Chapter 8
Roo
“When did you become such a heavy bastard?” Tanner grunts as we reach Harvey’s Burger House. He sets me down, and I reluctantly let go of his neck as my feet hit the pavement.
“And yet you made it all the way here without dropping me.”
“Won’t be happening again.”
I smile. “We’ll see.” All it took was me sitting on the ground and refusing to move until he piggybacked me in here. And I’d do it all over again if it meant rubbing up against his back for another half a mile.
“You’re buying me a soda.”
“A soda,” I mock, loving the way he draws out his o’s. And sure, Sunbury has its issues, but this time around I’m not totally hating it.
Piper is behind the counter again when we walk in, and Tanner holds a hand up in greeting, then leads me to a booth. The vinyl squeaks as I slide in, and Tanner hands me a menu without bothering to open his.
“Already know what you’re having?” I ask.
“The usual.”
“Of course, the usual.” I shake my head. “Which is?”
“Big breakfast.”
Well, he didn’t get a body that could haul my ass around by going for the salad. “I don’t even know if I can stomach anything yet. Especially if we’re running back.”
“We definitely are.”
I sneer at the menu like it’s flipping me off. “Guess I’m going for the toast, then.”
“Soda?”
“If you want it down the front of you when you’re carrying me home.”
He doesn’t immediately respond, and when I glance at him, he’s smiling.
“Yes?”
“I like that.”
“What?”
“Home. That our place is home, and you’re there with me.”
I eye him for a moment, waiting for the punchline. Yeah, home is amazing with him, but there’s a very clear reason why I think that way. “Getting sentimental in your old age?”
He laughs and kicks my foot under the table but doesn’t answer. “So, you don’t need to take medication anymore?”
“Nope. It never worked anyway, and the few we tried after the surgery didn’t make a difference. No point dealing with all that if I don’t have to.”
“I’m glad. Some of the ones you tried made you really sick.”
“Yeah, throwing my guts up at school was never exactly fun. Damn, high school was great.”
“We did have good times, though.”
“If being back here has reminded me of anything, it’s that there are way more shit memories than good.”
Tanner’s face falls, and he picks up his menu. “You know what you want?”
“Yep.” I say, feeling the tiniest bit guilty for bringing the mood down.
“Cool. I’ll go order.” He jumps up before I can object, and after I tell him what I want, he makes a beeline for Piper. I watch each long, confident stride as he skirts around the tables between us and the counter.
Sharing a bed last night was a special kind of torture.
Every time Tanner moved, it was like the air in the room pulled tight, wrapped around me, and sent every nerve vibrating with the force of an impaled arrow.
His heavy breaths, and the occasional brush of his leg or his arm, or the one time his bent knee rested against my ass …
None of that is appropriate to be thinking of in the middle of a burger house, surrounded by families.
I watch Tanner shift from foot to foot as Piper crosses her arms over the counter and leans toward him.
Her smile is huge, and a weird feeling prickles up my spine, like a primitive leftover of survival of the fittest or some shit.
No matter how much I’m logically aware that Tanner and I aren’t a thing, the need to walk over and claim him is strong.
Because while we might not be dating—and probably never will be—he’s mine. And no way am I letting him go for Piper fucking Harvey. Tanner finally shifts away from the counter and starts in my direction. He looks up. Catches my eyes. And my stupid heart flips at being his sole focus.
He flicks my nose on his way past, and it goes a long way toward relieving some of the sticky doubt that started to creep in. He knows I’m gay, and nothing’s changed between us. Was I a patron saint in a past life?
“Wanna start my education?” he asks after letting me stare at him for a moment.
“No time like the present. What do you want to know?”
He picks up the saltshaker from the middle of the table and sprinkles some in his hand. “I dunno what there is to know, so I don’t really know what I’m missing. You know?” He licks the pile of salt from his palm and grins at me.
“I can’t believe you still do that.”
He smiles. “It tastes good.”
“Yeah, but it’s bad for you.”
“So are a lot of things. But if I like something, I’m going to keep at it. Life’s too short to give up what makes you happy.”
Okay, what’s that supposed to mean? Is he still talking about salt, or does he somehow know where my thoughts are at and is warning me not to mess up our friendship? I swallow thickly, quickly breaking eye contact.
“All right, so here’s your first lesson in That’s So Queer.
There’s a thing called the Kinsey Scale that ranges from zero to six.
I’m a big old six. Straight people are a zero, and then there’s a whole bunch of people who range between one and five.
Some of those people call themselves bi, some use heteroflexible, others prefer no label, and some people—like Circus—don’t give a fuck about the scale and care more about the person than their gender. ”
He groans. “I don’t know what any of that means.”
Okay, different approach, then. I borrow a pen and pad from Piper, then return to the table and sketch a line with numbers beneath it. Tanner has always done better with visual cues.
“This is me.” I circle the six. “Totally gay, dick obsessed, never been with a woman.” I circle the zero.
“This is …” I almost say his name. I should, given that’s how he’s always identified, but saying it makes things feel too definite.
“A straight person. One hundred percent into the opposite sex.” Then I draw a circle around the other numbers.
“And this is everyone who isn’t exclusively attracted to either the same or the opposite sex. Make sense?”
“Yeah.” He shoots me a quick smile. “Sorry.”
I jab the pen at him, tracking a line of ink over his forearm. “Say sorry again, and your face is next.”
“I’m terrified.” And he doesn’t need to roll his eyes when his tone practically does it for him.
“Done being a smartass?”
“Sorry, continue.”
I lift the pen. “What did you say?”
“Sor-ah, I mean—”
“You’ve done it now.”
I lunge across the table, pen ready, but Tanner catches my wrist and ducks out of the way.
I redouble my efforts, grin possibly manic, and he looks the same.
It’s such a complete throwback to what things between us used to be like, that it takes me a minute to realize I’ve stopped trying altogether and he’s just sitting there, staring at me with warm brown eyes.
A throat clears beside us, making me jump.
Piper sets down our drinks. “Coffees?” Her tone is flat, and she slides them onto the table and leaves before either of us can reply.
“What’s her deal?”
“Nothing.” Tanner’s shrug is rough as his large fingers pick up the tiny packets of sugar. He’s blushing to his ears, and that nasty feeling settles over me again.
“Still a terrible liar. What’s up?” I force myself to sound teasing, even as my chest tries to close in on itself. “You into her or something?”
“No.” He looks up, and his response is a little too sudden and certain.
I eye him. “Right …”
He rubs at his neck as he glances toward the counter, then leans in a little closer. “We dated in high school.”
“What?” My surprise overrides any other reaction.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, now’s not the time to get bashful on me.
How the hell didn’t I know that?” The teasing is gone, and my question comes out harder than intended.
But honestly, what the hell? He dated someone in high school?
We didn’t date. We never dated. Not anyone.
It was always Tanner and Roo with no room for anyone else. Except …
“We were both swimmers. We hung out a bit after training, and she helped me with the bullying, and then one day we kissed. No big deal.”
“Except you dated?” I press my fingers into my temples where a headache is starting to build.
“You okay?”
“Fine. Continue. Kissing and dating and shit.”
He sighs. “I didn’t realize we were dating.
We hung out a few times while you were busy, and we sometimes kissed.
It was … I dunno. Then she started to get mad because I never wanted to do anything with her if you were free, and …
” He shrugs again. “We broke up. She said some things, and it took us the rest of senior year and a bit after to become friends again.”
“Could have mentioned that when I asked what I didn’t know about you.” It takes all my energy to keep my voice even. “I don’t know how you didn’t realize you guys were dating.”
“Eh, it was never a big thing to me. She was pretty, and nice, and smelled like flowers. But spending more time with her would have taken away from time with you, and it didn’t seem worth it.” He swallows, then meets my eye. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah …” Am I, though? Here we are, two dumb kids thinking we know everything about each other when apparently we both have our secrets. “I guess I hid my gay side from you, and you kinda hid your straight side from me.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, a bit.”
“So if all that happened back in high school, what’s her deal now?”
Tanner huffs, looking completely lost. “She asked me out about a month ago. Made it clear this time she meant a date, but I couldn’t go, and I got busy with work, and nothing seemed to line up.” He flicks an apologetic look my way. “Now you’re back, and I told her we needed time to catch up first.”
“That sounds like a pretty clear no to me. Think she’ll get the message?”
“I dunno …” He sips his coffee, going all pink again. “She’s sort of pretty.”
“Is she?” Oops, there’s the snappy tone again.
“Mom has pointed out a few times that we’d be good together. Some days I feel like people are just waiting for it to happen. The dating and marriage and little blond kids.”
Him talking about a future where he’s married with offspring is roughly on the scale of me driving a knife into my chest, carving out my heart, then dropping it into the middle of the table. Dramatic? Why yes, thank you, I am.
He knocks my foot with his. “Relax, Roo. We’re not done catching up yet. And even when we’re both dating someone, it won’t matter.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Because I’ll be in another fucking state by then?
He turns his attention back to his coffee. “Because you’ll always be my number one.”
The words come out as a mumble, like a throwaway comment he can easily forget. But it’s like he scooped up my heart and stuffed it back behind my ribs, kick-starting it for another day.
Piper drops off breakfast without another word, and while the jealous monster hissing in my gut will never like her, I can’t help feeling bad. I know what it’s like to want Tanner and have him be completely oblivious. But sorry, lady, he’s mine.
Because while we might have little things we’ve kept from each other, had moments we didn’t share, maybe it was needed. Maybe we needed people outside of each other to realize what we have together.
And I’m going to fight to keep this thing for as long as I can.