Page 12 of Fanboy in the Falls (Devon Falls #3)

Hey Google: How do you know if you’re bi? —Colin Templegate

I’m not exactly sure how I end up at Luis’ Cafe and Bar.

All I know is that after I see Tom and Gabe kissing on the porch outside of Gabe’s party, I find myself in my Porsche.

Driving. Maybe it’s because I’m not sure where the hell else to go.

The majority of the people I know in this area are at that party, and there’s no way I’m going back inside there right now.

It’s way the fuck too confusing in there.

Watching Tom kiss Gabe made one thing way too damn clear: I want to kiss Gabe.

And I’ve never wanted to kiss another human before in my entire fucking life the way I wanted to kiss him just now.

Hell, I watched an entire orgy unfold the night I won the Monaco Grand Prix and didn’t have a single urge to even take off an article of clothing all night.

But I watched Gabe Gomez make out with my best friend, and I had that same instinct I used to have right before I made an impossible pass on the track: the urge to go for what I wanted. And what I wanted was to see what Gabe Gomez’s lips would feel like against mine.

So maybe I’m not straight after all, and I’m definitely one hell of a terrible best friend.

“What the fuck,” I whisper to myself, as I do a few circles around Devon Falls and try to get my thoughts in some semblance of order.

Driving used to be the one thing that could give me a guaranteed feeling of calm and relief, and even after I left racing I’d still use driving as my favorite “self-care tool,” as my therapist likes to call it.

But tonight, driving isn’t helping much. Visions of Gabe keep swirling in my mind, doing cartwheels on top of each other. Eventually I give up on driving and end up parking at the town square.

It’s dark outside now, but the lights that dot each section of the Devon Falls square keep it illuminated well enough that I can see the fucking ridiculous statue at the center of it.

I’m told it was supposed to be a statue of kids playing with leaves and that it was put up to celebrate the leaf festival.

Somehow it ended up looking like a total joke instead.

I frown at the statue. Then I stare at it for a long moment. “So,” I finally ask it. “How’d you come out looking exactly like a poop emoji?”

The thing doesn’t answer. But I know I’m not the only one who sees the resemblance. Tom told me the last time he posted a picture of it that the post went viral in about five minutes.

I shake my head. “Man, do I feel for your artist,” I tell the statue. “Imagine how much time they put into designing and creating you. Maybe they thought you were their life’s work. And now all that energy, all that focus, is nothing more than an internet laugh.”

Still no answer.

I have a sudden, strong urge to get as far away as I can from the thing, so I start walking. And that’s when I find myself at Luis’.

What the hell, I figure. Alcohol isn’t exactly my vice of choice, because vices have never really been my thing. But I wouldn’t mind a beer or a glass of wine right now.

The bells above the door jangle as I enter, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see that the place is mostly empty.

Just some teenagers in the back goofing off on their phones and drinking milkshakes, and over in the corner I see the two firefighters who did the inn’s fire inspection.

They’re sitting with a smaller guy I remember seeing that day too.

The three of them are all in a relationship together, Tom said.

I shake my head and walk toward the bar, because there’s another mindfuck I can’t quite wrap my brain around. Three people in a relationship together? Is that really a thing that can happen? It’s not something I’ve seen all that much of, actually, and I’ve literally been all around the world.

“Hey, Colin.” Luis greets me cheerfully, but his expression quickly shifts to a frown. “Isn’t there a party at the winery right now? I dropped off like ten tons of empanadas there earlier.”

I gulp down the blob of who-the-hell-knows-what in my throat. “Still going on.” I shrug. “I just needed… a quick escape, I guess.”

He smiles. “I get that. Want something?”

I order a craft beer made with maple syrup because it’s not like this evening can get any weirder. Luis pours while I close my eyes against those swirling thoughts. That picture I can’t get out of my head.

Gabe’s hand, soft and light, against Tom’s arm. His hair messy, his eyes wide as he touched his lips to Tom’s.

Part of me wishes I’d picked any other moment to take a walk around the winery and get some space from the party crowd. The other part? The other part knows that I didn’t move when I saw them. I stayed in place. I stayed in place and I watched.

And then I couldn’t stop watching. I couldn’t stop watching Gabe make out with my best friend.

“Hey there, famous new buddy.” I look up as a cheerful voice appears out of nowhere. The blond firefighter, Doug, has landed next to me on a stool. “Luis, can I grab the check whenever you get a chance?” he asks.

“No problem.” Luis sets my beer on the counter. “Just let me get food out to those kids.” He hustles off, and I’m left sitting alone with Doug. Great. Because small talk is exactly what I need right now.

“Good beer,” Doug says. “You like that one?”

“I haven’t tried it yet.” I frown and study the beer.

Doug nods. “I was super skeptical, darn it. I mean, who the heck puts maple syrup in beer? But it turns out those brewers have a gosh darn good thing going. Made me glad I decided to try something new.”

I’m getting the impression this guy doesn’t swear much. I shrug. “Guess we’ll see. New things aren’t usually for me.”

Doug nods and turns all the way on his stool to look at me. “Why’s that?” he asks.

I could tell him that’s none of his business.

He’s a stranger, and I don’t talk to strangers.

I barely talk to anyone since I retired, actually.

But then I look over at his booth, at his two boyfriends, who are laughing and holding hands across the table, and I can’t help but ask the one question that’s on my mind.

“How’s that work?” I blurt out. “All three of you? Together?” I immediately realize what a fucking asshole I just sounded like. “Shit, I’m sorry. I—”

But Doug just laughs jovially. “You’re not the first person to wonder.” He shrugs. “Heck, I couldn’t figure it out when things first started. I thought I was only interested in women most of my life. Next thing I know, I’m falling for my best friend and some guy we both just met.”

I nearly choke on my sip of beer. “I’m sorry?”

Doug shrugs. “I know. Sounds wild, doesn’t it?

Turns out Zeke over there,” he says as he gestures to the other firefighter from the inspection, “had feelings for me for years. Never said anything.” He shakes his head.

“I mean, I miss a lot of things, but I still can’t believe I missed all that.

I found out, and it opened up a whole mess of feelings. ”

Well. I guess that’s one thing I’ve got going for me. I may be a hot damn mess where Gabe’s concerned, but at least Tom’s never given any indication that he’s interested in me.

I swirl my beer in its glass. “How’d he get up the courage to tell you?” I realize something else. “And how’d that work with the other guy getting involved?”

“It’s a whole story.” Doug laughs again.

“And as far as Zeke telling me goes…” He looks over at the booth where his two guys are sitting and smiles wistfully.

“He says he’d been living a half-life for a long time, not telling anyone he was bi.

And Max pushed him to see a bigger world, a world where he could finally be all the way himself.

See what living all the way really felt like.

” Doug turns back to look at me. He shrugs.

“Max changed us,” he finally says. “Just made me see things I’d never seen before, I guess.

Things that were buried down some place I didn’t know about. ”

Luis comes back with Doug’s check, and he and Luis start discussing some fire code Luis has a question about while Doug signs it. I just sit there, staring at my beer and swirling.

And then I pull out my phone, because it feels like it might be time to consult Google on some things.

Hey Google: How do you know if you’re bi? Especially if you’re not attracted to people all that often?

And wow, does that search bring up a whole lot of terms.

Terms like pansexual and demisexual and demiromantic and gray asexual start appearing on my screen.

They’re all terms I’ve heard before, except maybe the gray one, but I never spent too much time thinking about them very hard.

My life’s always been pretty straightforward when it came to relationships.

First I was a guy who dated girls once in a while, but not very often.

Then I was an open wheel racing driver. Then I was… well, nothing.

Now, for the first time, I find myself searching through all these categories and trying to find the terms that fit best. Because straight doesn’t feel like it fits anymore, but I’m not sure what does, exactly.

I haven’t been sure about much since the day almost a year ago when Gabe Gomez drunkenly fell across my lap.

I need to drive. I need to get back to the Porsche and drive and drive and drive until my brain stops going in circles. “Thanks, Doug,” I tell him as I throw a fifty on the counter and head toward the door.

“Don’t you want change?” Luis calls out.

“Keep it or donate it to the fire department!” I answer. Because car. I’ve got to get to the car.

I’m back at the edge of the town center when I spot Tom and Gabe both standing next to Tom’s Jeep, which is parked next to my Porsche. Tom’s staring down at his phone, and Gabe’s looking around him wildly. “Colin!” he calls out when he sees me.

Tom looks up, and I watch his shoulders drop as he lets out a long sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank goodness, bestie,” he says as I reach the two of them.

“You haven’t disappeared like that since the night Sam told us everything about his new relationship with Malachai.

” He shakes his finger at me. “You promised me you’d never leave me like that again! ”

I grimace. “Oh yeah. Shit.” Sometimes I forget just how fucking much Tom has worried about me since Christian died, and I really put him through the ringer that day I took off.

I know he and Sam panicked when they couldn’t find me right away.

I hope I didn’t just re-traumatize my best friend or something.

“That was a dick move,” I blurt out. “Leaving like that tonight. I should have told you I was just going for a drive.”

Tom raises his chin haughtily. “You certainly should have. Luckily, this town is all of three square miles, so it didn’t take us long to find the Porsche.”

Gabe lets out a laugh that sounds more like a snort. “Sorry!” he says. “That probably wasn’t supposed to be funny, huh?”

“Anything to make you smile, little one.” Tom beams at him, and Gabe’s face goes pink. Then Tom frowns and takes a step closer to me. “Listen,” he says. “I have to ask—you saw me and Gabe together on the porch tonight, didn’t you? Is that why you left?”

Gabe stands quietly behind him, pushing at a rock with the toe of his sneaker.

Damn it. I’ve probably just ruined his whole night with my stupid selfishness.

It’s his birthday, for crying out loud. And it’s pretty clear he likes Tom as much as Tom likes him; I never should have interrupted them on the porch. I swallow.

I know what I should probably do here. I should walk away. Tell neither of them anything about what I’ve been thinking and feeling and fucking googling. I should let my best friend and sweet Gabe have whatever they’re going to have together.

But I can’t get Doug’s words out of my head. Half-life. Half-life.

That’s what I’ve been living since Christian died, when I walked away from my entire life’s purpose.

I know that. I’ve always known that. I just…

I couldn’t get back in that damn car again.

It’s like my whole life’s been separated into before Christian drowned and after Christian drowned.

One moment the world seemed simple and straightforward: drive car.

Win races. Collect prizes. Repeat. The next minute, everything about that existence seemed stupid.

Pointless, somehow. Did I even really like racing, or just winning?

What was I even racing toward? An end like Christian, who died alone in a pool, all for a good time at a party filled with people he barely knew?

I couldn’t fully explain to my team or friends why I left my sport.

I mean, I couldn’t even explain it to myself.

All I know is that ever since then, I’ve been chasing more.

More than what I had before Christian left this world.

But more hasn’t seemed to be out there. Just wineries and reno projects and maybe, if I’m lucky, a decent glass of wine or an empanada.

Is more in front of me right now? More than the half-life I’ve been living? Or is this the moment where I’m supposed to walk away and look for that “more” somewhere else?

But Zeke didn’t walk away. And look at him and his boyfriends now. All he had to do was say some words out loud.

I wonder what Christian would do right now—but only for a split second.

That’s how long it takes me to figure out the answer.

My brother never stepped back from anything that mattered to him.

He went for everything he wanted with full force.

And he never struggled to say the hardest things out loud.

I swallow, and then I open up my fucking mouth.

“Here’s the thing,” I say. “And it’s probably the wrong thing to say, but I’m going to say it anyway. I think I might not be straight.” Gabe’s eyes widen slightly, and Tom’s eyebrows go up.

“Excuse me?” He whispers.

I shrug. “And I’ve never been attracted to people a whole lot.

I’m not sure what that means exactly. Maybe I’m gray asexual or demisexual or something, too?

” I shake my head. “Maybe. I mean, Google said maybe. But that’s not the point.

” I’m rambling now, and I know it. Time to get to the point, or I’m never going to say what I need to say right now.

I take a deep breath. “Here’s the thing. When I saw Tom kissing you, Gabe…” I shrug again. “What the hell; I’ll just say it. I saw that, and I realized. I realized that I want to kiss you too.”

For a long minute, the three of us stand there in total silence. And I’ve got to say: it feels like the same silence that hangs in the air right after you take a car right into the wall.