Page 88 of Full Out Fiend

Fielding

Idon’tevenbothertrying the front door. It’s well past last call, but his car’s still here, along with a few others. That means there’s still hope.

The employee entrance swings open with ease. I stride through the dimly lit back hall, intent on finding one man and—fuck. I don’t even know what I’m trying to accomplish. Too much time has passed. This probably won’t make a difference. What am I even doing here? Is this just a desperate attempt to expunge my conscience of the crushing guilt consuming me?

I can’t breathe. I can’t think or formulate any sort of plan that makes sense.

Cole’s eyes go wide when I stalk up to the side of the bar, confirming that I look as manic as I feel. “Looking for Jake?”

How the hell would he know—

“Your brother called. Told us to expect you.”

I exhale and try to steady my breathing.

“Jake’s next door helping Cory close up,” he explains before he winds up and tosses me a ring of keys.

Without so much as a goodbye, I’m backtracking and swinging open the side door of Clinton’s Family Restaurant.

I don’t come here much anymore.

Actually, that’s a gross understatement.

I avoid this place like the plague.

Sure, the tots are the best in town, and these four walls harbor dozens of bright moments and happy memories for me. But there’s too much history. There’s just so much ofherin this place.

I’m halfway around the bar when I finally look up and spot him. Not just him—them.

Jake’s here, as expected. So is his husband, Cory. They’re plastered against the back bar. Cory’s hands are in Jake’s back pockets while Jake’s got one hand gripping the back of his husband’s head. I’ve clearly walked in on an intimate moment. And they have yet to realize they’re not alone.

I clear my throat to get their attention, watching as Jake slowly turns his head and juts his chin in my direction.

“I—” I have no idea what to say or how to do this. “I need to talk to you,” I try.

Jake holds my gaze for several seconds. I hate to imagine what exactly he sees when he searches my expression. Eventually, he sighs, leans into his husband, and gives him a slow, chaste kiss.

“Let me take care of this alone, baby. I’ll meet you at home,” he murmurs, cupping Cory’s face in a way that makes my insides ache. The connection they share—the intimacy that flows between them—fuck. That’s all I want in life. And maybe I’ve found it. I shudder at the thought of losing her and missing out on a lifetime of that, all because I made horrifically shitty choices in the name of love.

Cory looks over Jake’s shoulder and eyes me warily. He and Tori had been friends for years before I came into her life. He has every reason to loathe me. Taking time with his coat, he darts a look at Jake, then back to me before he eventually walks out from behind the bar and heads out the side entrance.

As soon as the door clicks closed, I speak.

“I didn’t know. I didn’t fucking remember anything about that night. Everything leading up to it—everything that went down later—I knew. But that actual night—fuck. Dempsey told me everything just now. I didn’t fucking know.”

I grip the edge of the bar—a place where I used to sit and watch her work. Where Jake and I grew close, our friendship turning into a brotherhood. I hold tight to the bar where I spent as much of my free time as possible during a time when life really was good. Before I blew it to bits and fucked up everything.

“I’m not here looking for pity. I just—I just needed you to know that I didn’t know, but now that I do, I’ll never stop regretting what I did.”

He walks over to where I’m standing, jutting his chin toward a barstool in clear invitation.

“Would it be funny if I offered you a shot of tequila?”

His delivery is flat, but he cocks an eyebrow when I lift my head to meet his gaze. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and hoist myself onto the stool, accepting his unspoken invitation. Head in my hands, I fight the urge to run out the door and never look back.

The irony is that even if I wanted to run, I have no place to go. Unless I actually do want to seek solace in the bottom of a bottle, there’s no way to escape this situation because I can’t escape myself.

Jake fills two cups with ice and pours us each a water. I take a long sip before sitting up straight. If he’s giving me the time of day, I’m going to make the most of it.