Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Ryan was underneath a freshly constructed picnic table, one of six he’d put together over the last seventy-two hours.
He liked it down there. Hidden beneath the tabletop, he was out of sight of Logan, who’d hit his daily moronic-question quota hours ago, and Beni, who’d exhausted her nosy-sister quota the second she opened her mouth.
He didn’t want to talk to her about what happened on the deck the night of the party. He didn’t want to talk to anybody.
When he’d left Jasper’s house the morning after the party, he’d been heartbroken. That wasn’t new. Every time he’d seen him since their fight, Ryan’s heart had split a little further down the middle, until the night of the party finally cut through the remaining threads.
But then, at the house, things had changed. Hadn’t they?
For days, Ryan had been trying to figure out what to do next. Unfortunately, that required thinking about the party, and thinking about the party meant reliving it.
The night of the party was the most they’d touched each other in months, and even now, days later with a sore heart, thinking back on how responsive Jasper was to his touch was enough to get him hard.
The look on Jasper’s face as he begged for the relief only one person could provide gave Ryan the same pleasure he’d feel from Jasper on his knees.
He’d relived that moment at least twenty times.
And every single time, the memory of being on the deck turned into the memory of what happened after, when Jasper had essentially taken the heel of his boot to Ryan’s heart and ground it into the living room floor like a spent cigarette.
Bringing a date to the party. Letting Ryan become friendly with that date, letting Ryan learn about mold from him. Gifting his watch.
He could forgive all that, if he had to. But begging Ryan to help him come, then forcing him to watch as he got off to thoughts of another man’s mouth on him? Jasper had hurt Ryan in a lot of ways over the last month, but ruining his ability to jerk off in peace was a particularly brutal one.
Ryan poked his head out from under the table and found Beni standing there, holding out a wrench to replace the one Logan had dropped down a drain pipe. Ryan took it without a word, then scooted back beneath the cover of the wood.
“These are really nice, Ryan,” she said, patting the tabletop. “They make the park feel so much cleaner.”
“Yeah. I think so, too.”
“Do you need any help? I’m not super handy, but I could do more than find wrenches.”
“I’m fine. Logan is here somewhere…” Ryan sighed. “Which actually isn’t helpful at all, but at least this way I’m not lying to Jasper quite as much.”
“I have a feeling Jasper doesn’t care who does the work as long as the park gets fixed up.”
The top of Ryan’s head poked out from under the bench. “You’ve known Jasper as long as I have. Does that sound like Jasper to you?”
“I think Jasper is struggling as much as you are right now.”
Ryan grumbled and reached up to tighten some bolts on the table. The damp air made the handle of the wrench slip against his skin, and he dropped it on his eye.
“Ow, fuck!” he yelled.
“What happened?”
“I dropped the fucking wrench on my face. I’m gonna get a black eye.”
“It’s just a wrench. You won’t get a black eye.” Beni bent down to look at Ryan’s face and winced. “Oh, shit. Yeah, you might get a black eye.”
“Fuck this stupid park,” Ryan said, rolling out from under the table. “Fuck this park, and fuck Jasper, fuck Logan, and fuck me for being stupid enough to think this was a good idea.”
Beni took the wrench from his hand and rubbed his shoulder. “It’s really nice of you. This place is important to both Jasper and Stevie. If it helps, you can pretend you’re doing it just for her.”
The picnic benches Ryan built were near the restaurant, so he ignored Beni’s stupid, unhelpful comment and took off, hoping to find some ice. The restaurant was closed for the season, same as the rest of the park, but maybe the kitchen still had running water.
“Ryan?” she called, following him.
He ignored her again and hauled himself through the large open ordering window on the side of the restaurant—the same one he was supposed to replace sometime in the next few weeks.
Too irritated to bother hunting down the key to the front door, he dragged himself awkwardly across the counter on his stomach before dropping onto the kitchen floor, glad that at least the people Jasper hired did a good job cleaning.
The skin below his eye was throbbing and hot.
He reached up to touch it and regretted it immediately, hissing at the sharp pain that shot through the entire side of his face.
It dragged up endless memories of his early career when Jasper was at all his shows, acting as the promo’s volunteer medic.
What he’d give to be dealing with a black eye at the hands of someone else instead of his own clumsiness.
At least in the ring, there was some purpose to it.
Here at Jasper’s park, he was just patching over sloppy work and hurting himself in the process, something that felt a little too close to what the rest of his life was shaping up to be.
“Ryan, can you please stop ignoring me?”
“I’m not trying to ignore you. I’m trying to find some ice.”
“There’s not going to be any ice in there.”
Ryan opened the lid to the ice machine and grumbled when he saw the pristine—but empty—bucket. He slid down the wall and sat with his legs stretched out.
“Come out here and I’ll go find a first aid kit. Maybe they have one of those freeze packs in there.” Beni leaned in through the window and winced again when she saw his face. It was the second wince in about ten minutes, which made Ryan worry. “Oh, buddy. Come on, let’s go deal with that.”
Ryan pushed himself upright with a grunt. He didn’t want to be there anymore. The kitchen was too clean and quiet without Jasper around.
His chest tightened unexpectedly with memories from years ago, like when Jasper showed Ryan the underbelly of the park for the very first time, greasy kitchen included.
Jasper had been embarrassed at the state of it—the sticky floors, busted freezer seal, and ancient fryer.
Ryan hadn’t cared either way and promptly forgot about it, too focused on the way Jasper lit up when he talked about what he knew the park could be, with a little time and elbow grease.
He wished for a little more grease or dirt somewhere now, just to feel closer to that moment in time. Back then, Jasper would’ve dragged Ryan into a chair and held the ice pack to his eye while apologizing for the dust. Now, it was Ryan alone in a sterile kitchen with only his sister to care.
A crash outside made them both jump. A loud curse followed immediately after.
“Is that Logan?” Beni asked, taking off towards the source of the sound. “Logan?”
Ryan sighed and crawled out the window. “Jesus Christ.”
“I’m okay!” Logan called. “I’m fine, I just spilled… uh, a lot of paint. A lot of paint.”
Any thoughts Ryan had of giving up on the park repairs vanished when he walked just twenty feet down the path behind the restaurant and found Logan next to a tipped wagon he’d been using to haul paint.
His legs and shoes were splattered with a rainbow of colors as he stood in a puddle of the same, now seeping into the ground.
“I’m sorry. I thought this would be easier, but I hit a tree root.”
Ryan nodded, inhaling deeply so he didn’t completely lose it. “Okay.”
“I guess I could cut the roots to make the ground smoother, huh?” Logan said, chuckling to himself.
Ryan didn’t respond, just bent down to pick up paint cans, stacking them in the wagon.
“Remember? When you got mad at me about the tree root I cut for the fence?”
“I remember,” Ryan said through gritted teeth.
Beni grimaced. “Okay. Let’s, uh… Logan, help me find some rags. There should be some in the kitchen, and you’ll be able to slip in through the window pretty easily.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Take your pants and shoes off first. Do not get the walls painty, Logan!” Ryan snapped.
“I’ll meet you there in a minute!” Beni yelled at a retreating Logan.
Ryan did what he could to shove the excess paint back in the cans—it was ruined regardless, but at least he could protect the soil if he got most of it off the ground.
But with every attempt at scooping the paint, he grew more frustrated.
His boots were ruined. His hands were covered.
His heart was confused, and Logan was always around.
The trees surrounding them became fuzzy as Ryan’s breathing sped up and his heart raced.
A hand on his shoulder grounded him and led him to a spot in the dirt where there was no paint.
“Hey,” Beni said, crouching in front of him.
“Breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. That’s good.
Why don’t you head out? Logan and I can finish cleaning this up, and then I’ll send him home.
I’ll get a pizza for dinner, and we can divide up the kid activities so you don’t have to see Jasper as much next week. ”
Ryan blew out a big breath and nodded, giving himself a few minutes to collect himself before leaving to find his car.
“Oh, man,” Stevie said. “Did you see what happened to Ryan?”
“What?” Jasper walked over to where she was sitting at the kitchen counter and peered over her shoulder.
She lifted her phone and laughed. “Poor guy.”
“What happened?”
“He dropped a wrench on his face.”
“Oh,” Jasper said, taking her phone. He zoomed in on his face, frowning at the bruise surrounding his eye—deep purple and swollen, jarring against the pale pink color of his normally chiseled cheek. His thumb swiped against Ryan’s eye, gently enough that it didn’t move the photo.
Stevie’s eyebrow raised. “What is this?”
“What is what?”
“You’re zooming in on his bruised eye? After you humped him in front of the entire Friendsmas party while on a date with my coworker.”
“It wasn’t a date with Shawn. We’re friends.”