Page 7 of Only You

SIX

“Fuck!” I pull my hand back out of the engine I was working on and not really paying attention to, noticing the slight gash on my finger. It’s not too bad, but I walk over to the sink to try to clean it up anyway.

Kellan is by my side pretty quickly, assessing the damage. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Stupid mistake, but I’m fine.”

I get my hand as clean as I can, grab a bandage, and wrap my finger before going back over to the car again, but Kellan is hot on my heels. “You seem... tense.”

He says this carefully, and I chuckle, going back to work. “That’s one way to put it. I’m fine.”

“Yeah?” He looks at me, amused. Crossing his arms and just staring at me. “Do you need to get laid, Tatum?” He’s mocking me—playfully, of course—a small grin on his face.

“You offering? I don’t think your man would appreciate that very much.” I know he’s just throwing back my normal suggestion when he gets pissy, but I still feel the need to skirt around the issue.

“Don’t be an asshole,” he says, his mouth in a firm, unamused line.

“I don’t need to get laid.”

“That’s a first,” he says, and I know he’s really studying me now. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just taking a break from hookups for a bit.” I can’t look at him, afraid my face would give too much away. I can imagine he’s wearing a shocked expression though, and I have to be honest—the word hookup feels a little wrong leaving my lips.

I don’t want to think about hookups right now. Thanks to Remy and his admission yesterday.

I’m not an asshole—I swear. I really don’t try to assume people’s sexualities. I may have had an inkling about him being gay, so I can’t say I was completely surprised when he said he was. The thing that really surprised me though was him saying he didn’t date.

Ever.

Like it was final, and nothing was going to change that.

His eyes pleading with me not to push it.

Not to ask any questions about it. But so many questions formed in my head.

Does he not date because of what happened to him?

Does he not feel worthy of love? Or a relationship?

It’s a lot to assume, but one thing I always thought Remy would have was love.

He deserves it. All of it. Remy deserves the whole world.

Now that I’ve reconnected with him—now that I know adult Remy and have been near him—I know that without a doubt.

I could see it from the very beginning though.

He was special. If he doesn’t think he’s worthy of love for some reason—I need him to know he is.

It’s becoming a real problem for me. I can’t stop thinking about it, and even I know I can’t just blurt that out to him—but I want to.

Not to mention thinking about him hooking up with some random stranger last night—of him being used, it was too much for me to handle.

I’m not judging him. Not at all. I’ve been a player since I learned how awesome orgasms with another person could be.

But for Remy—I just get the feeling it’s necessity, not a want.

The hookup part. That maybe he wants more but doesn’t think he deserves it, or something is holding him back.

And that just doesn’t sit right with me.

“For how long?” Kellan’s question brings me back to the conversation.

I sigh. “Does it really matter?”

“It does. It’s one of your favorite pastimes.” He leans against the car I’m working on, clearly not letting this go. “Look, I know you kind of put your life on hold for me and the kids...”

I stop what I’m doing and turn my head to look at him. “I’d do it again.”

“I know you would. But that doesn’t mean your life has to stay on hold.” I don’t miss the look of guilt on his face. “We’re good now. I think you need to get back out there.”

“Says the guy who loved to give me shit about my endless hookups,” I say with a teasing lilt.

I used sex a lot—I’m not going to lie—when I needed a distraction.

When I was stressed. When I wanted an escape and couldn’t go to alcohol.

I definitely used it. I wouldn’t say I’m a sex addict.

I didn’t really crave the act itself, per se—it was more using it as something to do to pass time until my other cravings subsided.

Fucked up. Yes.

But it worked for me. And it didn’t lead me down a destructive path. I always made sure my partners knew the deal. Except Mila. I tried to do the whole relationship thing with her and wound up kissing her best friend back when she kissed me when we were hanging out.

Okay, maybe I am a total asshole.

Boundaries are good, and I fucked up. I hurt her and realized relationships probably aren’t for me. And yeah, I’m a hypocrite too because I know that’s what Remy said—that he doesn’t date, and I can’t seem to settle that in my brain. I can’t make it make sense.

Kellan actually flinches, like he feels guilty for giving me shit, and I don’t like that at all. “I think the hookup thing was getting old for me, even before you got that call about the kids,” I admit.

He cocks his head to the side, like he didn’t expect that, and I guess that makes sense. I played it up pretty hard that I was still having a good time, but when Mila called me a whole host of names I deserved and said I was dead inside—something changed for me.

I haven’t slept with anyone else since then.

“Really?”

I nod, and before he can ask anything else, I say, “I was actually just thinking about Remy.”

“Remy?” His eyes widen, and I can tell he’s far too intrigued by the subject change. “What about Remy?”

Someone else putting their fucking hands on Remy .

I think it to myself but manage to keep from saying that part out loud.

“He’s gay.” Kellan looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, clearly trying to figure out where I’m going with this.

Where the hell am I going with this? “I mean... shit. Am I allowed to tell you that? He said he’s out and proud, but did I just out him? ”

“I mean, if he’s out... no?” he says, his lips quirking in amusement, and I resist the urge to flip him off.

“Okay, well... he’s gay, and yesterday, I asked if he wanted to hang out again, and he said he was busy... meeting some guy for a hookup.”

“O—kay.” He’s trying to tread carefully. I can tell he’s thinking over his words—a testament to his relationship with Phillip, no doubt. “And that bothers you, why?”

“It’s dangerous.”

He cocks his head to the side, studying me. “Why? Because he’s on the smaller side? You know anything can happen to anyone, right?”

I glare at him. “Yeah. I know that, and no, it’s not his size.

” Though I could squish him like a bug without any effort whatsoever.

I get lost for a moment, thinking about the difference in our sizes.

He’s easily six inches shorter than me, and I have at least fifty pounds of muscle on him, but I’d still say he’s average height and size.

“I think Remy can hold his own,” Kellan states, and again, I glare at him.

“Of course he can. He’s one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.” And I mean that, but there’s still this part of me that can’t stop obsessing about him meeting a stranger last night. “I just don’t like it.”

I start to fidget anxiously as he studies me. “Why?”

I huff and start to work on the engine again, not able to focus on Kellan and his damn assessing eyes. “Because Remy is better than that. He deserves a husband, not a hookup.”

“Has he said he wants a husband?” I don’t like his serious tone. It makes me itchy. “Some people are just fine with hookups. They lead perfectly happy lives with hooking up, actually.”

“Not him.”

“Do you want it to be with you?”

I nearly hit my head on the hood of the car when I whip around so fast to look directly at Kellan, just barely managing to miss another injury. “What? I’m not gay.”

He rolls his eyes at me now, not as amused. “You know there’re lots of ways to identify. I don’t think I’m gay either—I think if anything, I’m probably demisexual.”

I frown at that—not because I care one way or another how he identifies as long as he’s happy, but because I don’t know what that even means. “What is that?” I ask, knowing I’m not really the most educated guy, but Kellan has never judged me, and I don’t think he will now either.

Finally, he seems to soften a little. “It means I just need a really strong connection with someone to feel attraction.”

“But you were with plenty of people before Phillip.” I hope I don’t sound like I’m accusing him of being a liar—I just want to understand.

The last year has been pretty eye-opening for me.

My best friend falling in love with a guy.

Meeting all the Rhodes kids and learning to listen a hell of a lot more. Remy showing back up in my life...

It’s been a lot.

Now it’s his turn to start fidgeting and looking uncomfortable. “Not really. It always felt forced—like I was playing a part—but then I met Phillip, and everything sort of clicked into place for me.”

I try to process that, but it’s hard for me to wrap my head around.

“I enjoy the hell out of women. Hooking up. It’s never forced,” I say honestly.

“I can’t really imagine being with another guy,” I admit carefully, like maybe he’ll get upset with me.

I don’t want him to think I’m judging him for it.

I think it’s fucking awesome that he’s in love with Phillip.

That they have something really special.

“So if things were different and you were attracted to Remy—would you want to be with him?”

I think about that, and I know without a doubt this is a conversation I couldn’t have with anyone else on the planet. But I know Kellan won’t judge me. “No,” I say honestly, a lump forming in my throat. “He’s too good.”

Kellan’s heavy hand lands on my shoulder, and his face is deadly serious. “Too good for you?”

I want to look away, but I don’t. My shoulders drop, though, because we both know that’s exactly what I mean.

“You deserve good too. You have to know that. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met.”

“I’ve hurt him. He’s good, really damn good. He always has been, but I know he’s holding back with me because of how badly I hurt him. I should just walk away, Kellan, but I can’t.”

“Don’t,” he says it so effortlessly. “Don’t run away from him.

If all this is, is friendship that’s fine.

” I want to argue with that cryptic statement, but he goes on before I can.

“If it’s more than that, then that’s fine too.

” Again, I open my mouth for rebuttal, but he plows ahead.

“But don’t run. I think there’s a reason he made his way back into your life and vice versa.

I think you need to spend more time with him.

Forgive yourself for when you were a kid . ”

“He was a kid too.”

“Yeah, and it sounds like he pushed you away.”

“For good reason,” I say defensively, my stomach clenching, thinking about how hard I pushed him to tell me everything. To let me fix it for him—like it was something I could actually fix. All I did was cause him more pain.

He sighs deeply at that, his hand still on my shoulder. “Just give it a chance, Tatum.”

He drops his hand and walks away, leaving me with that final sentence that settles deep inside my belly.

And it sits there throughout the rest of the day, and it’s still there when I arrive at Remy’s house.

Still in the back of my mind, I don’t know if I can do this.

Every instinct I have is shouting at me to stay away from him—that I may do so much more harm than good being around him again—but I can’t seem to listen.

I can’t stay away.

Instead, I get out of my truck and walk up to the front door, a little hop in my step, just thinking about getting to see Remy.

And when he opens the door, his smile bright and beautiful—with that tiny hint of pain trying to hide away in his eyes, I know I’m not going to.