Page 12

CHAPTER 11

THE MOST REAL AND HONEST THING

TOMMY

Tommy stretched, a yawn cracking his jaw as he blinked at the early morning light peeking through the curtains in Chuck’s living room.

He was still in his clothes from last night, sprawled out on the couch. Sitting up, he rubbed his hands over his face and took stock of how he was feeling. Hungover? Shit. A headache throbbed behind his temple, and his stomach didn’t feel great.

He thought back on the previous night: singing, dancing, shots for David, a car ride home, and then…kissing.

Holy fucking kissing.

He’d kissed Chuck. He’d gotten to feel Chuck’s body up against his and Chuck’s hot tongue in his mouth and fuck the noises his friend had made? Safe to say Tommy had really fucking enjoyed it, and as soon as he brushed his teeth and changed clothes he was going to go see about doing it again.

Last night, Tommy hadn’t known exactly how to approach his new interest in his best friend, but it had felt so easy to go from from seeing Chuck as the best guy he knew to the best guy who was also pretty as fuck.

Tommy had thought that, after more than ten years of friendship, he’d known Chuck’s face, but last night he’d felt like he was looking at his friend for the first time. How had he never noticed Chuck’s eyelashes were the same red as his hair, or that there was a cluster of freckles at the base of his long, graceful neck? The way his blue eyes sparkled when he laughed and softened when he looked at the people he cared about.

His gaze had been drawn to Chuck’s jutting collarbones, to his smile that was maybe the most beautiful thing Tommy’d ever seen. His attention got stuck on his long fingers and the lean muscles of his freckled forearms.

He noticed Chuck in a way he’d never noticed him before, and every part of Tommy was ready, hungry to move on to whatever came next.

A conversation seemed like a good place to start.

He thought Chuck had been into it, based on how his body and mouth had moved against him, but Tommy knew better than to make assumptions based on a drunken makeout. He thought about what he would say first as he padded over to the guest bathroom, retrieving the spare toothbrush and whitening toothpaste he kept stashed there.

The bite of the mint chased away the last of his whiskey breath, and once he’d splashed his face with water, Tommy changed into sweats and a t-shirt in the guest room.

His footsteps were muffled on the long runner rug that ran the length of the hallway. When he reached the closed door to Chuck’s bedroom, he twisted the knob carefully and stepped inside.

Tommy had always loved what Chuck had done with his room. There was something about the gray-blue walls and the black and white framed photographs combined with the lighter wood of his dresser and frame for his king bed that made the room feel like it belonged in a vacation home.

Sir Mix-A-Lot, Chuck’s ancient, black cat that was the most shy of the three, blinked at Tommy from his perch on a folded blanket on top of the dresser. Angel was stretched out on her back on the cushioned bench at the foot of the bed, and Bones was curled up in the crook of Chuck’s knee.

Tommy couldn’t keep the fond smile from his face as he walked around to the side of the king bed. Chuck slept curled in a tight ball on his side, perfectly positioned in the middle of the bed with his hair fanned out against the white pillowcase and his expression soft and peaceful.

The bed dipped under his weight as Tommy climbed onto the bed and lay on his side facing Chuck. He reached out a finger and booped Chuck on the tip of his nose.

Chuck scrunched up his face and groaned, burrowing down into his pillow.

“Good morning, Ginger Snap.”

At that Chuck blinked his blue eyes open. “No.”

Tommy grinned. “What? No Ginger Snap?”

“That’s not going to be a thing.” Chuck stifled a yawn, rolling over to his back and arching his chest with another groan. “How are you feeling?”

Tommy’s eyes dropped to the smooth skin of Chuck’s bare chest, wondering what his nipples would feel like under his tongue. “Like shit, but otherwise I’m good.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

Tommy shifted, propping himself up on one elbow so that he could look down at his friend. “So.”

“So,” Chuck parroted back.

“I kissed you last night.”

Chuck stifled a yawn, but Tommy could see something shift on his face. “Yeah, you did,” he said quietly, before arching his brows at Tommy. “What was that about, huh?”

“I wanted to.”

“What?”

Tommy’s eyes dropped involuntarily to Chuck’s mouth, his lower lip chapped from sleep, and felt a sharp urge to lick it. “I kissed you last night because I wanted to kiss you, and, if you want, I’d like to kiss you again.”

Chuck stared at him with a blank expression on his face, and Tommy’s chest tightened as the silence stretched on. “But,” Chuck began, drawing out the word as he stared at him. “You’re straight.”

“I want you,” Tommy said with absolute certainty.

“What does that even mean, Tommy? You’re one of my best friends, and for as long as I’ve known you you’ve been a straight man. You were married to a woman. And now, what? You want to take a walk on the gay side?”

Tommy swallowed, doubt starting to creep in. It wasn’t doubt in himself or what he wanted: while he had no idea how to explain what he was feeling for Chuck, he was certain it was real. It was the most real and honest thing he’d ever felt in his life.

But the questions Chuck was asking made everything feel a lot less simple.

“I don’t know,” Tommy finally answered, truthfully. “I don’t know what to call it. All I know is it’s you, Chuck. It’s just you.”

For a moment Chuck looked devastated, anguish clear in his bright eyes before he shook his head and his expression shifted, like he’d made up his mind.

“I can’t,” he started, his voice soft. “I’m not going to experiment with you, T.”

Regroup, Tommy. He forced a smile, shoving down the hurt and embarrassment. “Right. Of course. That totally makes sense. Got it.”

Warmth surrounded his wrist and Tommy glanced down in time to see Chuck’s fingers tighten around him. He looked up, meeting Chuck’s bright blue gaze.

Tommy opened his mouth to say something, but Chuck beat him to it. “If this is real, and you’re having feelings for a man for the first time, then you should explore them. You should try and—” There was a little hitch in his voice, and Tommy watched his throat work as he swallowed. “Experiment, you know. Do all of it. There’s an incredible community of people who can support you, and I have no doubt you’ll find someone, Tommy. You are,” his breath hitched and he shook his head. “You’re everything a person could ever want.”

But not what Chuck wanted , was unspoken in the soft morning air between them.

Tommy didn’t know how to explain that he didn’t want to explore or experiment. That the feelings that had woken up in his body were only directed toward the man who was currently turning him down in the most kind, Chuck-like way.

“I get it, man,” Tommy said. “I’ve gotta head out. But I’ll see you Monday morning, yeah?”

Chuck watched him, his expression still closed off. “I’ll be there.”

Tommy rolled up off of the bed, stretching his arms over his head as he swallowed against the nausea turning his stomach. “Have a good Sunday, Red Racer,” he called out over his shoulder.

He smiled as he heard Chuck’s surprised laugh behind him, making quick work of getting his stuff and heading out the door.

Fuck . Tommy heeded to regroup, to figure out where to go from here.

Maybe Chuck had a point. Maybe he needed to sit with whatever these new feelings were for a bit longer. Maybe he should experiment with someone else. But even the idea of doing what he wanted to do to Chuck—what he wanted Chuck to do to him—with another man, made his stomach heave.

* * *

By Monday at noon Tommy was so exhausted that putting on the sunny disposition expected of him at work felt like ripping off a hangnail. He was stuck in their main office finishing up a sales report Rick needed by the next day, when typically he would be bouncing between branches and checking in on his team in the field.

He’d spent a restless Sunday in his apartment, glaring at the boxes lining the walls, but unable to muster up the willpower to commit to unpacking. He’d gotten groceries for the week, including the molasses he’d need for his ginger snap cookie recipe, and had grabbed dinner with Keaton.

Keaton had been his usual self, curious to hear more about Tommy’s current read: Alexander the Great: The Anabasis and the Indica , a heady book written back in the second century by the Greek historian, Arrian. Conversation had turned from history to fishing to Keaton’s younger sister, who was headstrong and insistent on rebelling against the family’s expectations.

There were a few moments throughout the dinner when Tommy thought about telling him about Chuck, but something held him back. Maybe it was the way Chuck had questioned his advances that was still throwing Tommy off, casting doubt on the certainty he’d felt.

For whatever reason, he’d kept his mouth shut.

“Littleton.”

Tommy swiveled his chair, without adjusting his slumped posture as he faced Deb. “What?” he asked, not bothering to warm his tone.

She arched her brows at him. “What’s gotten into you?”

Tommy sighed. “Personal life shit.”

She looked at him with a curious expression on her face. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Just then the office door opened, the door chime ringing loudly.

Tommy glanced back over his shoulder, surprised to see an attractive woman whom he didn’t recognize. She was dressed fashionably in a sweater with wide-legged trousers, and her black hair hung down around her shoulders. Her almond eyes were kind as she looked past Tommy.

“You forgot your lunch, babe,” she said fondly, and Tommy turned around to find Deb standing up and moving quickly toward the woman.

“You didn’t have to—” Deb began, but the woman waved her off.

“I know how much you love yakisoba,” the woman replied, and leaned in to press a chaste kiss to Deb’s lips.

Tommy looked down, wanting to give them a moment. Shit. He’d had no idea Deb was with someone. He busied his hands with his phone, scrolling through his email and trying not to listen to the sweet words the two women were sharing.

“Littleton.”

He looked up at Deb, who was watching him with a conflicted expression on her face. “This is Mei Lin.”

Tommy stood up and walked over to them, extending a hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Tommy.”

They exchanged brief pleasantries, and it was obvious that Deb was uncomfortable with the entire exchange. Rather than relishing in his coworker’s discomfort, Tommy wished there was a way to reassure her, to put her at ease.

When Mei Lin left with a wave to Tommy and a lingering hug for Deb, Tommy returned to his desk. He could hear the click of Deb’s shoes as she walked behind him and the creak of her chair as she sat down.

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, Tommy spoke. “She seems lovely,” he offered.

He heard a shaky exhale behind him. “She is.” Another beat of silence. “She’s my wife.”

“Awesome.” Tommy wasn’t sure what else to say, so he threw out the first thing that came to him. “I think I might be bisexual.”

The word felt good on his tongue, falling from him as easily as laughter. It felt monumental, like the sort of change that could rewrite a person, but, truthfully, Tommy still felt the same.

He was still Tommy Littleton who was divorced and worked hard. And he was still Tommy Littleton who wanted that fucking promotion almost as much as he wanted his best friend to give him a chance.

It was quiet for too long, and Tommy opened his mouth to say he was just kidding, but then Deb spoke.

“Okay,” she said, like he’d just informed her it was humid outside or the office AC was too cold.

“Okay,” he echoed, because that was what made sense.