6. Tyler
Chapter Six
TYLER
What the fuck have I done? The question rang through my skull as if I’d climbed the highest mountain and shouted into the endless, empty sky. It echoed and rippled all through my consciousness as Sebastian promised it wasn’t a big deal.
We separated and I shifted uncomfortably to face someplace other than toward Sebastian.
His comforting words had stung me because it wasn’t his job to soothe me, but the other way around. Even so, when the silence came, it was infinitely worse than any comfort he had been providing.
Confusion swirled through my mind as I tried to slow down. Why had I done that? Booze-fueled sentimentality? We had been talking about soulmates and something monumental revealed itself in the center of my mind.
“Actually, I’m pretty drunk,” Sebastian said. “I should probably sleep it off.”
It was a relief that he said it first. He was sparing me the embarrassment of making up an excuse to get out of the basement. “Right.” My throat was sore and my voice was hoarse. “Probably should.”
Sebastian forced a smile, then wished me a good night and left the basement.
As the door shut, I slid lower on the sofa, wanting to squeeze myself between the cushions and disappear.
Now that I could truly feel every ounce of embarrassment over that stupid thing I’d done, I indulged.
My face was burning, my fingers trembling, my heart racing.
What the fuck was wrong with me? The guy had just gotten cheated on and my idea of helping him through it was to make a confused and awkward move on him. I was such an idiot.
Memories of a lifetime spent orbiting each other had shifted in my mind as we talked. They had taken on a slightly different shape, glimmered in a brighter light, and some trick of the eye made me think that maybe, maybe…nonsense. I had no idea what I’d been thinking.
That night, I slept in my own bed. Well, I lay there with my eyes closed, at least. If Sebastian was awake when I entered the room, he didn’t stir. I guessed he had passed out, so I changed into my pajamas and turned away from the room, facing the wall under the window.
A perfect storm of emotions carried me through the night. I was hot and uncomfortable under my covers. I was cold from the air seeping through the microscopic cracks in the window. I was angry at my impulsive behavior and scared by what I had done.
But there was one thing I didn’t dare face. One thing I couldn’t even begin questioning. There was a scary lack of regret in me. I couldn’t be sorry for kissing him when that feeling of connection had seemed so bright and brilliant.
Around the break of dawn, I gave up on sleeping.
I slipped out of the bed, tip-toed out of the room, and passed down the hallway by several doors from which I could hear our guys snoring.
Once I was downstairs, I poured myself a big glass of water to kill the rising hangover and searched for snacks in the kitchen cabinets.
I carried my junk food to the big, decorative fireplace and built up an equally decorative fire.
The house was too large to depend on the fireplace for warmth, so it was connected to Northwood’s heating system.
Even so, it was nice to feel the lick of warmth when the dry logs caught fire and crackled merrily.
Aside from the atmospheric lights in the kitchen, the fire was all the difference between light and dark, so I moved a recliner to face the fireplace and sank into its soft, faux leather seat.
It creaked under me as I shifted and struggled to find a comfortable pose.
It wasn’t the quality of the recliner but the feelings that raged through me that made me shifty and uneasy.
I tossed Cheetos into my mouth, aware that it was yet another bad decision coming from my brilliant mind.
I squeezed my eyes shut and allowed a wave of euphoria to pass through me. It was as unexpected as my behavior last night. Yet as it thundered through my chest, a sense of deep longing rose to the surface in its wake.
The truth was, I wanted to talk about this. And the only person I could ever talk to about serious things was off-limits. But I wanted my best friend to listen to my ramblings and help me make sense of them.
“Tyler?” The voice startled me. I glanced over my shoulder and found Asher Sullivan standing at the foot of the stairs. “Are you alright?”
“Fine,” I said, my voice sore. “Why are you up so early?”
“Thirsty,” Asher said apologetically. He gestured at the kitchen island. As he moved toward the sink, he kept looking at me, head cocked. “You?”
“Can’t sleep,” I said.
The new guy nodded. He had arrived here last August, following in his stepbrother’s footsteps, and had a rocky start to his hockey career.
He was good, but he was still searching for his style, shifting between cautious and reckless as unpredictably as if it was a very clever strategy.
Coach Murray had seen him play on a few occasions before bringing him on, which left Jordan stunned upon hearing the news.
The big guy had been worried about a family member joining the team and having to protect his stepbrother, but so far, it looked like Asher was perfectly capable of protecting himself.
In fact, Jordan’s attempts at restraining Asher had backfired miserably.
The two were never on the same page. It was a can of worms I was in no place to open.
Asher drank water, then hesitated, and seemed to finally make a choice near the stairs. Instead of returning to his warm bed and sleeping in, he walked toward the fireplace. “That thing works?”
“I really hope so,” I said and laughed darkly.
He let out a soft chuckle. Silence gathered between us. I thrust the bowl of Cheetos to Asher and he shrugged, then took a handful. “And Sebastian?”
My heart lurched. “What about him?” Fear that somehow he knew what I’d done warred with hope that I might have someone to talk to. I understood less than nothing.
“How’s he coping with all that mess?” Asher asked.
I popped a few Cheetos into my mouth, crunched them between my teeth, and gazed at the fire.
A deep sigh welled in me, but I held it down.
“He’ll get there. Slowly.” And I slowed him down further by making him question the only solid relationship he has in his life.
The thought rose in me unexpectedly and made perfect sense.
Guilt followed it. And notably, not a trace of regret.
I managed to separate the two feelings very neatly.
“I’m not totally sure how to help him through it. ”
Asher pressed his lips tightly, his gaze darting to the fire.
He was a handsome guy. The flames lit his face with soft, warm hues, and his eyes sparkled.
I examined my feelings, using him in a way.
There was no mistaking the fact that Asher was attractive.
He was sullen and broody like Sebastian could be at times.
His skin was clear and smooth, his hair somehow always perfect even at dawn when it was a messy mop on his head, and his physique was that of a true athlete. And yet, I felt nothing.
He breathed in, his bare torso rising. I wondered what it would feel like to touch his rounded pecs but discovered that I didn’t care.
Yet in the same breath, my mind flickered back to Sebastian, and a hole of despair opened in my chest. Sudden fear climbed through my body.
Would I ever get another shot? Imagining that last night had been the only chance felt terrible.
Asher’s slow exhale pulled me back to the present. “I’m really not the best person to offer relationship advice.”
“Struggling?” I asked conversationally. I didn’t want to pry.
He gave a little eye-roll as if to say I couldn’t imagine the scope of it.
It felt about right. I thought the same thing.
My heart tripped as I poked through my consciousness and the memory of the kiss.
“What do you think it was like for Beckett when he fell for Caden?” The words were out of my mouth before I knew what I was asking.
Asher shook his head. “I imagine he just fell for him and didn’t think all too much about the rest.” He was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know if any of that matters at all.”
“Maybe a lifetime of thinking he was straight matters a tiny bit,” I said and laughed dryly.
I had an urge to cover my face. I was straight.
I had been straight my whole life. And yet, my dick had never been harder than when I kissed my best friend.
And my heart had never been fuller than when we talked about being soulmates.
“Right,” Asher agreed. “Maybe just a little. But…he wasn’t straight.” Almost as though it made him sad, he added, “Straight guys don’t fall for other guys.”
I wanted to tell him how wrong he was, but I didn’t know where to begin. “I…don’t know if that’s true,” I said. I couldn’t trust anything I thought I knew.
Asher shrugged. “I knew I was gay when I was eleven. Thinking back, there were clues even when I was six. But I’m not sure it’s the same for everyone.”
“I never even thought about it,” I murmured, then wanted to bite my tongue off. Heat flushed my face, but Asher didn’t wince. He didn’t squirm, he didn’t get excited for gossip, and he didn’t fuss.
He simply nodded. “If you want to talk about anything, I know how to keep a secret. Gay boys usually learn to keep their mouths shut early.”
I glanced at him, hoping that the brief eye contact could convey my gratitude. I looked away because it felt like I was naked, exposed, and completely vulnerable. “I’m sorry that that’s how it is.”
He shrugged. “I was lucky. Mom’s cool. Stepdad’s even cooler. I didn’t have any issues.”
“Jordan?” I asked, curiosity winning the battle. “I can imagine him telling you to be responsible or something like that.”
Asher snorted. “Jordan…” Silence fell again. The fire crackled on and we snacked. Then, with a wide yawn, Asher got up. “I could use a few more hours of sleep.”
“Thanks for sitting with me,” I said.
Asher gave me a little smile. It was enough to make his dimples appear. He hesitated a moment, then walked away.
In the silence, I yawned and decided to give sleep another chance, too.
I returned to our room quietly, laid down, pulled the covers up to my chin, and looked at the ceiling.
The night was already winking out with the early rays of sunshine lighting up the sky, but I figured I could afford a late start tomorrow.
At the far end of the room, Sebastian was completely quiet until his voice danced through the night. “Ty? Are you freaking out?”
I was afraid of something so abruptly that I couldn’t inhale in that instant. I forced a short laugh. “Freaking out? Nah.”
He said nothing. He didn’t believe me, but he didn’t want to push me either.
I could almost swap our places and think about it from his perspective.
It was just that doing that broke my heart.
It was as close to a betrayal as it could get without fully qualifying.
I was supposed to lift him up and carry him through this.
Instead, I had only added oil to the wildfire of his heartbreak.
I had made him worry about our friendship.
“It’s just…” He paused, but I waited. “I don’t want you worrying. We’ve made worse mistakes than that.”
Why did it feel so wrong to hear him call it a mistake? I had had the clearest idea of what I had wanted to do in the heartbeat that preceded it. My doubts flooded me only after I had leaned in.
“Remember when we had that big fight?” he asked in a sleep-softened voice. “I wanted to run away from my home and you told your dad,” Sebastian spoke almost fondly of the fight that had separated us for over a week. He had come as close to hating me as he could. “I was in so much trouble, Ty.”
“Better than being kidnapped and killed.” It was an echo of the thoughts I’d had then. We had been seven or eight. He’d gotten into some fight with his parents and plotted an escape plan. I had never seen him so committed to anything before. It had scared me to see how serious he was.
“You probably saved my life,” he admitted.
I snorted a little as if I hadn’t done anything nearly as important. But Sebastian had always been stubborn. He would have gotten scared shitless on the way, but he wouldn’t have backed down. And I would have had to follow him. Or stay behind forever.
It was my fear of losing him that had made me speak up. I had always wanted him near me.
Was that why I didn’t feel the loss of his relationship as strongly?
Was I somehow glad that he didn’t have anyone else?
I couldn’t believe that. Not truly. The reality was a little more complicated.
I wanted him to be happy as much as I wanted to be the person making him happy.
And I never believed Jennifer could do the job half as well as I could.
No. It wasn’t a mistake that I had leaned in and pressed my lips against his. It was just very poorly planned. It was selfish in its timing, but it was far from the first time I felt that pull.
To think of it, Sebastian’s magnetism had been drawing me in since we were kids. I had always wanted to be the first person he shared things with. I wanted to celebrate with him and to mourn with him. And I wanted to be wherever he was.
My heart was about to burst out of my chest as all the pieces slowly fell into their right place.
I closed my eyes. Sebastian didn’t speak anymore. His breathing slowly changed and I figured he dozed off again. Sleep was tugging me down to its comforting depths, too, and I surrendered to it.
As I drifted away, words echoed through my mind. Not yet. Not now. But soon.
One thing was certain in all the mess that surrounded us. I wasn’t going to give him up.