Chapter 6
Roo
I’m the equivalent of a man-child as Tanner dresses for work and I try not to mope over the fact that he’s leaving me for the night.
We’ve had a good few days together, but every time I try to tell him I’m gay, the words get stuck.
I know I don’t owe him anything, but it’s not something I want to keep from him.
It’s inevitable that I’ll tell him soon—my sanity depends on it—but I need to find the words.
Still, I can’t force myself to say it. I want to milk every last minute I have with him.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asks, walking back into the room.
I’m only a teensy bit disappointed his full uniform is at the station because that T-shirt and pants combo is doing it for me.
Put him in a fireman calendar, and they’ll sell out in minutes.
Sure, those copies would all be to me, but still.
“I’ve managed to last five years without you. I doubt I’m going to fall apart in a night.”
He sighs and shakes his head, golden hair catching the living-room light. “Famous last words.”
I shift down farther on the couch. “You can put it on my tombstone.”
He bares his teeth as he cringes. “I don’t like joking about that.”
“Aw, would you miss me?” I already know his answer, and I know I’m pushing it, but I’ll never not love hearing how much he cares about me. And how he states it like an indisputable fact.
“Duh.” He heads into the kitchen to grab his dinner from the fridge. “You sure you don’t need me to leave you some?”
“Nah, I’ll order takeaway.”
He snorts. “Takeaway. God, you’re such an Aussie now.”
“I was always an Aussie.”
“Maybe when we first met.” He crosses his arms over the counter and grins at me. “But I Americanized you real quick. Showed you the error of your ways. Now …” Tanner lifts his eyes to the ceiling. “Your accent doesn’t know what it’s doing, and you’re using phrases like takeaway.”
“Takeout, then.” His teasing is like music to my ears. “Y’all small-town folks heard of it?”
He picks up an apple and pegs it at me so fast, I barely manage to bat it away in time. “Our takeout actually tastes good. None of that fast-food crap.”
“I didn’t realize you were picky about your food.”
“I’m basically a connoisseur. Should start my own blog.”
I snort. “Ten years ago, maybe. And I think you need to know how to turn on a computer first.”
“Hey …” He lifts up his phone. “I can video-call and everything now.”
“Took you long enough.” I lift my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. “I missed seeing your face.”
He holds my stare a moment, happiness practically pouring from him. “Lucky you get to see it every day now.”
“Lucky doesn’t cover it.” I’m not even trying to flirt; it’s just … the truth.
“Eh.” He waves his hand like he’s embarrassed. “Right back at you.”
“I’ll see you in the morning?” I curl up on the couch, trying hard not to pout.
He catches me off guard with his laugh. “Morning. Right. Do you even know what that is?”
“It’s the thing that happens when I drink too much.”
“Sure it is.” He eyes where I’m lying with my hands tucked under my cheek. “You know, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the sleeping situation.” He shuffles his feet, and it takes me a moment to remember I shouldn’t be staring at his pecs.
His round pecs.
His pecs that I was admiring earlier when they were beaded with water …
“Sleeping situation?”
“Yeah, the couch can’t be too comfortable.” He rounds the kitchen counter and props himself against a wall, heavy boots planted wide, hands tucked in his pockets. “I won’t be home tonight, so you can take my bed.”
That gets my attention. I sit up, staring at him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, well, it makes sense, right? I haven’t washed the sheets, but …”
My loud snort cuts him off. “You really think I care about that when you know how filthy my bedroom was when we were younger?”
“True.” He laughs. “Your room stank.”
“Which is why I always stayed at your place. No guy has the right to be as obsessively clean as you are.”
He holds out his hands and looks around. “You’re welcome.”
“Thanks. And I don’t mean for the place being clean, because I do not give a single fuck about that. Thanks for the bed.”
“Okay. Well. Enjoy.”
Tanner throws his bag over his shoulder, and I watch as he grabs his food, keys, wallet, and phone, making a flustered mess of his exit, and when he finally gets to the door, he pauses.
“Hey, Roo?”
I poke my head over the back of the couch. “Yeah?”
“What do you call it when four kangaroos have sex?”
A tiny part of me dies inside, even as a stupid smile takes over my face. It’s a mistake, though, because as soon as he sees it, I resign myself to the fact that these jokes are back and here to stay. “If you say a kang—”
“A kangbang.”
His laugh is loud, and I flip him off as he pulls the door closed behind him.
I’d really thought we were done with the stupid jokes I’d reluctantly taught him the summer before freshman year. Apparently he’s decided there’s no better time to revive them than when we’re trying to get our friendship back to normal.
And as much as I hate those jokes, I also love that he remembers.
I wish he were still here to annoy me with more.
The brief lightness in my mood dissolves into darkness. How the hell did I get through five years when I miss him so much after only five seconds?
So instead of watching TV or dicking around on my phone, I take a shower, get into my pajamas, and crawl into Tanner’s bed with a book. The blankets and pillows smell so much like him, it’s as if he’s here with me.
I curl up on his side of the bed, tuck his teddy under my arm, and let my eyes fall closed. I’m right on the edge of falling into melodramatic longing, but I push it all away and sink into the comfort it brings me instead.
It’s so tempting to jerk off. So, so tempting after a long day of feeling his body sliding against mine in the water, of glimpsing his thick cock hanging between his legs in the shower, his round ass, what he was wearing before he headed to the fire station …
I laugh and bite down on my fist to try and dissuade my interested dick. Thankfully, I get it to calm down before it’s too late, and instead focus on my book.
I feel more relaxed than I have in days, weeks, years. I feel home.
I have no idea when I fell asleep. The only thing I’m vaguely aware of are fingers lightly stroking through my hair. They’re comforting, steady, and I lean into them a little as a smile tugs at my lips.
“Good morning,” Tanner’s rough voice says. Then he laughs. “Or should I say afternoon?”
“Hmm?” I grunt as I come to, peeking out at the analogue clock he has sitting on his side table. It’s already twelve thirty. “Ah, shit.” I push up, still half asleep, and go to swing my legs out of his bed, even as my body tries to fight me on it.
“Hey, where are you going?”
“I meant to be out of here before you got home from work. Sorry. I—”
“Overslept? Shocker.” He grabs my shoulder and gives me a little tug. “No point running off now.”
Okay, true. If it’s this late, he’s probably been home for a while now.
Does that mean we’ve been sharing a bed this entire time?
I collapse back against the pillow and turn to him.
Without the long hair I’m used to, I can’t work out if he’s been asleep already, because it looks exactly the way it always does.
“Fair warning, Mom was messaging me. She said now that you’re back, she fully expects you to help out with the Sunflora festival.”
“Is she still in charge of that?”
“Sure is.”
“God, it’s like she doesn’t remember me at all.”
Tanner laughs. “Good sleep?”
“Yeah, actually. My back doesn’t feel like it wants to murder me.” I cringe for effect before my face relaxes again. “What about you? You’re not just coming to bed now, are you?”
Tanner smiles, and his teeth are almost as white as his shirt. “Nah, I got home before six, so I’ve had a few hours’ sleep. Unlike someone I know, I’m not greedy about it.”
I smirk as Tanner reaches for the blankets, then pulls the heavy duvet up over my chest, and makes a fuss of checking it’s tucked in around me. My heart swoons. “I’m not greedy,” I say, trying to find my voice again. “But I’m not this pretty by accident, you know.”
“I know.” He grunts. “I’ve seen all those little bottles in the bathroom.”
“Nothing wrong with a good skin-care regimen.” My dry throat has my voice coming out in a croak.
It doesn’t help when Tanner shifts onto his side, head propped on one hand, and his legs move so close to mine, I can feel their heat under the blanket.
It’s so tempting to close the small amount of space between us, but I hold off.
“You’ll have to teach me sometime.”
“Sure thing.” I narrow my eyes at him playfully. “Seems you like what I’ve done with my hair too. Now, I forgave you for the watching-me-sleep thing, but hair-stroking? Tanner, that’s next level.”
He laughs, even as his cheeks tinge pink. “Sorry.”
I shrug. “Don’t be. Not like it’s the first time I’ve woken up to you groping me.”
“Hey, that was one time.”
“You were snuggling me.” I try not to smile. “With a massive boner. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”
“Roo …” He buries his face in his free hand. “I thought we swore we’d never mention that again.”
“No, we swore we’d never speak of it to anyone. Both of us already know.”
He scowls. “Don’t act like you never get morning wood. I swear I’d wake up to that thing looking at me.”
“Maybe, but I never rubbed it up against you, did I?” No matter how desperately I wanted to.
“You know …” His forehead wrinkles as he looks at me again. “We’ve shared a bed so many times, it seems kinda dumb for you to be sleeping on the couch. Like, who the hell made that decision?”
“I don’t know. It felt weird. I mean, we’re a lot bigger now than we were then. And I think we can both agree things feel different now.”
“Eh.” He flops back onto his back, and this time I shift up onto my side to see him. “Is it weird if I say it was nice? Having you here this morning?”
Nerves tickle my gut. “Maybe it should be. But it feels … normal.”
The relief on Tanner’s face makes me reach over and flick his nose.
“Then you can stay in here until your bed comes. No more sore back.”
“I’m not going to argue.” Though for sure, I should.
Because yeah, my back is going to be a hell of a lot better sleeping in an actual bed, but that morning boner is going to be a real issue.
Especially when the problem isn’t only relegated to the mornings.
Just having Tanner stretched out beside me like this already has my cock’s interest, and I’m suddenly very thankful I have the blanket for protection.
Goddamn, I need to hurry up and tell him.
“So …” His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, and I hate how much I notice it. “The surgery. I’m guessing you have a scar from it. Is that why you’ve grown your hair?”
“Ah, so that’s why you were petting me like a dog?”
“Kinda.” His eyes turn sheepish, like he knows I’ll forgive him for anything when he gives me that look.
He’s right that I’m growing my hair to hide the faded pink line from where they literally peeled back my scalp.
It’s not so much that I’m embarrassed by it, though, more that it always leads to questions when people see it, which then leads to talking about my seizures, and Yes, I’m epileptic, and Oh, you know someone who is …
nice …, because what else do you say to that?
And while I might not be embarrassed, it sure as hell makes me feel vulnerable. I don’t want to be the sick kid anymore. It’s one of the reasons I refuse to wear that stupid bracelet.
“I’m so happy it worked for you,” he says, gaze catching on where I’m sure he can see the end of the faded scar in front of my ear.
“Funny.” I smile. “Me too.”
Tanner shifts so he’s on his side again, and we lie there looking at each other for a moment. So close, I feel his exhales ghost my skin.
His voice dips low when he speaks. “I was a bit in awe of you growing up.”
“Me?” There is no way I heard that right.
“Yeah, you. You didn’t give a shit what anyone thought, and you went through more than most people did.”
“Oh no, I definitely cared.”
“Okay, but you never let it get to you.”
“You know it did. Seizing out at school, the fucking diapers—”
“They weren’t diapers. They were absorbent underwear.”
“They were bulky and horrible and the absolute bane of my existence.”
“I know.” His soft voice derails the fit I was working up to, and I take a deep breath.
“There was a lot I hated about myself.”
Tanner’s eyebrows bunch up, and he runs one large hand over my head, then snatches it away like he’s second-guessing himself. “There was a lot you hated, but you never hated yourself. You flipped off anyone who gave you shit, and did what you wanted.”
The fact that he sees it that way … My head drops forward as I start laughing. “That’s because I had you. Because I knew that no matter what, shit between us would never change, and if anyone really upset me, you’d kick their ass.”
“Again, that only happened once. I hated fighting.”
“And yet you still beat Toby Michels into the ground when he poured water in my lap and called me a baby.”
Even now, seven years later, Tanner’s jaw gets tighter. “Asshole.”
“See? You always had my back.”
“I always will. It just … pissed me off. I’d see how exhausted and checked out you were before and after a seizure. Those things took a lot out of you. It wasn’t fair that dumbasses thought they could give you shit about it too.”
And lying here, studying my best friend, agreeing to share his bed, going over old memories … it makes me feel lighter than I have in a long time. But I can’t enjoy it. Because of the big gay elephant in the room.
I lick my dry lips as I try to form the words in my head. As I try to convince myself that I need to tell him. Because holding myself back, when he’s making every effort to reconnect, isn’t just uncomfortable for me, it’s unfair to him.
And this closeness—not only the physical part—is starting to mess with my head. I swear his stare dips to my mouth, which makes me do the same. I trace his lips with my gaze, wishing it were my tongue instead. All I want is to press closer, to feel his warmth, to taste his breath.
Suddenly, the thick blanket feels too restrictive. “Maybe …”
His eyes flick to mine again, and this is the first time in so long that I’ve been able to hold eye contact with him. It’s like a punch to the chest how much I love it.
“Maybe what?”
“Remember how I asked if there was anything I could tell you that would make you rethink our friendship?”
“And remember how I told you no?”
“What if …” I catch the side of my bottom lip with my teeth and bite down hard before releasing it. The echoing sting helps me get the words out. “What if I told you I’m gay?”