Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Charles
Ididn’t know that Zeke being gone would hurt this much. Sure, I knew I’d miss him and it’d be hard, but I thought I could distract myself with coursework. Yet here I am, three days into our first two full weeks without each other, and a random memory has set me off.
The pain is making my chest physically ache in a way I wasn’t prepared for, and as I sit there on our living room floor, head throbbing through the tears, all I want is to be wrapped up in his arms. For Zeke to be here, to tell me it will be okay.
I need that more than I need air, and it’s the one thing I can’t have.
He’s been away before. He’s traveled a lot in the last year or so, but this is the fucking Olympics, and while he was prepared to jump on a plane straight home after his last event, I couldn’t let him.
There’ll be parties and events and the closing ceremony that he should get to experience.
Zeke worked his fucking ass off to get to where he is, and if that means that I have the worst two weeks of my life, so be it.
Fuck, I wish I’d gone with him.
I could have. He begged me to. But with my coursework at staggering levels and no one around Zeke knowing I exist, I knew that I’d be a distraction he didn’t need, and while I miss him, there’s no way I was going to ruin this moment for him.
I’ll watch his races, I’ll scream myself hoarse, and when he comes home—medal or no medal—I’ll be welcoming him as the winner I know he is.
But until then, I’m going to sit like a pathetic mess and cry this sadness out of me.
At least that’s what I’m planning until there’s a knock at the door.
“Fuck.” I grab my phone and recoil from the sight.
My face is as red as my hair, and my eyes are puffy and swollen. There’s no hiding that I’m not okay, so instead of answering the door, I curl my knees to my chest and wait it out.
Which would work for most people.
More pounding. “Charles, open up.”
But not Robbie Harrows. “Double fuck.”
I groan and stand, resigned to open the door and get through their teasing and then hopefully send them on their way again.
I don’t even bother with a hi. “Zeke’s not here.”
Even though it’s been months since I last saw Robbie and Brandon, they look the same as ever—only Brandon’s blond hair has clearly been cut recently.
“Duh.” Robbie snorts and eyeballs my face. “We’re here to see you.”
“Me?”
Brandon sidesteps me, letting himself into the house. “Robbie figured with Zeke away, now was the best time to hit you up for a threesome.”
“He what?”
Robbie laughs and pats my shoulder. “He’s kidding. It’s Zeke I want for the threesome.”
Oh my goodness. My head is already too full for more chaos, but I close the door behind them anyway. I learned long ago that you can give Robbie all the signs in the world that you want him to leave—including asking him to leave—and he won’t do it.
So I might as well settle in.
“No, really,” I say, heading into the kitchen to get them something to drink. “Why are you here?”
“Like we said, to see you.” Brandon takes the seat at the kitchen island while Robbie paces around our place, inspecting things that he’s already inspected the countless other times he’s been here.
“Me?”
“We were visiting Robbie’s family in Arizona and thought you could use the company.”
“I’m fine.” The word is a reflex I can’t stop. “That’s nice of you, but I’m totally fine. Zeke will be home before I know it.”
Robbie pulls up short of the frame he was going to grab and looks pointedly at my face.
“He will be. It’ll fly. The thing is though, our prez is in the fucking Olympics, and you guys have an enormous TV.
We’re totally here for pretend support, just so we can watch him kick ass in seriously high definition. ”
“Shh!” I tap the kitchen cabinetry. “Don’t jinx him.”
“Fuck. Sorry.” Robbie knocks on his head.
“His first race isn’t until tomorrow.”
“We know. We’re taking you out tonight.”
“Out?”
Robbie nods slowly, smiling in a way that has me worried. “We’re going to have so much fun.”
We have so much fun. Too much fun. It’s 5:00 a.m. before we stumble back into the apartment, and I’m so glad Zeke’s swim isn’t aired until much, much later because fucking hell, I need to sleep. Line my stomach with grease and painkillers first, then sleep.
My phone goes off as we jump into the elevator, and I switch Zeke’s call straight to speaker.
“Hey, babe.”
“Hey, babe,” Robbie and Brandon echo.
“Who is that?” The sound of his voice makes me want to cry again.
“Who do you think, prez?”
“Robbie and Brandon are there?” Zeke sounds completely bewildered, which makes me think I might be wrong about him having sent them to check up on me.
“You didn’t know?” I ask.
“No. Last I heard, they were in Arizona.”
“Surprise!” Robbie does jazz hands Zeke can’t see. “We’re stealing your boyfriend.”
“Eh. I know you value your balls too much to do that.”
We reach my floor, and the two drunk idiots drunk-idiot-stumble toward my apartment, while I drunk-idiot-trail behind them.
“You really didn’t know?” I ask.
He drops his voice to match mine. “Nope. I’m so glad they’re there though.”
I eye Robbie and Brandon wrestling as they wait for me and realize— “Yeah, me too. They’re going to stay and watch you compete with me.”
“Fuck.” Zeke’s voice wavers. “I’m so nervous, Charlie. Came back to my room early to get some sleep because I thought I might be sick if I focused on it too much.”
“You know the medal doesn’t matter, right? Like, yeah, you want it. And you deserve it. But you’re a fucking Olympian. You’re one of the best in the world. No matter how tomorrow goes, I’m so, so, fucking proud of you.” My eyes prick with tears because I miss him as much as I’m proud of him.
“Thank you,” he whispers. “Fuck, I wish you were here.”
And for the first time since he left, I really regret that I’m not. It’s not even about missing him or cheering him on. I just want to have experienced all this with him, but as his unofficial partner, it wasn’t on the cards for me.
I hate it. But he’s worth dealing with the shitty for.
I force a smile onto my face. “I guess you’ll just have to make it to the next ones so I can be.”
“No pressure or anything.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Sounds like you had a good night?”
I chuckle because fucking hell, I did. “Robdog and Brando are all right.”
“Say what you want about them. They have the biggest hearts of anyone I know.”
“I think you might be right about that.”
Zeke sighs. “I’ve gotta go. Fuck, I miss you.”
I swallow down how those three words make me want to sob. “Please. It’s only been a few days.”
“A few days without making you blush feels like an eternity.”
He does what he wants. I blush. He gets it too easily out of me. “Mission accomplished.”
“Wish I could see it.”
“When you’re home, you can make me blush as much as you want. Just focus on your swims. That’s all I want you to do.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“Love you too. So fucking much.”
We hang up, and I need to take a second before unlocking the door just to get my emotions back under control.
Sure, I’d had a lot of valid reasons to not go with him. To not force my presence to cross from our personal life into his professional one.
But if he wins his first-ever Olympic medal and I’m not there? It’s the kind of choice I’ll regret for the rest of my life.
That hunch is confirmed when the next day, my talented, clever, dedicated, amazing boyfriend turns around and not only wins a medal, but he wins fucking gold.