and looked away from me for a moment before continuing, “I care about you too much to rush something like this when you’re intoxicated. It’s important that we take our time.”
The sincerity in his voice washed around me, repelled by the walls I slammed up to protect my heart. I’d been dumped before and heard many versions of this speech.
“Right… sorry,” I sat on the bed, trying to shake away some of the alcohol induced fog.
Henry walked over to the small table at the corner of the room. He poured two glasses of water and handed one to me and sat next to me.
I took a long gulp of water, feeling the cool liquid soothe my parched throat. Henry watched me with wariness etched on his face.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
I wanted to nod, but I couldn’t move, my throat was tight with emotion. Henry’s arm stretched out to hold me, but I quickly drew away, not wanting him to feel pity for me. “I’m fine. Just had too much to drink.”
He let out a sigh and put his hand over mine. “Let’s get ready for bed. We can talk in the morning.”
My heart ached as the words sunk in. Get ready for bed? Talk in the morning? I’d definitely just been dumped. You’d think after having it happen so often it’d stop hurting so much.
If Trevor were here, he’d tell me to brush it off. It’d just been one date. Better to find out now than after I got invested.
The problem was, I’d gotten invested already. My brain was right, I was desperate to be loved.
Keeping my back straight, I crossed to the small bathroom. No way I’d let him see me defeated.