Page 80 of Love and History

I hadn’t felt this fucking hopeless in a while.

“Can I just—can I hold you?” I whispered.

He sniffed and nodded. “Y-yes…okay.”

He curled into my arms like he belonged there. And I held him like I’d never let him go.

When I woke up, he was gone.

* * *

I could tellfrom the light streaking through the window that it was early…sometime after dawn. I was supposed to be at the office in a couple of hours, and I dreaded the idea of commuting across town in traffic to schmooze with Tag Rossman in the hopes of ingratiating myself. I could convince myself my reluctance to get my ass in gear had something to do with being off for so long. But it was probably time to confront a few stark truths.

Truth number one, selling my soul for Rossman and Engle was not the way to honor my dad.

I composed a carefully worded email thanking the firm for the opportunity and the invaluable learning experience, and regretfully informed Rossman that I wouldn’t be continuing in his employ. Don’t worry, it sounded better than that. Mature, thoughtful, and gracious. I figured it was wiser than telling him I thought he was a fuckhead with an inflated sense of importance and the moral compass of a gnat.

I pushed Send, then ventured downstairs…and ran into Noah.

“Good morning,” he greeted me cheerily.

“Hey.” I poured myself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter. “I thought everyone was at work.”

“I don’t work on Mondays. Hair stylist hours.” He met me at the coffee machine and topped off his mug. “I wanted to start organizing things here a bit.”

“Oh. Right. Um…” I raked my hand through my hair and gave a sheepish smile. “I’ll clear out my closet today. I can move some clothes and books to Cole’s old room for now. I was going to do the big move in one fell swoop…if that’s cool.”

“Of course. Technically, you have till the end of the month. So don’t worry.”

“No, it’ll be a good project for me. I need to stay busy.”

Noah sipped his coffee thoughtfully. “Do what you need to do, Ezra. There’s no hurry. This is a big place. There will always be room for you here.”

He changed the subject before I could ask for clarification. Something in his tone made me think he knew what had gone down with Holden and me. Which made sense. Tommy took Holden home. He probably told Noah about us. And yet Noah told me I could stay. I couldn’t stay. I’d signed a lease on a new place. Oh, yeah…and I’d quit my job. I couldn’t afford to rent two places at once even if that was an option. And it wasn’t.

Truth number two, I had to move. I didn’t want to, but I’d made a commitment and time was ticking.

I found a few cardboard boxes in the garage and got to work, packing books and photos, and clearing out my closet, then dragging them into Cole’s empty room. I was mostly done by three o’clock. I was going to need some help moving my bed, dresser, and desk. I doubted Blake or Cole would be available till next weekend.

I sent a group text, got a thumbs-up from Cole, and a phone call from Blake.

“Hey, man. What’s going on over there? Asher’s worried about Holden, and Tommy isn’t talking. I’m going to personally kick your ass if you did something to—”

“I didn’t. I mean…I did, but it’s not what you think.” I held my cell to my ear as I lowered the garage door.

“Ezra…”

Truth number three, it was time to come out.

“Look, I have something to say. Just listen, okay?” I waited for his grunt of acknowledgment, then blurted, “I’m bi. I wish I’d come out when you did. It might have made it easier. But you needed your moment, and I wasn’t ready. I’m not necessarily ready now, but it’s the truth and I thought you should know. That’s all.”

Silence.

“Are you fucking with me?”

I rolled my eyes. “No, I’m not fucking with you, Blakey. I’m being honest.”

More silence.