Page 9 of Candy Hearts, Vol. 2

CHAPTER 9

KENNETH

Cody Barratt: You really spent the holidays alone?

Me: I did.

Cody Barratt: You should’ve come home with me.

Cody Barratt: I mean, Dad’s your bestie.

Cody Barratt: He’s gonna be pissed when I tell him you worked the whole time.

Me: I’m a grown man. I can work over Christmas and New Year’s if I want to. Which I did.

I set my phone down on my desk with a sigh. The truth is, where I usually would have found the solitude and quiet of having the office to myself peaceful, this past holiday…I did not. I was productive, but not enough to justify shutting myself off from the world.

I was lonely.

The feeling has become more and more pronounced since I’ve started hanging out with Cody on Friday nights to watch Eldertide . I live for my Friday nights now. And these weeks spent waiting for the show’s hiatus to end are killing me, especially when every marketing campaign I’ve signed off on lately has been focused on happy couples of every race and gender combination imaginable.

Kill. Me. Now.

No, seriously. If I have to hear one more Valentine’s Day pitch, I’m jumping out of my office window.

This has to be some kind of midlife crisis. I was perfectly happy with nearly anonymous Grindr hookups until just recently. And now…now I’d rather spend my Friday nights watching a nerdy TV show instead of being balls deep inside some young, pretty thing.

You could have both, a tempting voice inside my head tells me as I attempt to scroll through the emails on my laptop. Cody thinks you’re a silver fox.

And great . Now I’m talking to myself.

Maybe this is some kind of midlife crisis.

My phone vibrates on the desk, the screen lighting up with the notification of a new message. Despite willing myself to have some semblance of self-control, I reach for it within seconds.

Cody Barratt: You’re no fun. *pouts*

I snort and begin typing my rebuttal, but another message comes through.

Cody Barratt: It sucks that Eldertide isn’t on for another two weeks.

Deleting everything I’d half-typed, I reply, ‘Yeah. But we can still hang out this Friday if you want to.’

I watch the animated ellipsis as Cody types his response. It starts. It disappears. It starts again. The three little circles keep appearing and disappearing from my screen.

Finally, a reply comes through.

Cody Barratt: I’d like that.

I blink at the screen, then frown. It took him all that time to write that ? Then again, he is at work. It’s possible he actually stopped chatting to do his job. Like I should be right now.

Me: Cool. My place? Usual time?

Cody Barratt: Works for me.

Our first non-TV-related hangout feels a bit stilted. It could be because we’re out of routine, but I hate that we’re back to being awkward around each other again. Cody has become a friend —a close friend— and I don’t want to lose the ground we’ve made just because we’ve spent some time apart. I also don’t want to think that maybe the only thing we have in common is Eldertide, because that would be depressing.

“So” —I try to break the weird tension as I hand him a beer and drop down on the couch beside him— “how’s work been this week?”

He scrunches up his nose and I hold up my hand to stall his reply. “Yeah, yeah, I heard it, too. You don’t need to tell me I sound like Mike.”

“Yeah, what’s with that?” he teases, and some of the weirdness seems to fade away as he laughs and waves his hand in the air. “I’m guessing it’s a ‘successful older guy’ thing. But I’ll humor you anyway.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” His sass is delivered with a cheeky grin and he sips his beer, finishing his mouthful with a little hiss before he squints down at the label. “Craft stuff. I should’ve guessed. Very bougie.”

“I thought you were humoring me.”

With an eyeroll, he finally relaxes back against the couch and shrugs. “It’s been a shit show trying to catch up on two weeks of emails and shit since the office was closed for the holidays. And they hired this new guy —Brad— and he’s…” Cody’s sentence tapers off into nowhere and he uses his free hand to pick at the label on his bottle.

“He’s…?” I prompt. “A dick? Useless?”

“…kinda hot, actually.”

Cody’s words make my gut twist, and I don’t want to acknowledge why.

I’m not allowed to be jealous when I’m the one who told him that I won’t ever act on our mutual attraction.

But I still don’t like hearing him call another man hot.

It’s okay when it’s an actor on a TV show we’re watching together, but when it’s a real life person? Someone he sees on a daily basis? I don’t like hearing it.

I need to suck it up and be a supportive friend, though.

“Yeah?” I ask, forcing a salacious smile which I know doesn’t quite sit right. I turn sideways in my seat, bringing my knee up onto the spare space between us. Cocking my head, I ask, “You gonna ask him out?”

“Me?” Cody laughs and shakes his head. “Sure. And I’ll march into my boss’s office and ask for a raise and a paid six-week vacation while I’m at it.”

“What’s so ridiculous about you asking a guy out?”

“Uh, have you met me, Ken?” I really don’t like his self-deprecating tone. “I’m awkward and shy and…just weird when I’m into someone. I mean, you saw me falling over myself the morning after you brought me back here. And Brad is…well, he’s tall, and dark, and handsome. He gives Henry Cavill vibes, y’know? And there’s no way a guy like that is gonna go for a twenty-six-year-old virgin like me.”

There’s a split second before his words register. Before I feel my jaw dropping at the same time as his pretty sea-colored eyes widen with horror.

“Shit,” he exhales, his freckled cheeks turning pink. “Shit. Fuck. Don’t…God, can you forget I said that?” He sets his beer down on the coffee table and leans over his knees, covering his face with his hands. “Can you forget, like, all of it?”

“Cody, sweetheart, there’s nothing wrong with?—”

“Nope. Nuh-uh. Don’t repeat it. It’s so pathetic.”

I bristle. “It’s not pathetic. You’re not pathetic. In fact?—”

“I swear, if you’re going to say something lame like” —he puts on a deep, mocking voice— “ it’s admirable or I wish I hadn’t spent my prime years fucking a whole bunch of hot men , I’ll scream.”

Despite how serious the conversation is, it’s a struggle not to laugh. My face contorts with the effort, my lips pulling together and my cheeks hollowing into the good old ‘duck face’ impression.

Cody scowls at me and I lose it.

Through laughter, I attempt to explain, “I’m sorry, but…. who would say that last one? Seriously?”

At this point, he’s also fighting against a smile. I can see his lips twitching with the effort to maintain his composure.

“And, for the record, I wasn’t going to say anything like either one of your stupid impressions. I was going to say that it’s hot that you’re a virgin.”

He groans and shuts his eyes. “It’s not.”

“It is ,” I insist, reaching out to squeeze his knee. “There’s something sexy about knowing you’re the first person to pleasure?—”

“Oh, God. Ken. Stop talking.” His pleas are issued with the same kind of tone I’ve heard him use with his parents. But instead of serving as a reminder that it would be a Very Bad Idea TM to act on any interest I might have in him as a single gay man, I can only find it adorable.

That has to be the reason I lose all sense of reason when I say, “Fine. But if being a virgin is what’s making you feel awkward and self-conscious, let me help with that.”