Chapter Fourteen We Cross That Bridge When We Get to It
Chapter Fourteen
We Cross That Bridge When We Get to It
Owen wakes up to drool that isn’t his own drying on his chest, and a numb tingling in his arm from where Jacob has been sleeping
on it for the last few hours.
And he doesn’t mind one bit.
He can’t even pretend to care that he’s trapped, forced to watch as Jacob breathes in and out softly, his head nestled against
Owen’s mostly hairless chest, his breath warm against Owen’s skin.
He takes all the time he wants to study the strong lines of Jacob’s face, the subtle indications that he’s aged a whole year,
that sharp nose and those full lips. There’s the smattering of soft freckles along his cheeks. There are the acne scars, left
over from Jacob’s teenage years, and that one weird spot high on his cheek where a single thick black beard hair is growing
all by its lonesome. He eyes the dark purple marks that he left on Jacob’s chest, making sure that they were low enough to
be hidden by any T-shirt.
Two more days, he thinks.
Two more days until they’re back in San Francisco, and then maybe a few more days of Jacob being in the Bay before he goes back to the lab, and they both have to return to their real lives.
But what if they didn’t have to?
What if Owen told Jacob that he’d go with him, that he’d be willing to fill out all of the paperwork, find new doctors, get
relicensed to tattoo and pass the blood pathogen certification again. Give up his dream of opening a shop, at least for a
few years. Give up his home. Risk feeling the most alone and miserable he might ever feel.
Would it be worth it? Just to have Jacob back in his life?
“Hmm . . .” Jacob grumbles, shuffling a bit to make himself more comfortable against Owen’s naked chest. “You’re awake.” His
voice is a low murmur as he smiles at Owen, barely opening his eyes.
“Yeah,” Owen tells him. “Just thinking.”
“About what?”
Home. He’s thinking about home.
“Nothing,” Owen says, his hand moving automatically to run through Jacob’s hair. It’s always oily when he first wakes up,
causing it to stick up in a hundred different directions. “What were you dreaming about?”
“I don’t remember . . .” Jacob says. “I think I was back in high school and I couldn’t open up my locker, and the bell kept
ringing.”
“That’s a very vivid recollection for ‘I don’t remember.’”
“Did it ever occur to you that I wasn’t interested in reliving my trauma?” Jacob tries for a joke. Owen smiles at him softly.
“We should get up. Before someone notices that you’re in here,” Jacob whispers, but he doesn’t make a move to actually get up.
“We should . . .” Owen doesn’t budge either; he just closes his eyes again, dreaming of a world where he’d get to have these mornings again, the both of them perpetually late for work because they’re so desperate for just a few more seconds together.
Then comes the knocking.
“Jacob?” Kaitlyn’s voice echoes against the door. “You awake?”
Both men freeze, their eyes wide, mouths open as they try to silently conjure up a plan.
“Don’t answer,” Owen whispers, his voice barely audible. “She’ll think you’re still asleep.”
“Uh . . .” Jacob’s voice cracks loudly. “Yeah, I’m up.”
Owen buries his face in his pillow, letting out a silent groan.
“Can I come in?” Kaitlyn asks.
“No!” Jacob says, a little too quickly and way too loudly. “I mean, uh . . . no, you can’t. I’m . . . naked.”
“Oh, well, I was just wondering if Owen was in there with you? Kev said that he never came to bed last night.”
“Huh . . . weird.”
Kaitlyn pauses, and there’s a sound behind the door. For a moment, Owen thinks it’s going to open, but then he figures that
she’s probably just leaning against the frame. “So, you haven’t seen him?”
“Nope! Maybe you should . . . call him?” In an instant, Owen pops out of bed and darts around the room, searching for his
phone. Deep down he knows it’s on silent, has been since he got his first phone as a teenager. But that doesn’t stop his imagination
from running wild with the image of Kaitlyn calling him and his phone ringing loudly from inside Jacob’s room. Like something
out of a rom-com.
“Nah, his phone is on the coffee table outside, that’s why I’m worried,” Kaitlyn tells him.
“Oh, uh . . .” Jacob looks to Owen for any help at all, but he can’t risk saying much.
Just lie! Owen mouths. It’s not that hard!
Jacob looks panicked. “I think . . . uh . . . actually, yeah. He fell asleep on the couch.”
“Did you see him?” Kaitlyn asks.
“Yup! Before I went to bed, he was knocked out, so I left him there.”
“Oh, well . . .” Kaitlyn sounds confused. “Do you know where he went? Or why he didn’t take his phone?”
“No! No idea.” Jacob continues being an amazing liar. “Maybe he went to the breakfast buffet?”
“Yeah, probably . . .” Kaitlyn pauses. “I’m just overthinking it, right?”
“I’m sure he’s okay, Kait. He’s a big boy, don’t worry too much.”
Owen pretends to gag at being called “a big boy.”
“Ew,” Kaitlyn unknowingly agrees. “Don’t call him that, please.”
“I’m sure he’s around,” Jacob says, ignoring her. “He can take care of himself.”
“You’re right, you’re right,” she says, seemingly letting the subject go. “Abby and I are heading to breakfast; do you want
to join us?”
“I’m okay, just gonna shower! I’ll catch up with y’all later.”
“Okay, I’ll let you know if we spot Owen.”
They both sit there in silence, listening as Kaitlyn’s footsteps get quieter.
“You still can’t lie, holy shit,” Owen whispers.
“Well, I don’t like it, so why would I be good at it?” Jacob scolds. They both hesitate, watching each other when they hear
Abigail say something, then Kaitlyn laughs, and there’s some movement.
“We don’t tell them, right?”
Jacob shakes his head. “Hell no.”
Owen watches him, noticing the way that Jacob seems to be avoiding eye contact. “Now you’re thinking too much.”
“Well . . . what is this?” Jacob pulls his knees closer to his chest. “I know you said last night that it doesn’t have to be anything, but I . . .
I’ve never been all that good at casual. If that’s even what this is.”
“To tell you the truth, I don’t know,” Owen admits. And that scares the shit out of him. It’s not like he’s good at casual
either. Owen’s always needed a plan, needed to know what’s going on at all times. But this—how does he plan for this?
“You don’t regret it, do you?”
Owen shakes his head. “No.”
“I don’t either,” Jacob says to him. “So, what do we do?”
“We’ve got two days left of this trip,” Owen says. “What if we just pretended?”
“Pretended what, exactly?”
“That we’re not exes,” Owen explains.
“You want to get back together . . .” Jacob can’t help the confusion in his voice. “What, until the end of the cruise?”
Owen laughs at the absurdity of the situation, burying his face in his hands and letting out a muffled groan. “I don’t know,
what if we just didn’t think about it?”
“Not think about it?” Jacob parrots.
“Okay, can you please do something other than repeat me?”
“I’m sorry.” Jacob holds his hands up. “This is just weird.”
“Yeah . . . I know.” Owen hesitates. “But we could just . . . do what feels natural.”
“And what do we do after?” Jacob asks. “When we’re home?”
“We cross that bridge when we get to it.”
Jacob’s brows furrow. “Are you sure you’re feeling well?” he jokes, reaching over toward Owen’s forehead with the back of
his hand before Owen ducks away.
“I’m fine! I just . . . For the first time in a long time, I’m sure of what I want, and I . . . I just want it,” Owen admits.
“What do you want?” Jacob asks.
“You,” Owen replies with no hesitation at all.
For a moment, Jacob seems to think, and Owen braces himself for the worst. Between the two of them, Owen was always the more
logical, always the one to poke holes in Jacob’s schemes. If Jacob wanted to buy tickets to a movie or a game, Owen always
had to remind him to check his calendar, because the likelihood that Jacob had forgotten that he already had plans was pretty
high. Owen was the one who had to convince Jacob that they couldn’t order takeout or DoorDash every night, that they had to at least try to make healthy and balanced dinners. Owen always took care of the plants because Jacob would forget to water them. Owen
would feed Fitzwilliam when Jacob was running late for work and didn’t have time to on his way out the door.
But he’s tired of always having to play by life’s unwritten rules.
“Okay.” Jacob nods. “For the next two days, we’re not exes anymore. At least, not to each other.”
“What does that entail exactly?” Owen asks.
“Like, in front of Kaitlyn, or Abby, or Kevin. I’m guessing we should keep up the act?”
The act? Owen wonders. Is this not the act?
“I agree, we should keep this between us.”
“Agreed.”
“Holding your hand?” Owen asks. “That’s fine.”
Jacob nods enthusiastically. “And kissing you? That’s okay too?”
Owen agrees. It’s more than okay, in fact, especially if it’s anything like last night.
With his pinky extended, Jacob stretches his arm out. “And no talking about it until we’re back in San Francisco?”
Owen sits there, legs crossed as he stares at Jacob’s outstretched finger.
Every single alarm in Owen’s head is going off, telling him that there’s only one way this ends. Poorly.
But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to think about the consequences, not right now.
For once, he knows exactly what he wants.
So he reaches out, wrapping his pinky around Jacob’s and locking their thumbs together. “Pinky promise.”
“So, if you weren’t at breakfast,” Kaitlyn starts to ask, leaning over the empty plates that decorate their table at the buffet,
her hair almost falling into a puddle of maple syrup, “where were you?”
“I was at water aerobics,” Owen lies quickly, grateful that he took the time to think of a lie as he plotted his way back
to his and Kevin’s room.
“Water aerobics?” Kaitlyn eyes him.
“It’s good for my joints.” Owen shrugs. It’s not even a bad lie; he probably should’ve signed up for a class instead of letting a two-hundred-pound man sleep on top of him. He can’t help himself from meeting Jacob’s gaze further down the table as he chews on a slice of pineapple speared on a fork.
“Where’d you sleep?” Kaitlyn continues the interrogation.
“On the couch,” Owen replies, hoping that he’s making the right amount of eye contact. Then he starts to think that he’s making
too much. And now he’s overthinking it. “I passed out, and I guess I just stayed there.”
“Hey, Kaitlyn,” Jacob interjects. “Are you gonna eat those?”
“Huh?” Kaitlyn eyes the bowl of buttery grits in front of her, mostly untouched. “Oh, yeah. I guess not. Go for it.”
“So, what do we have on the agenda today?” Owen switches subjects quickly, praying that she doesn’t notice. “Anything fun
in Juneau?”
“Well, I wanted to do this hiking trail, but that might be too much for you,” Abigail says, sipping her coffee.
“Yeah.” Owen feels his cheeks flush when Jacob’s foot taps against his under the table. “But you guys should go. I can find
plenty in town to entertain me.”
“Noooo . . . We wouldn’t dare go on a hike without you.” Kaitlyn says the words like she’s pleading with Owen to raise a stink about not getting to go.
“Nah, I’m okay,” Owen promises, just to torture his best friend a little further.
Owen’s sure he’d have an amazing time if he sat himself down at a picnic table near the water and just watched the world pass
by for a while with his sketchbook and his headphones. The port that the boat pulled into offers the perfect view of Juneau
from across the bay, this idyllic pocket of a town situated under the snowy peaks of the mountains, the base surrounded by
a verdant green forest.
After a quick trip back to the room to get ready for the day, the group disembarks with droves of other passengers. Abigail’s focus darts between her phone and the line of buses and shuttles that are waiting. “We’re looking for the bus that’ll take us to the Mount Roberts trail . . .”
“Over there, I think?” Kevin points.
“Four and a half miles?” Kaitlyn whines under her breath, turning to Owen as she eyes the map that Abigail shared with her. “Did I do something to
piss her off?”
“Probably all the hair you leave in the drain,” Owen whispers, leaning in closer. Thankfully he doesn’t need to rely on his
cane much today, packing it with him mostly as a precaution.
“Hey, some of that hair is blond.” Kaitlyn pokes Owen in the chest.
“Yeah, but if Abigail tried to do this to me, it’d be ableist,” Owen remarks sarcastically.
“Hmm . . .” Kaitlyn pretends to think. “Could I swing the homophobic angle?”
Owen shrugs, sarcasm still obvious in his tone. “Maybe? Could be tough, being married to her and all.”
Kaitlyn snorts, which only draws Abigail’s attention toward them. “Hey, enough from you two! Help me find the bus.”
“It’s right behind you, baby.” Kaitlyn motions obviously.
Abigail turns, reading Mount Roberts Trail painted on the side. “Oh, well . . . I guess we’re where we need to be.”
“Wait, did you guys know that Jacob isn’t coming?” Kevin exclaims, pure betrayal in his eyes as he and Jacob both catch up
to the group.
“Do you see all that spruce?” Jacob starts to explain. “Unless you want me high on Benadryl for the rest of this trip, the last thing I need is to be up in those trees.”
Jacob’s eyes meet Owen’s, and Owen’s meet Jacob’s.
“God, can the two of you do anything?” Kaitlyn rolls her eyes dramatically.
“See, now you’re being ableist,” Owen jokes before he turns to Jacob. “What are you going to get up to?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “There’s actually an aquatic rehab facility that a friend of mine from Duke works at, could be
fun to go and see what she’s up to.” Jacob hovers alongside Owen as their friends join the end of the line for the bus. “What
about you?”
“Oh . . . you know, there are some shops that looked cool,” Owen tells him. “I haven’t gotten souvenirs for Ravi and Hailey
yet.”
There’s something in Jacob’s expression as he listens to Owen, something knowing, something that Owen decides he wants to
understand as well. “All right, well, in that case, Jacob and I should probably find the shuttle to take us into town,” Owen
says to Kaitlyn.
“Okay.” Kaitlyn’s voice is distracted as she focuses on reading the map that Abigail has unfolded out in front of her. “Uh,
I guess we won’t have much of a signal up on the mountain, but we’ll try and text you when we can.”
“Just don’t take any dramatic falls,” Owen warns.
“Yeah, I don’t think I’m the one who has to worry about that.”
“Hey!” Owen protests before he steps away, turning toward Jacob. “Do you know where we should go now?”
“Over here.” Jacob points, and Owen follows him toward a blue bus that’s parked off to the side.
“So . . . we’re spending the day together, right?” Jacob asks as they step onto the shuttle.
“Yeah!” Owen tells him. “I thought that was obvious?”
“Okay,” Jacob says to him as they take their seats next to each other, wrapping his hand around Owen’s where it’s settled
on his lap, their fingers threading together. “Just making sure.”