Chapter 3
chapter three
I’d been plagued by the same nightmare every single night for…
I wasn’t even sure how long anymore. They’d started back up sometime after Grandma died, which meant it’d been a few years at least. At first, they didn’t really bother me.
I could still sleep through the night, and I’d assumed they’d stop once I’d processed the shock and grief of losing her like I had.
They didn’t stop.
So, then, I thought I’d get used to them or something. I’d be able to ignore them and go about my days like nothing was wrong.
I didn’t. I couldn’t.
They got more and more lifelike, and I started waking up in cold, suffocating sweat multiple times a night; some nights, I wouldn’t sleep at all.
Falling asleep was difficult. Staying asleep was even harder.
And then came the need for control, like I’d never experienced before.
I’d always been a little bit of a control freak, but not to this extent.
I started to obsess over it. It also kept me awake at night.
It kept me from doing things outside of work.
It’d started to take over my life in a way it never had before.
There were three things I noticed when I finally opened my eyes: I’d slept through the entire night, I hadn’t had any nightmares, and I could smell something really fucking good coming from the kitchen. Forrest must’ve been making breakfast or something.
I threw the blankets off myself and peered over the edge of the bed, noticing not only that the floor was hardwood but also that my pants and boxers weren’t there anymore.
I peered around the room, squinting from how bright the sun already was.
There was a small stool in the corner with my useless shirt, pants, and boxers all neatly folded on it. Huh. How kind.
Once I’d put my pants on, I made my way down the hallway.
The further I went, the easier I could hear the sound of music blaring and Forrest belting the lyrics right along with it.
I followed his voice, cutting through the living room to stand right outside the open kitchen, where Forrest was having the absolute time of his life, wearing only his briefs.
His back was turned to me, his hips moving and his head bobbing to “Uprising” as he sang the chorus—a fellow Muse fan, it seemed.
I was content to silently watch him, tracing the black ink that spread along his back and the designs that curled around the back of his arms. He was fucking covered in tattoos, all of them twitching and dancing with each twitch of his muscles. Fuck, he was so hot.
Right as the song started to end, he turned around, immediately jumping back. “Holy fuck! Oh, Jesus Christ.” His back hit the counter as he put a hand over his heart. “You scared the fuck out of me. I didn’t know you were awake.”
I was laughing. I couldn’t help it. “I noticed. What’re you doing?”
He looked me up and down, a smirk forming on his lips. “Right now? Thinking about taking you right back to bed.”
“Mm, sorry, but you’ve definitely worn me out.” I was sore and achy all over in the best possible way. He’d somehow made it unscathed, whereas I was sure I had at least some scratches or bruises. I hoped I had bruises.
“Well, in that case, I made us some breakfast. If you want to take a seat at the table, I’ll bring your plate.”
There was a small round table off to the side. I sat in the matching wooden chair, immediately thinking of Callum and all the stuff he’d made from the same-looking wood. “What’d you make?”
“Classic. Eggs and sausage links. I have some bread in the toaster if you want some, too. I don’t know what you like, so I went the safe route.” He sat a plate in front of me.
“Oh, this looks delicious. How’d you know I like my eggs runny?” I took the fork he’d handed me and gently poked the yolk.
“Just a hunch. How are you feeling?”
“Perfect, thank you. That was fun last night. I can’t really say I expected to wake up and see you dancing while you cooked breakfast. Do you like cooking?”
He’d walked over to the toaster, coming back with two slices of toast. He set one down on my plate before sitting in front of me with his. “I guess so. It isn’t my favorite thing in the world to do, but I love food. I wouldn’t say I’m very good at it, though.”
I swallowed a forkful, pleasantly surprised at how good he’d somehow made something so simple.
I wasn’t sure if he’d just used different spices than I was used to, or if it was because I wasn’t the one who’d made it.
“Not good at it? This is amazing.” I cut into one of the sausage links and swirled it in the yolk.
“You know, my best friend says the same thing. He doesn’t think he’s very good at it and really doesn’t have much passion for it. I think otherwise.”
“Yeah? Everything I’ve learned, I’ve learned from mi mamá, but I can never do it like she does. Does your friend cook a lot?”
“Not as much anymore. He used to cook in a restaurant here, but now he’s one of the managers, which means he isn’t cooking daily anymore.”
“No shit.” He raised an eyebrow, leaning back a little. “Which place?”
“Fire and Ice. He worked with the owner and his husband way before they opened up.”
Forrest’s jaw dropped as he paused, halfway lifting the toast. “Holy shit. That’s, like, famous. Your friend works there? He cooked with Price Iverson?”
Oh, Callum would definitely get a kick out of this. So would Price, from what I’d learned about him. I tried to hold back my laughter as I nodded. “Sure did. He’s a lot happier as a manager, that’s for sure. His boyfriend was a cook there, too.”
“So you know famous people.” He was barely looking as he put his scrambled eggs on top of the toast. “That’s really cool. Does he make a lot of money?”
“Um, he’s comfortable, at least. He’s never been the type to flaunt his money or anything, so I’m not sure about a lot, per se.”
“That’s awesome. Mamá always wanted me to do something with cooking. That’s more her thing, though. She owns a food truck downtown.”
I cut into the last bit of the egg, looking up at him. He was probably the most beautiful—and youngest—man I’d ever slept with. Even this early in the morning, he looked gorgeous, despite his messed-up hair. “What does she make there?”
“Authentic Mexican food. She’s from Puebla, so most of her menu is stuff she grew up on from there.
She absolutely loves it, and I love stealing food from her when I stop by.
” He smiled wide, showing off his gorgeous teeth.
“I’d say she’s got the best Mexican food on the block, but she came to America before I was born, so she’s really my only reference with it. ”
I laughed, shaking my head. “I’m somehow surrounded by people who can cook. I promise I could burn anything you put in front of me. I’m not sure how this happened.”
He raised an eyebrow, winking at me. “Maybe I could teach you a few things next time.”
Next time. He was hoping for a next time.
I cleared my throat, standing with my plate.
I was never sure about the best way to let someone down gently, and it usually ended up that I didn’t.
“Yeah, about that.” I shook my head and put the plate in the sink.
“I don’t really do next times. If you get what I mean. ”
“Oh.” His tone shifted entirely. “Yeah, no, I get that. Just a one-night stand type thing.”
Turning to face him, I tried my hand at a sympathetic expression. No matter how hot he was, or how easily I’d slept, or how good he’d made me feel… I didn’t need to start something I couldn’t handle.
No matter how desperately I needed control, I couldn’t control another person.
A relationship, even friends with benefits, involved far too many uncertainties.
Forrest hadn’t seen that side of me yet, and I didn’t want him to.
“Thanks for understanding. I need to get to my friend’s house anyway.
I told him I’d meet with him today. You don’t happen to have a shirt I could borrow, do you? ”
He nodded slowly, awkwardly shuffling away from the table. “For sure. I’ll go grab something, and I’ll stop by Driftwood for it later, if that’s alright.”
“That sounds good. I’ll be working tonight if you want to swing by.”
“Okay. Yeah, okay, I’ll do that. Let me…” He trailed off, pointing a thumb behind him.
This was the worst part. The awkwardness. The stilted goodbye to a connection that didn’t exist outside of the few hours we’d spent together. I couldn’t control his emotions. Not that I even wanted to, but they were unpredictable.
I hated unpredictable. Like water and currents in the ocean that could go from mild to strong in three seconds flat. If I couldn’t predict it—if I couldn’t prepare—I’d be swept away. I’d sink. I’d drown again and again and again.
The nightmare followed me wherever I went, showing up at the worst possible times.
And the worst part? It was hardly a nightmare.
It was a memory playing on a loop because it had tried to kill me before, and I could’ve sworn it kept trying to again.
I might’ve been safe while asleep in Forrest’s bed, but I’d never be safe when my eyes were open, when my mind could take over.
I’d never be safe.
Tobi opened the door, moving back to let me in. “Hey, Jack. It’s been a minute.”
“It sure has. You look good, though. Seems our talk put some sense into you?” He was smiling, and he didn’t look as weary. He’d shaved his beard, too. He looked sober. I was proud of him, honestly.
I’d accidentally given him quite the tough love conversation the last time we’d seen each other.
He and Callum had been going back and forth while Tobi drank himself away.
After trying to help Callum through it all and offering Tobi a place to stay in the bar, I’d lost it a little.
I wasn’t as patient as my best friend, so I told Tobi he needed to go find Callum instead of letting Callum keep finding him.
I could’ve said it nicer, in hindsight, but he seemed to take it well.
Well enough to detox at the hospital and come back to Callum when he needed him most.
“Yeah, I guess it did. Come on.”
I found my way to the chair beside the couch, returning the smile Callum was giving me. He looked happy, too. Even sounded happier. “Look what the cat dragged in. You’ve been harder to get a hold of lately.”
Despite the slight pang of guilt in my gut, I shrugged, trying to play it off. “Eh, I’ve just been busy. You know how it is. How’s everything been?”
“Good.” Callum nodded, shifting a bit. “Uh, we were just talking about how I need to clean Papa’s house, and then I’ll be set to sell it, and that’ll be the last of his assets to deal with.”
God, that was the worst part. I crossed my legs and tilted my head, frowning as the memory hit me of all the chaos after Grandma passed. “I’m sorry, Cal. I went through the same thing with my grandma. Let me know if you need anything, okay? I’ll come help you out with the cleaning part, too.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
They both looked totally relaxed, sitting together on the couch as if they hadn’t been apart for a decade. I loved seeing my friends in love. “You two look like you’re getting along well. Is there a lack of trouble in paradise?”
Callum turned to Tobi, his grin bigger than ever. “We’re doing really good. Tobes is close to a month sober, now.”
“That’s fucking awesome, man! Congratulations.
I’m really happy for you guys.” Fishy, Callum’s dog, leaped off Tobi’s lap and started circling the space in front of me.
His long, tiny, oddly shaped body could hardly handle the excitement in him.
His black tail swayed from side to side, the white tip sticking straight up.
“Oh, hi Fishy. You finally decided to say hello?”
“He’s used to you now, Jack.” Callum laughed. “He doesn’t care about you nearly as much as anyone else.”
I shook my head, bending down to give Fishy the Fishbowl puppy the pets he desperately wanted. He was wiggling and shaking, begging for attention.
When I did, though, Callum gasped. “Is that a fucking hickey, Jack?”
I froze. Completely froze. My body, my mouth, and my mind all froze as my face started to turn bright red. Had the collar of Forrest’s shirt moved? I didn’t even realize I’d had visible hickeys on my neck. “Uh, no?” Stupid fucking answer, but what else was I going to do?
Tobi pointed at me. “I’m an alcoholic. I know a liar when I see one. You’re lyin’.”
“And what if I am, huh? Geez, guys.” I leaned back up on the chair, pulling the shirt collar with me. “You don’t have to be weird.”
“Who is it? Who are you seeing?” Callum was in full detective mode, it seemed.
“No one and none of your business. It was a one-time thing. It won’t be happening again.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “I’m not an alcoholic, but you are my friend, and I can tell when you’re lying. You’re a liar.”
I groaned. “Oh, my god. Leave it alone. It’s nothing. It was nobody. Can I go eat your Oreos?”
Tobi scrunched his eyebrows at me. “How did you know we have Oreos?”
“Because Callum always has them. Duh. Are they double stuffed this time?”
Callum shook his head. “Yes, but you can’t have any.” I rolled my eyes when he said that. “You always eat them all, and I just bought them. I’m saving them for when I work in the shed.”
Tobi and I both jerked our heads toward him, Tobi shaking his immediately. “You eat in the shed when you’re doin’ woodwork?”
He looked between us. “Uh, yeah?”
“Dude!”
“Babe!”
Tobi and I had yelled at the same time, making Callum put his hands up in defense. “Sorry. I’m already breathing it all in; what’s the harm in eating it, too?”
Tobi frowned. “You should be wearing a mask when you do that stuff. Are you sayin’ you don’t?”
“I’m guessing I’m going to have to now.”
“You got that right. And no more eatin’ in there. Jesus Christ.”
I couldn’t help but laugh to myself about how they were bickering. I’d watched them go through hell to find each other again, and seeing the proof of how far they’d come truly warmed my heart. I was so fucking proud of them. So fucking happy for them.
Sometimes, I wondered if I could have that, too. Happiness. Love. I’d gone this long without someone special in my life, that I truly didn’t know if I deserved it. There was too much attached to me. Too much baggage and weight. It'd be unfair to lend it to anyone else.
With lending the baggage came losing control. So, even though I could see how much lighter my friends looked in love, I knew it’d never be in the cards for me. And for now, I was okay with that. At least I could cling to control and admire the bruises I got from the few nights I relinquished it.