Page 43 of Hush

“What?” Mike reared back, scowling. “Kris, fuck off. He’s not. He’s not into men.”

“He’s not into men?” Kris’s chin jutted forward, like he was hammering nails. He counted off the evidence on his perfect fingers, slapping them against Mike’s phone. “He was at the Mall today. He hung out with all of us and never batted an eye. He came to a gay bar and was pretty chill about it. He was enamored with you. One hundred percent focused on you, until your littleGrindMemessage wrecked him.”

“Doesn’t matter! He’s not into dudes!”

Kris spun, walking away from Mike, down the block as he cursed and muttered under his breath, moving smoothly from Spanish to English and back again.

“I have a file on him that’s four inches thick, Kris. Background investigations from every government agency there is, going back to when he was a toddler in kindergarten. There’s nothing in there, not a single thing, about him being gay, or bi, or ever having anything to do with a man.”

“I’m telling you. He likes men. He likesyou.”

Mike pushed himself to his feet and trudged up the entrance to his building. “He doesn’t.”

“Why are you fighting about this? Why don’t you just make a move and know for sure? I guarantee you he’ll be open to it.” Kris followed him, his heels clacking with every step.

Mike tore open the door, the glass rattling as it shook in his grasp. “It’s not that easy,” he growled. “He’s a judge. I can be friendly with him, but anything else is… It’s never been done. A judge slumming with a marshal?” He shook his head. “Judges are untouchable. They’re up there in the ivory tower. I can’t go near him.” He stomped up the steps to his apartment, Kris on his heels.

“These sound like excuses. You going to let something get in the way of what you want?”

“I never get what I want.” Mike glared as he shoved his key in his lock. “You know that. Jesus, even you shot me down.”

“You didn’t really want me.”

Mike snorted and stormed into his home.

“You wanted a warm body to hide your heart in and a teddy bear to hold you through the night, Mike. That’s not a relationship. That’s you running away. I didn’t want to be another man who left you because you were only half-real.” Kris slammed the door shut behind him.

Finally, after all the years they’d been friends, they were having the fight they needed to have. Mike’s blood boiled as he stared at the partially rebuilt kitchen he’d stalled out on. The frame of cabinets hung on his wall, bare wood that looked like a tree’s skeleton.

“Half-real?” Everything in him shook, his hands, his voice, his vision. “How fuckingdareyou—”

“You’re too scared to open yourself up! You attract the flakes and the fuckboys because that’s all you show to the world! You play the game, being what they all want you to be. Mr. Muscle. Mr. Meathead, Mr. Masc. But you hide yourself, Mike, and you wonder why they end up not liking you when you try to open up later. They don’t want the real you, and they never did! They only want the fake guy you throw out there!”

“And who areyouto talk, huh?” Mike roared. “You eat men alive and kick them to the curb before they catch their breath! Who of us is actually scared of being real?”

Kris’s eyes narrowed, going cold, deadly sharp. “I loved a man more deeply than you willeverknow. I willneverfind another love as deep, as intense as what we had.Never,” he hissed. “And I neverwantto. I buried my heart with him, and he will keep it.”

Mike swallowed.

Sighing, Kris rested his hand on his forehead and closed his eyes. He marched to Mike’s couch and flopped down, sagging against the cushions. “You’re different with Tom,” he said softly. The tension in Mike’s tiny home vanished, fizzling out of the air. “You aren’t putting on a show with him. You are just you.”

“He’s a great guy,” Mike said softly. “And way, way out of my league.”

“You’re right about that.” Kris snorted. “He’s far more intelligent than you are, witty, kind, sweet, gentle, so, so handsome…” Kris counted off Tom’s features, flaring out his fingers. “Running down your list of what your Prince Charming needs to be like, he seems to fit all the boxes.”

“’Cept he’s not into dick.”

Kris threw his head back against the cushions, glaring at him upside down. “Do you just not want an older man? He’s maybe ten years older than you?”

“Nine years older.”

“Is it the age? You freaking out about a little silver? You’ve chased the twinks for years. Is he just not getting you going?”

Mike fidgeted. “He’s… he’s really hot,” he said, like he was admitting he’d murdered twelve people. “I always wondered why he was single. He could have anyone he wants.”

“He wantsyou.”

“Stop, Kris.Stop. Please. He’s not like that. I promise you. He’s not. These background checks… you can’t hide from them. Everything comes out.Everything.” He shook his head and kicked a piece of wood, sending it spinning into the bare concrete wall of his kitchen. “Don’t give me false hope. You think I don’t know he’severythingI want? This fuckingsucks.”