Page 43 of Bobby Green

Knew there was no reason—none at all—why Reg should feel empty and sad after he’d blown his wad in Trey’s mouth. No reason Reg should go to the bathroom to clean up after Trey came in his ass, to sit on the toilet for fifteen minutes, crying soft and silent tears.

THE NEXTmorning Reg got a text from Bobby saying he was on his way over while Trey was still in the shower.

Reg stood, frozen, staring at his phone, wondering if he’d done anything wrong.

His eyes were still gritty and his chest still achy from the crying jag the night before, and he was still pondering, in a restless, distracted way, where those tears had come from.

He summoned a smile, though—Bobby was coming.

They were companions. That was good, right?

Still, when Reg opened the door for him, Bobby all fresh and scrubbed clean, his curly hair wet-combed back from his forehead, his long, sweet face lit up to see Reg, he couldn’t stop the storm cloud feeling in his stomach that something was heinously wrong.

“Hey!” Bobby said brightly. “Was that Trey’s car in front? Is this where he came last night?”

“Yeah,” Reg said, trying not to fidget. “He came over and we hung out.”

Bobby stepped fully into the house, his eyes tracking everything—V sitting on the couch with her breakfast, the small table full of mail that Reg had been sorting when he’d texted, and the empty six-pack sitting next to the fridge, waiting for recycling.

Trey, coming out of the shower in just his jeans, grinning like a man who’d had sex the night before.

“Hung out,” Bobby said dully, and Reg wasn’t imagining it. All the bright and shiny faded in his voice, leaving the air around them acrid with things unsaid.

“Yeah.” Reg tried to smile and failed. “Like, you know, you and Ethan the night before.”

“We shot a scene yesterday,” Bobby said, voice pitchy and on edge. “Wasn’t too much we could do the night before the scene.”

Trey frowned, his heart-shaped, pretty face wrinkling in confusion. “Am I missing something? Bobby, are you mad at me? All the beds were taken, and Reg said I could come stay here—”

“No,” Bobby said, but his voice made Reg shiver. Was that just because Reg had heard it warm and in the dark? “No—this is like… I guess this is just Johnnies, right? You forget. I mean, I fucked Ethan yesterday. No reason Reg shouldn’t be with you last night. You’re right. I just….”

“Sh!” Reg said desperately, looking behind his shoulder to see if V had heard. She hadn’t, still immersed in the morning commentary of bigots, frauds, and thieves.

“Sorry,” Bobby said automatically, but his face looked like it was made of stone and wood. “So sorry. I’ll go get my stuff and finish the bathroom. You won’t have to worry about me in the way anymore.”

“You were never in the way!” Reg said desperately, not sure how to make this right, or if there was anythingtomake right. “I love having you. You don’t have to talk about leaving like you’re going somewhere.”

“I am,” Bobby said, his voice faraway. “I haven’t visited home in a while. I need to go see my mom.”

“And your girlfriend,” Reg said bitterly, surprised at the bloody well of rancor he discovered in his chest. “Don’t forget to visither.”

Bobby’s eyes widened, shocked maybe, because that was almost written policy—you didn’t mention girlfriends, spouses, boyfriends, people who wouldn’t approve of what they did.

People who’d get mad.

“I won’t,” he said with a faint lifting at the corner of his mouth. “Thanks for reminding me, Reg. I really need to start looking for a place for her too.” He turned around, all the promise that had been in his stride petrified to sullen stone.

“Wait!” Reg said, almost desperate. “Bobby… we, uh, Trey and me, we were going to get donuts. Uh, want some?”

Bobby’s chin threatened to crumple, and Trey looked at Reg meaningfully. “Reg, how ’bout you go get donuts for all of us—me and Bobby will—”

“No!” Bobby said almost desperately. “No. I mean, sure. I’ll have donuts. How ’bout you two go get them. I’ll watch V and haul lumber and you don’t have to mind me. I’m hired help. But free. Don’t worry about it. Not a problem. You’ll be in the way while I’m hauling lumber anyway.” He practically ran out of the house then, slamming the door behind him.

Trey turned to Reg with deep regret written on his pretty face. “Oh, Reg. You should have told me—”

“What?” Reg asked, that surprising bitterness not spitting out of his mouth fast enough. “That he comes over at night and holds my hand? That’s all he wants from me. Just… a companion. Not… not a… a… whatever—”

“Boyfriend?” Trey asked sharply.