19. Logan
Logan
‘Nesting, my mom called it.’
Chase’s words replay over and over in my head. There’s no way he knows he’s waking desires in me that went dormant a long time ago.
But as nice as playing house with Chase sounds, I already know I’d end up wanting everything that goes along with the game, including things he can’t give me. Things that, until very recently, I’d given up hope of ever finding.
Chase grins, and my heart does this weird tripping thing.
“Okay, now open the other one,” he says, sitting on the edge of his seat like a kid.
I can tell it’s a frame of some sort, and I’m curious to see what Chase thinks I’d like enough to hang on my wall.
When I tear the paper away from the glass, my breath catches in my throat.
It’s an abstract art piece. Swirls of grays, blues, and black litter the canvas.
A yellow-orange glow along the bottom edge softens the chaos in a way that makes it almost peaceful.
It looks a lot like a snowstorm raging in the headlights of my chopper.
It’s as though the chaos is inevitable and calls you to submit.
It’s an oil painting, and the raised paint has me reaching my hand forward to trace the ridges. I half expect the canvas to be cold to the touch.
“This is the most stunning thing I’ve ever seen.”
I can’t take my eyes off it to look at Chase, but I hear the relief in his voice.
“Really?” When I remain quiet, too stunned to speak, Chase continues. “I know it’s a little morbid, but it reminded me of the night we met.”
“Jesus, Chase. I don’t know what to say.”
“I’m glad you like it. Thanks for letting me crash with you,” he says, knocking his shoulder into mine, finally snapping me out of my daze.
“Yeah, man. Of course. Feel free to move the rest of your stuff in whenever,” I stutter.
“I figure I have a little bit of time. Baby’s not due for eight months. But it would be nice to sleep in a bed where my feet don’t hang over the edge.”
“I told you to take my bed!” I yell.
“I know. And I told you no. Now, let’s finish dinner so we can watch our movie.”
I do as he commands, feeling like shit that Chase not only had the thought to get me a gift, but found that gift… and I couldn’t even be bothered to get him a gift card.
I’ll make it up to him, I think to myself. I’ll cuddle him so hard during this movie he’ll feel like he’s being swaddled. All my discomfort, unease, and misplaced lust can take a hike, because Chase Matthews is getting all the cuddles he deserves this Christmas.
As soon as I’m done with my pizza, I put my feet back up on the ottoman like last time, and pat my lap.
“Come here,” I tell Chase.
He gets comfortable with one arm between my back and the couch, his head in my lap, and his other hand resting on my thigh. It’s the same way we’ve done it before, but it doesn’t feel like enough to show him my gratitude.
Knowing I’m about to torture myself, I tap his shoulder.
“Let me change positions really quick.”
Kicking the ottoman away, I stretch out on my side along the couch. Wrapping an arm around his waist, I pull Chase’s back to my chest, forcing him to match my position.
“I feel like Christmas calls for something special, so I’m going to be the big spoon, but I apologize in advance if a certain appendage gets the wrong idea,” I warn.
If Chase wants to snuggle, then dammit, I’ll be the best snuggler he’s ever had, but I’m also going to address the elephant in the room.
“No worries,” he says easily, just like always. “I know how dicks work. They try their hardest to sabotage you.”
I laugh because he’s not wrong.
Settling into a comfortable position is a challenge with both of us on our sides. At one point, Chase has to throw his foot on the floor as my arm tightens around his stomach to prevent him from rolling off the couch, which is too narrow for both of our bodies.
“I have an idea,” I say, moving out from behind Chase.
He sits up and lets me get into position on my back, slightly propped up by the pillow against the arm of the couch.
“Okay, now lie down,” I tell him.
“Dude, I’ll crush you,” he says, but he’s already climbing on top of me.
Chase is kind of on his side, kind of on his stomach, wedged into the back of the couch, with his head on my chest, an arm draped across my stomach, and a leg nestled between mine.
“Okay?” Chase asks as I do my best to cover us with his Christmas blanket.
“Okay,” I confirm in a strained whisper.
In this position, I can smell Chase’s shampoo and feel the rise and fall of his chest. I’m happy because I’m able to provide something that he’s clearly been missing, but I’m also being tortured by having a man in my arms who doesn’t want more than this.
I’m barely paying attention to the movie, lost in my thoughts, when Chase’s fucking phone rings again.
I swear to God, if that’s Kendra…
“Hanny!” Chase tries to yell in excitement, but his voice sounds like he just woke up. It’s full of gravel and is slightly deeper than usual.
Chase holds the phone out in front of him, and I watch as Hanlon’s face comes into view. Chase’s face and my torso fill the small screen in the corner, and Hanlon’s eyes grow wide.
“Ohmygod, you big baby! You still want Christmas cuddles?” Hanlon laughs into the phone, but there’s an edge to his voice that wasn’t there the last time I heard him through the speaker.
“One is never too old for Christmas cuddles. And you know damn well if you were here, I’d make you give them to me yourself.”
I deflate just a little, realizing I’m simply filling a gap. I mean, I know it’s not me Chase wants. Not beyond a friend, at least, but hearing yet another man say he’d pick Hanlon Winchester over me stings.
Hanlon’s a nice guy. But I’m starting to hate him a little more.
A sad smile crosses Hanlon’s face. “You’re right. I miss them. I miss you. I wish I were there for Christmas cuddles.”
In the background, Stone shouts, “I can hear you, ya know.”
Hanlon laughs and yells over his shoulder. “Possessive fucker. Mind your business,” before turning back to face Chase. “So, who’s taking my place?”
Chase angles the camera toward my face.
“Oh, uh, hey Logan,” Hanlon says. “Chase, are you and he…” he trails off, not knowing how to finish that sentence.
Chase laughs.
“Relax, Han. It’s a long story, but we’re making living together a permanent thing,” he says, not really explaining anything.
“Liiiiike…” Hanlon tries again.
“Like roommates,” I finish, twisting Chase’s hand so my face enters the frame again. “Chase’s other roommate has a surprise baby on the way and needed the space and asked if Chase could find somewhere else to go,” I explain.
In the background, I hear the unmistakable sound of Stone’s voice as he asks, “What about Logan?”
It’s amazing how deceitful our brains can be. Wishful thinking has me hearing concern in Stone’s voice that obviously isn’t there. Nonetheless, hearing my name come from his mouth, even if I can’t see it, is another arrow piercing the tattered pieces of my heart.
Hanlon answers Stone. “He and Chase are roommates now,” before returning his attention to Chase once again. “Anyway, how’d you get him to agree to cuddles?”
“Well, Hanny,” Chase starts with a grin. “Like you, he’s gay. So, it didn’t take much convincing.”
I snort, grateful for the levity of the moment.
“Geez, Chase. Just make us all sound like horndogs, why don’t you?” I tease, poking him between his ribs.
Chase turns his face up at me with a wince.
“No, that’s not what I mea—”
Chase is interrupted by Stone before he can finish his sentence.
It’s been four years since I’ve seen his face.
The man who couldn’t be bothered to give me a chance despite my being willing to do whatever it took to make him happy, and suddenly, here he is on the tiny screen in Chase’s hand.
My whole body goes tense in anticipation of the wave of pain I know is coming.
I want to tear my eyes away, but I can’t.
“You sure you aren’t gay, Matthews?” Stone says, resting his chin on Hanlon’s shoulder as his arms snake around Hanlon’s waist. “I’ve never known a straight man to love cuddling as much as you do.”
“Are you shaming me, Addario? Because if I remember correctly, you still don’t think you’re gay even though you’re engaged to a man,” Chase fires back.
“Okay, guys,” Hanlon says, turning to place a hand on Stone’s chest. “Can we go back to you two getting along?”
The simple act guts me.
I mean, of course, Hanlon touches Stone. Probably all the time. But usually, I don’t have to bear witness to it. I don’t have to see someone else’s hand feel the heartbeat I never got to touch.
A strangled noise escapes my lips, and Chase tilts his head to look up at me.
So does everyone else in the frame.
“Hey, Logan,” Stone says, finally acknowledging me, making my ears ring.
Whatever this is I feel for him is worse than love.
It’s painful obsession. It’s loss. It’s all-consuming and inescapable.
It’s the land of what-ifs and could-have-beens.
It’s the chance I never got, and somehow, seeing him now makes it feel like the distance and time apart have only amplified the toxicity of my feelings.
Seeing his face has my guts twisting, my heart stopping, and my lungs constricting.
“Hi.” It comes out as a whispered exhale because that’s all I have.
I feel Chase’s weight shift against my stomach, but my eyes stay glued to the screen and the man still on it.
“Hey, guys?” Chase says, addressing Hanlon and Stone, pulling the phone to himself, removing Stone from my line of sight. “I’ve gotta run. But Hanny, I love you, and Merry Christmas to you both.”
He ends the call without waiting for their reply and pushes up on his supporting hand to study my face.
“Talk to me,” he says instead of asking if I’m okay.
Clearly, I’m not.
I sit in silence for a second, willing my pizza to stay down before answering.
“That was the first time I’ve seen him since I left. And it didn’t hurt any less than it did four years ago,” I admit.
“Oh, man. Come here.” Chase sits up and pulls me to him. I go easily, too fucked up to fight him. “We’ve gotta work on getting you to let him go.”
Chase is cradling me against his chest, my cheek plastered to his shirt.
There are worse places to have a meltdown.
“I would if I knew how,” I mumble against him. “The crazy part is that I don’t even know what I’m holding on to. Stone and I were never a thing,” I say, even though I know we’ve already had this conversation.
“But you were there for each other in ways that mattered. Bonds were created and intimate moments happened even if romance wasn’t involved,” Chase says, validating my feelings for Stone in a way even I have failed to do.
“You guys were a team, and I can imagine…oh God, if you ever tell Stone I said this, I’ll punch you in the dick.
” He takes a deep breath like he has to brace himself for what he’s about to say.
“I can imagine that watching Stone do what he does was kind of”—Chase makes a retching noise that makes me laugh—“hot.”
I close my eyes and immediately see Stone in his safety harness and bright red patrol gear, in the back of my chopper, headset on, reading my hand signals before tossing a live explosive from the aircraft.
I can still feel the power of the detonation rock the mountain below us.
Can still hear his laughter as he triggers another avalanche.
Can still sense his awe and wonder at the beautiful destruction we caused every morning.
“Yeah…yeah, it really was,” I admit.
“So, maybe instead of running from your feelings, you should face them head-on.”
“Maybe,” I whisper.
Nothing else is said as our movie continues playing in the background.
What started out as a favor for Chase, and a way to help him unwind after a stressful day, has quickly become a moment for my benefit.
I squeeze him tighter than necessary, but he doesn’t complain as I dig my fingers into his back, holding him to me.
Instead, Chase returns the squeeze, a silent reminder that I’m not alone.
As we lie back down, his breath is hot against my stomach even through my shirt, and about halfway through the movie, his grip on me loosens, and his breathing evens out.
I’m afraid to admit that I enjoy holding onto him like this.
Am I simply trading one hopeless cause for another?
Suddenly needing space, I pat Chase’s shoulder to wake him gently.
“Hey, we should probably head to bed,” I tell him.
He mumbles as he comes to, but once his eyes open and he processes his surroundings, he says sleepily, “Okay. If you need anything, just…I’m right next door.”
I pat his knee as I climb out from under him and off the couch.
“Yeah. Thanks. And thank you for the gifts. Merry Christmas, Chase.”
“Merry Christmas, Logan.”