Page 2 of Straight to You

LOGAN

R yder’s being weird. I can tell he’s distracted by this rando at the bar, even though he’s pretending not to be. He’s half listening at best, keeps saying “what” when I stop talking, and he hasn’t laughed at a single one of my jokes, which is very unlike him.

I’m not sure what’s going on or why this guy suddenly has him so captivated, but I do know I don’t like it. At all.

I nudge Ryder’s knee under the table again.

It feels like the tenth time I’ve tried to pull his attention back from whatever is happening in the bar.

Before the guy he’s been making eyes with walked in, he was his usual, happy self.

Now, it’s like he’s completely checked out.

The shift was so sudden and makes no sense. I’ve never seen him do this before.

“You sure you’re good?” I ask.

Once again, he blinks like I just pulled him out of his head. “Yeah, sorry. Just spaced out again.”

Right.

Ryder’s not one to zone out like this, especially when it involves another person. He’s never shown that much interest in dating, nor spent much time making eyes with people at the bar. He’s also straight, which is why it’s throwing me off. Why is this guy holding so much of his attention?

Friday night is usually our night without distractions to decompress and catch up from the week, and right now, this guy is ruining it.

I try to draw him back in, wanting his attention on me instead.

I comment on the couple behind us, who’ve clearly just met on a dating app, and are doing their best to look engaged instead of pretending they aren’t both waiting for their best friend to call with a fake emergency to end their misery.

That would usually get a smile, maybe even a laugh.

But tonight, I get a distracted “hmm” as he taps his phone screen to check the time.

Tonight sucks.

“Think I’m gonna head out,” he says. He’s barely touched his second beer, and he’s already grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair before I even respond. “Feeling kind of off tonight. You ready?”

“Oh.” I try not to sound disappointed, even though I don’t want the night to end yet. I wish we could rewind to before that guy walked into the bar. “You okay?”

He hesitates for a moment, like he’s debating whether to say something more or pretend he’s fine.

I rack my brain, trying to figure out if I did something to throw him off tonight, but I know in my gut it’s got nothing to do with me and everything to do with the stranger in the leather jacket.

We’ve been friends for years, close in a way most people never get, and I’ve never seen him pull away like this.

It’s making me feel uneasy because I can’t tell if I’m missing something major going on with Ryder right now.

Is he into that guy ?

He reluctantly sighs, meeting my gaze. “Don’t look right now, but that guy at the bar keeps staring at me, and I don’t like it. Every time I glance over, he’s still looking. Doesn’t even try to look away, like most people would. It’s creeping me out.”

“I know who you’re talking about,” I confirm. “I saw you looking over there a few times. Weird he keeps staring at you. Wonder what it’ll take for that guy to take a hint you’re not interested.”

He’s probably trying to flirt and doesn’t know Ryder is straight. But, honestly, if this is his version of making a move, it’s seriously backfiring. The lingering, borderline obsessive eye contact is not a turn-on for anyone.

“Yeah, I’m not sure, but I’m ready to get out of here.”

I nod, draining the last of my beer. We both close out and head outside, making the walk to my apartment. When we reach my building, I slow down and he stops to look at me.

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” I ask, hoping he’ll change his mind. It doesn’t happen often, but when he heads home on a Friday, the loneliness hits harder. This night’s always been ours, and without him, it just feels empty.

“I don’t know, that guy put me in a weird mood. Think I want to go home tonight and decompress,” he says. “Next week, promise.”

I force myself to nod, but I hate that he wants to process tonight alone. I’m the one he’s supposed to turn to when something’s bothering him.

“Alright. Text me when you get home.”

“I will,” he says, giving me a small, forced smile before turning and walking the few more steps toward his car.

That guy at the bar clearly rattled him, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s because he was staring at Ryder like he was waiting for an invite to approach him, or something else entirely.

Ryder has never had an issue with queer people.

If that guy was into him—and it sure seemed like he was—I know that wouldn’t be the problem.

But something about tonight was different, and whatever it stirred up, I’ve never seen Ryder react like that before.

Turning and heading inside my building, I make my way to my apartment. The door swings shut behind me, and the sound echoes, reminding me that he’s not here despite how many pieces of him are scattered around my apartment.

It doesn’t even bother me that his hoodie is still sitting on a kitchen chair or that he bought a second charger for his laptop, which he leaves plugged into my wall.

Sometimes I’ll even find his socks under the coffee table.

He’s always around and I never get tired of him, which is telling because if anyone else pulled the shit he did, I’d probably never invite them back over.

I think that’s what’s worrying me so much. I’ve known him for almost a decade, and not once have I ever wanted space or needed a break from him, and he’s never mentioned wanting space from me, either. Not until tonight anyway, and I know for most people that’s unthinkable, but that’s just our norm.

I used to joke that it was because we were really compatible and that he got me in a way most people didn’t. But lately, I’ve started wondering if maybe the reason none of my relationships ever stuck is because I already give the best parts of myself to him.

It’s dumb, probably. We’re just friends. Best friends. Practically attached at the hip, but sometimes, when he’s not here, it feels like a piece of me is missing.

Why am I feeling so needy right now ?

We’ve been friends since freshman year of college after we met in Introduction to Environmental Science, a random gen-ed that didn’t make sense for either of us to take, but that’s college. Ryder was a communications major with a minor in performing arts, and I was a graphic design student.

On the first day of class, Ryder dropped into the seat next to mine and immediately started making jokes about how boring this class would be, and that’s what pulled me into his orbit.

I’ll admit it—at first, I had a crush. How could I not?

Ryder is hot with his thick, unruly brown hair that always makes him look like he has perfectly styled bedhead.

He’s got a sharp jawline and a short beard that really works for him, and his smile completely draws you in.

It makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world.

At least, that’s how I felt. And I especially like that he’s two inches taller than me.

Being six feet tall, I’m used to being the one people lean on.

But with him? I wanted to shrink into his arms and let him hold me close.

Then there’s his voice. It’s deep and confident, and the kind that commands attention without trying. It’s no wonder he became a narrator right after college. His voice could convince anyone of anything.

He’s the perfect package. The perfect straight package. And once I learned that, I buried my crush as deep down as it would go and moved on. Or at least, that’s what I’ve always told myself, and I think I’ve done a damn good job.

Starting junior year of college, we moved in together off-campus and didn’t separate until last year, when we finally decided, mostly for the sake of other people, that maybe twenty-seven was the age to get our own places.

Truthfully, it’s the worst decision we’ve ever made. I’ve never felt as lonely as I have in the past year, and it always makes the rare Friday nights we don’t spend together even harder.

It’s just one night, I remind myself. It’s not like he said he doesn’t want to spend time with me anymore.

I don’t know why my mind is spiraling so hard.

Maybe the problem is that it’s been too long since I’ve let myself want anything—or anyone—outside of work and spending time with him.

Maybe it’s pent-up tension and loneliness I didn’t realize I was experiencing until Ryder’s attention shifted elsewhere.

Maybe I need to hook up with someone and get this feeling out of my system.

Something low stakes. Just...something that reminds me I still exist outside of this friendship I’ve built my whole damn world around.

All I wanted tonight was to spend time with my best friend, and it felt like all he wanted to do was check out and go home.

Realistically, I know it has nothing to do with me, but my thoughts have a way of making it personal anyway.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out, seeing a text from Ryder.

Ryder:

Home. Night Logan

That was brief. Clearly, he doesn’t want to talk more tonight, and I don’t want to push him if he’s already feeling like he needs space.

Logan:

Night Ry

I toss my phone down on the couch next to me, but don’t move away. I wish he’d stayed, and I wish I’d asked more questions because my mind is running wild.

I try to tell myself it’s nothing, and that he promised next week he’d be back on my couch with me, stealing the blanket, and falling asleep halfway through a movie.

I think about turning on the TV, but instead, my eyes drift to a picture of the two of us at the county fair a few years ago.

Ryder’s arm is slung around my shoulders, both of us laughing, and he’s holding a giant stuffed bear he won at one of those rigged basketball games.

I still remember how he handed it to me with a huge grin and said, “I won it for you, obviously. For the nights I’m not there. ”

I wish I knew where that thing went because I’d snuggle the fluff out of it tonight.

Yep, it’s time to open up my dating apps. Tomorrow, though, I need to get a grip first.

This level of neediness is new for me, but it’s clear I need to redirect my attention to someone I could actually have a future with, or who could at least make me come so that I can take my mind off my best friend.

By the time I head to bed and I’m almost asleep, I hear my phone buzz on my nightstand. Groaning, I reach for it, and my eyes widen when I see Ryder’s name.

Huh, that’s odd. Maybe he wants to talk about tonight after all.

I swipe to answer, putting it on speaker. “You’re not usually a late-night caller. Everything okay?”

He pauses for a second before responding, and I’m immediately worried.

“It’s probably nothing,” he says quietly. “I thought I heard something outside my window, but it’s probably a raccoon or something. I don’t know. I’m being paranoid. ”

“Did you check?”

“Yeah. Didn’t see anything. Just…tonight’s been weird, I guess.”

“You want me to come over?” I ask, already halfway out of bed. “Or did you just wanna talk?”

He hesitates. “Just talk. I don’t know, I think I needed to hear you tell me it was probably nothing. I’m sure you were almost asleep. Sorry.”

My chest tightens.

“Don’t be sorry. You can call me anytime. But seriously, if anything else happens, you call me back and I’ll come over.”

“Okay. Deal.”

The line goes quiet for a few seconds, but I don’t want to hang up. I know he doesn’t either, probably still wired from whatever freaked him out.

“You remember that night junior year,” I start, “when we locked ourselves out of the apartment and had to sit on the porch wrapped in the car blanket until the locksmith showed up?”

He lets out a short, soft laugh.

“Yeah. You wouldn’t stop complaining that your ass was freezing.”

“Because it was! And you were no help. You kept reading random facts off your phone like that was gonna warm us up.”

“I was distracting you. That’s called being a good friend.”

I smile to myself. His voice already sounds a little steadier. “You still do that, you know,” I say.

“What, read facts?”

“Distract me. Settle me down without even realizing it,” I say with a soft smile into my pillow.

He doesn’t say anything right away, but I hear the way he exhales like he’s finally letting some of the tension go .

“Thanks, you just did that for me,” he murmurs.

“Mmmm, I did, you caught me.”

“And thanks for picking up, I knew you’d talk some sense into me.”

“Any time,” I tell him, meaning it. “Now go to sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? But don’t hesitate to call me again if you need me.”

“Okay, thanks. Night, Logan.”

“Night, Ry.”

As soon as I hang up, I can’t help but wonder if waiting until tomorrow is too long. I let my thumb hover over his name in my phone, but I shake my head and set it back down. He said he’s okay, and I need to believe him.

But just in case, I turn my volume all the way up.