Chapter 7 #4
Joey’s warm hand wraps around my forearm, squeezing tight and bringing me back to reality.
I blink my eyes against the mixture of rain and tears.
Joey’s easy to see even through the blur.
He’s always easy to see. That’s why loving him is so hard, because even in my scariest moments, Joey’s been the thing my eyes lock on to without any fear.
I can’t rely on him like I want to, not without losing him in return.
But the way his eyes are looking at me now, eyelashes soaked with rain, makes me feel like he’s holding something back for the first time in our friendship.
Maybe I’ve been wrong. Maybe it’ll be hard to go without him, spending the rest of my life pining for him in secret, wishing it was me he was loving late at night.
“Drew,” Joey says again just before tugging me toward his car.
Another crack of lightning lights up the cove.
A moment later, thunder follows behind to chase the lightning away.
The rain lightens under the tree canopy over the car, and I watch, tired and worn out, as Joey grabs a large towel to wrap around my shivering body.
He briefly rubs his hands over me with a shake of his head.
Joey manhandles me into the car, and I let him, too tired to fight anymore.
My heart pounds so hard I can hear it in my ears.
Bowing my head, I squeeze my eyes shut and pull the towel tighter around my large body.
Joey’s SUV always makes me feel too oversized, too big.
I might not be as tall as Beau, but squeezing into the front seat of Joey’s SUV is a feat.
I’m suddenly aware that I’m shirtless and in my swim shorts, alone in the car with Joey.
The car door slams behind Joey and he starts the SUV, then fiddles with all the buttons for a moment to turn the heated seats on, the heat on low to stop my skin from prickling at the cold.
“I’m taking you home,” Joey says as he starts to make the turn to head away from the springs.
“My car,” I complain, because I don’t want to come back tonight.
“It’ll keep.”
The words carry an air of finality that stops me from arguing.
I guess I’ll figure it out later tonight.
Leaning my forehead against the window, I watch the farmland pass us by through the heavy rain.
The rain is falling so heavily that I can’t even hear the radio.
Before long, we’re pulling up in front of my house, and I ready myself to wander back inside, alone and wrung out.
But Joey squashes that thought when he hops out of the car and comes around to my side, quickly tugging me out.
My heart does another frightening lurch when Joey bends down to easily locate my spare key under the mat.
He knows everything about me, except one large, very important piece.
Joey unlocks the front door and pushes into the house without a worry, like he’s belonged here his whole life.
I want to cry again.
The house is as warm and quiet as it always is because I keep it that way. Despite the second bedroom having a kid’s bed and toys in it, the house is lonely and silent. Joey tugs me into the kitchen with his hand that hasn’t dropped from my forearm this entire time.
Joey turns around in the kitchen to rub his hands over my shoulders. He frowns, his lips parting slightly as he continues to stare at me. “You’re still cold.”
Not really. It’s his touch that’s fucking me up.
“I’m fine.”
His eyes flicker back up to mine. “Are you?”
I clear my throat and step away, needing space. “Yes.”
“I need to talk to you about something.”
“Can we do it another time,” I beg, wishing he’d just let me be.
“Let’s get changed first,” Joey says, like that will fix everything.
I sigh as Joey drags me toward my bedroom.
I stand frozen in the middle of my room while Joey digs through my drawers to pull out two sets of clothing.
He shoves me toward the bathroom, hands me a set of clothes, and wordlessly tells me to change.
Relief washes over me when the door closes, leaving me alone in the warm, unmoving air of the bathroom.
I stare at myself in the mirror for a few moments, willing myself to survive whatever this day is turning out to be.
Carefully, I fold Joey’s towel up, then hop in the shower for a quick wash to get the spring water off me.
God, I’m so tired. Not even the warmth of the water and my orange-scented bodywash can wake me up.
The tiredness is in my bones, so deep I’m not sure a million nights of restful sleep will cure it. Real and true bone-tired exhaustion.
I finish rinsing off, then clamor out of the shower to haphazardly dry off and dress in the sweatpants and old T-shirt Joey’d handed me.
When I open the bathroom door, steam escapes into the bedroom, and I squint to locate Joey.
But he’s easy to find. He’s shirtless, dressed in a pair of my sweatpants that are too big for him, and he’s sitting at the edge of my bed with a distressed-looking piece of paper in his hands.
I swallow hard. “Joey?”
He keeps his gaze on the paper in his hands, working the edges with his thumbs. He clears his throat awkwardly, still refusing to look at me. “I want to read you something. I wrote it. I just want you to… to listen and not interrupt, okay?”
Oh.
He’s going to end our friendship because I can’t… can’t get past my feelings. He’s figured me out. Oh god. I whisper out an “okay” just before covering my mouth to hold back the sobs that desperately want to escape.
Joey clears his throat once, squares his shoulders, then starts to read.
“Dear Drew,” Joey says quietly, voice shaking with the words.
“I am sorry I’ve made you feel like you can’t tell me how you feel.
I’m sorry for making you feel for one minute that you have to hide something about yourself from me.
And I’m sorry for making you feel for even one second that you’re unlovable in the way you most deserve.
” Joey pauses and fiddles with the paper, still refusing to look up at me.
My heart pounds so hard I feel ill. “But I’m mostly sorry for not understanding that when I look at you, it’s not like a best friend.
When I look at you, everything falls together.
Your smile makes me feel like I could conquer the world.
And when I touch you, my world makes sense.
I think I’ve had feelings for you for years but didn’t understand them.
This isn’t because of Savannah, this isn’t because of anyone else.
I think I just woke up one day and realized when you give me that smile that’s only ever just for me, that I want to keep it tucked into my heart for the entire day.
I love you, like a best friend, and like more, and I hope that’s okay.
I’m sorry if these words aren’t good,” Joey says with a heavier tremor to his voice.
He finally looks up as he says, “But I hope maybe you and I can finally love each other at the same time.”
The room is quiet save for the sound of the pounding rain outside.
Joey looks at me, and I look right back, my world finally reorienting after years out of orbit.
“You love me?” I ask quietly, my hands shaking as I fight to stay standing.
Joey nods slowly, lips curving up slightly.
“I didn’t realize… Not until the possibility of losing you.
I know I… I’ve never been with a man. But I don’t care.
Can I—” Joey pauses and huffs, pushing off the bed to stand in front of me.
He reaches out to touch me but pauses like he always does, to wait for my permission.
And something about that cracks me wide open more than his words ever could. “Can I kiss you?”
Maybe I’m dreaming.
Maybe I drowned at the spring and this is the afterlife I deserve after a life of pain.
“Okay,” I say quietly.
Joey smiles shyly, his hands lifting to cup my bearded cheeks.
He rubs his thumbs under my eyes, and I feel the wetness of my tears that he’s wiping away.
My breath catches painfully when he steps closer, lips an inch away, and just as his lips cover mine, a sharp boom of thunder rents through the humid air.
I gasp against his mouth, and he uses it as an opportunity to deepen the kiss, his mouth moving hard over mine like he’s gotten his first sip of water after years of drought.
This isn’t like that gentle, hesitant kiss Joey gave me in the orange groves when we were teens.
Compared to this, that kiss was a slight breeze on a windless day.
No, this kiss is a hurricane and relief.
“Oh god,” Joey moans into my mouth.