Page 21 of Should Our Hearts Catch Fire

“I don’t even know if he likes guys.” There have been…tells, but nothing solid to go off of.

“He doesn’t have to like guys. He just has to like you,” Ash says it like he’s explaining something obvious to a total dumbass. “And let’s face it, it’s more important to you to save his soul or whatever than it is to pursue a relationship with him.”

Gabe scowls. Damn Ash for knowing him so well. “I hate it when you’re right.” The chances are that once he manages to bring a little more light to Ellis’ life, he’ll stop being so hung up on him. After all, the most important thing is that Ellis is happy. With or without Gabe in his life.

“Sure you do. Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

Not really wanting to be in closed-in quarters with Ash and his dick, but knowing how persistent Ash can be, Gabe collects his scooter and follows him to the car. For the ride home, he makes sure to put up the barrier again. Just in case.

Chapter 5

Ellis pinches the bridgeof his nose, trying to fight off the headache he feels building. His vision has started to blur from the incessant staring into the computer. He should probably give in and get a pair of glasses like his doctor is telling him to, but he simply doesn’t look good with them on. Contacts aren’t an option, since he’d rather die than let anything touch his eyeball. The eye exams are bad enough.

Normally, he tries to avoid having to take work home with him, but it’s been happening a lot this past week. He’s been getting distracted at work, and there’s no point pretending he doesn’t know the reason. No matter what he does; his mind keeps wandering to deep, amber eyes and wide, heartful smiles. To kind words Ellis has no right to but craves deeply.

In short, Gabriel is fucking with his head, and his work. That just won’t do. No matter how good the coffee is, or how settled it makes him feel, Ellis can’t go back. It’s not conducive to his productivity. Or sanity, for that matter.

The ringing of his phone gives him a reason to take a much-needed break, though he really shouldn’t take any if he wants to get this done tonight.

Cal’s name flashing on the screen makes him sigh. What does he need this time? Cooking advice? Complaining about being bullied by his dog?

He accepts the call. “Cal, hey.”

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Cal blurts out instead of a greeting, sounding frantic. Oh dear. Did he turn all the laundry pink again? Last time he did, he called Ellis in a complete panic, afraid of what Dawson would say when he came home.

“Is it urgent? I’m quite busy.”

“Did you know Dawson wanted to apply for a divorce?”

Ellis freezes, the headache and work instantly forgotten. He pushes his chair back and stands up. “He told you.”

It doesn’t make sense. Dawson has been fighting him—fighting everyone as far as Ellis knows—tooth and nail to ensure Cal wouldn’t find out about their past. Ellis let a comment or two slip about Cal’s drinking, but that was that. It’s been almost two months since the accident and Dawson seemed so happy with the direction things have been going. Why would he tell Cal now?

“You did know,” Cal says, voice tight with betrayal.

“I found out by accident,” Ellis says defensively. It’s not fair to put blame on him. For him, this was a lose-lose scenario from the start. His options were to tell Cal the truth and risk ruining everything, for all of them, or not tell him and risk losing Cal over a lie. Like he is right now.

“So did I,” Cal says, resolving Ellis’ confusion. Does that mean Dawsonhadn’ttold him?

“How?”

“I found the divorce papers in his nightstand. I wasn’t going through his stuff,” Cal adds in a rush, as though he’s worried Ellis would judge him. He’s the last person who can judge anyone. “I don’t understand, Ellis,” Cal admits quietly, voice as small and broken as Ellis has ever heard it. “I thought… He seems happy with me. And just now, he…” There’s a pause, an intake of breath so big Ellis can hear it through the phone. “He asked me to hold him. He was in pain and needed sleep, and he asked me to hold him.”

“Cal.” Ellis feels his eyes well up. And isn’t that a first? He’s not a crier. Neither is Cal. Their whole family line might as well be carved from stone. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’m sorry.”

“You knew,” Cal reminds him, sounding angry again. Okay, angry is good. Ellis can work with angry. He knows how to handle angry. “So you must know the reason.”

“I do,” he confirms. “But it’s not mine to tell. You need to talk to Dawson.” There’s no way he’s making things any worse than they are. And yeah, maybe it’s selfish and cowardly to dump all of this on Dawson, but it doesn’t mean he’s wrong. Even if Ellis didn’t know the truth, it would still be up to Dawson to tell it.

“Thanks,” Cal grits out, clearly not sharing Ellis’ views. Ellis calls out to him before he can hang up, earning an irritated, “What?”

“Just… Whatever he tells you, keep an open mind. You’re a different person than you were before, but Dawson remembers both of you. It might be hard for you, but it’s harder for him.”

Ellis can’t even imagine what a mindfuck this must have been for Dawson. Ellis and Cal had barely tolerated each other before the accident, reserving their interactions to business talk and biting each other’s heads off. But getting used to this new Cal has still been an adjustment.

Cal doesn’t say anything, the line going quiet for a long moment before the call disconnects.

That went well.