Page 21

Pope

“ D amn, that’s kind of prophetic.”

Hunter patted me on the shoulder before crossing to where Posey stood, smiling at him like he was her everything.

Jealousy ate a hole in my stomach, pouring acid into my bloodstream, and burning me from the inside out.

I’d never say out loud I wanted what everyone else had, but I also couldn’t say I didn’t want it, either.

As the night dragged on, I noticed Thierry continued to drink without eating a damn thing. Idiot. He was going to pay for his actions before the night was over, if not sooner.

However, what happened next would stay with me for the rest of my life. Thierry pivoted, coming back toward the bar where I’d taken up residency, drinking coffee while the others mingled around me, having a good time.

Thierry’s unfocused eyes and leaning walk—made worse by his injury—should have been the only sign he needed to stop drinking while he was behind. Instead, he curled his lip at me and went straight to the bartender.

“Water,” Thierry said. “Please.”

The bartender nodded and handed him the cold bottle, allowing Thierry to crack the seal when he was ready.

I sat there, watching him out of the corner of my eye, my hands folded around the mug in a death grip.

Between Hunter and Wes’ little pep talks, they were both right.

If I didn’t tell Thierry what I felt or how confused I was, we’d continue to spin in circles until one of us got dizzy and fell.

“You just think you’re so perfect.” Thierry slurred his words. “Sitting there, drinking your coffee without a care in the world. Well, I’ve got news for you, Pope Ellis…” He broke open the bottle and drank down half the contents while swaying on his feet. He was blitzed.

“Oh yeah? What news is that, Thier?” I rubbed the pad of my thumb along the curved lip of the mug.

“You’re not perfect,” he said. “You’ve never been perfect. Not even when we were kids.”

“Never claimed to be,” I replied. Beneath those drunken words, I could hear just how much I’d hurt him. How much pain I’d inflicted upon him the second I stopped “being his friend.” “I’m sure you’re going to tell what I am though, aren’t you, Thier?”

“Smug asshole.” Thierry took a step toward me and poked me in the chest with his finger. “You broke me.”

I couldn’t say what emotion erupted within me at first, the anguish of knowing I’d taken something away from him, besides his pride, or elation because he was finally letting me in. “Sorry won’t fix this, will it, Thierry?”

He shook his head while licking his bottom lip. “Nope. I won’t believe you, anyway. People like you take and take and take. You smashed my heart, Pope.” He motioned like he was ripping his heart from his chest, then stomped on it. “I loved you so much.”

Shocked, I sat there not sure how to respond or if I was supposed to.

I knew the majority of this conversation he wouldn’t remember come morning.

Did I stop him there and tell him he was drunk, allowing him to stay pissed at me or did I play along with this little exchange and learn exactly what Thierry wanted from me in the long run?

“You were my best friend,” I whispered, grasping at the tips of his fingers so he was closer to me. “I didn’t want to leave you.”

“But you fell in love with her,” he mumbled. “Of all the people you could have chosen over me, her. Cherie?”

As misogynistic as it sounded, Cherie fulfilled a need within me at the time.

I knew we’d never be together longer than the rest of the school year.

But for the time we were together, she helped me out.

Finally hearing the jealousy and the hate in Thierry’s tone, gave me a piece of his truth.

It would cost him when he remembered that part from tonight.

“Did you want me to pick you instead, Thier?”

He squinted his eyes, like he hadn’t told me only minutes ago what he’d wanted or that I didn’t know he was gay. “Are you reading my mind now?”

I laughed, lifting the cup to my lips. My gaze held his as I took a swallow of my coffee before lowering the mug to my lap.

“No, I’m not. I could never read you unless we were on the ice together.

Tell me something, which part hurts more for you.

Me not being at your back even now, or the fact I chose Cherie to be my first, instead of you?

” I tried to keep my voice even without emotion, yet I winced at the cruelty of my words.

It wasn’t fair to put Thierry in that situation.

“Fuck you, Pope,” he muttered, stepping closer so I could smell the whiskey and sweet alcohol on his breath. “Does it piss you off that I lost my virginity to some random guy overseas?” His glassy eyes widened in shock as though he couldn’t believe he revealed that little nugget of information.

“Oh yeah?” I pressed. The corner of my mouth lifted as I continued to stare at him. “Tell me, did you top, or did you bottom?”

He smirked, finishing off the bottle of water in his hand. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Didn’t matter to me. When it came to Thierry, if there ever was an us, I’d be topping him.

I’d fuck him until he begged me to stop because I wore him out.

I mentally jerked at the thought, surprising myself with how certain I’d been.

“Maybe I would.” I stood and leaned in, grazing his cheek with mine.

“But, even if you fucked him, I’d be the one fucking you. All. Night. Long.”

I didn’t know where the bravado came from or why I felt the need to taunt him.

Still the words spilled past my lips, and I didn’t want to take them back.

I never wanted to take them back. Since he’d been home, I’d had to face some life-altering facts and questions.

It was Thierry’s turn to do the same. Standing at my full height, Thierry’s eyes went wide, then all the color in his cheeks drained while his jaw turned a sickly shade of green.

Thierry gulped hard and ran toward the exit of the building.

Guess I really stuck my foot in my mouth this time. Or the alcohol decided to make a not-so-subtle reappearance. I’d bet on the second, but I’d also been blunter than I meant to be.

I didn’t follow behind Thierry. Instead, I asked the bartender for two more bottles of water and when everyone started to leave, I made my exit.

Wes waited near the door and held out his fist as I passed him. “Get him home safe.”

I didn’t even have to ask who he was talking about. “That’s the plan.”

The cool night air hit me in the face, and I pulled my phone from my back pocket to check the time. The screen lit up my features, momentarily blinding me as I checked the readout. A little after three in the morning. Damn. Thierry had to be hurting by now.

Scanning the area, knowing he hadn’t gone far, I found him slouched against a tree, the streetlight illuminating only half of his pale face.

He looked completely wasted and drained.

Damn it, Thierry . Yet, I couldn’t blame him.

Seemed he hit the bottle harder after I’d confronted him and pushed way too damn hard. .

“Hey,” I said, approaching him slowly. “You alright?”

“Shit,” he replied. “Why’d it have to be you that found me?”

I could take that question one of several ways. Not wanting to fight anymore, I took the high road. “Because, you know, even if we’re not on good terms or haven’t been for a while now, I’d never let anything bad happen to you.”

He snorted, then gagged again before turning away to puke. “Fuck, what was I thinking?” The whine in his voice had sympathy filling me. “I am never drinking again.”

I’d have laughed if it’d been any other time, but not right now. Not at this crossroads. “I told Wes I’d get you home. You don’t have to be by yourself.”

“Why do you care?”

“Because you’ve always been my best friend.” That was the truth. None of the guys from high school or even the people I’d met over the years could ever compare to Thierry. None of them would ever replace him.

“Doesn’t feel like it,” he said, taking the bottle of water from me when I held it out. “Hasn’t in a long time.” He rinsed his mouth out and held onto the water.

“You’re right. It hasn’t, and I didn’t.” I exhaled. “I’m sorry, Thierry. For everything. I won’t make any excuses. Nothing I could say will ever make up for what’s happened between us. Or me quitting all those years ago.”

“It’s stupid, isn’t it? It’s not like you’re gay or bi. I had no reason to be so damn jealous of you or Cherie. Like I wasn’t important to you. Worse, like you left me behind.”

“Left you behind?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Thier, you’re one of the best hockey players I’ve ever seen on the ice. If anything, I was holding you back.”

“No, you didn’t,” he said, taking a small sip of water. “I was lost out there the first few months without you. I thought for sure the coach would send me home because I couldn’t get my shit together. Having you with me gave me the confidence to play the best game every time.”

My heart cracked a little more and crumbled with each word he spoke. Thierry held me in such a high esteem, I didn’t deserve his praise. “How did you overcome it?”

He shrugged. “I learned how to trust my teammates. When we were on the ice, I only trusted two people. You and coach. That was all I needed. Now, I’ve realized I have to have faith in the entire team if I want to continue to win.”

“I’m glad you figured it out,” I answered truthfully.

“I hate to sound like a broken record, Pope, but what are we doing?” He motioned between us. “What is this? Why are you suddenly acting so possessive of me?”

“I don’t know.” Another truth. “I don’t understand how I feel. Is it unrequited love, or just jealousy? Whatever it is, the thought of you being with someone else makes me irrationally angry. Also, a bit sad. Like my whole world bottomed out. That confuses me even more, too.”

“You’re not gay,” he reminded me, again, for the umpteenth time.

“Thanks for stating the obvious,” I quipped. “Like I hadn’t realized all this time I wasn’t gay.”

“So, I shouldn’t matter then,” he said, this time his voice was softer. “The angst and discord between us kept us apart for too long, Pope. I want my best friend back. The guy I could talk to about the game or have at my back when I stepped out onto the ice. I want you.”

The yearning in, “I want you,” knocked a huge chunk out of my doubts. “I saw this hashtag on social media or well a couple of them.”

“Oh? What were they?” He glanced up and some of the green in his jaw faded.

“One was #biforhim and the other was #biawakening,” I answered, still confused about the terms. “Is that possible?”

Thierry nodded. “Anything is possible, Pope. You just have to accept it when you finally figure it out.”

Right, of course. “Can I be both of those things? Could that be what I am?”

“Your sexuality is yours,” he said, sobering.

“I’ll never force you to tell me anything about yourself that you’re not ready to say out loud.

Remember, coming out is extremely personal.

It can be scary and exhilarating at the same time.

Also, no one has the right to expose you to anyone.

Also, I’d never force you to choose me. If you’re not bi, it’s okay, too. ”

“Fuck.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “Give me time, Thier. I just need a little more time.”

He nodded. “I think I’m good now. You can go. I’ll call an Uber.”

“I told Wes I’d get you home safe. Don’t worry about Uber, man.” I moved to his side, ready for him to lean on me so he could walk, but Thierry surprised me as he ambled back toward the cars unassisted. “What a night, right?”

Thierry snickered, though the sound carried the weight of our conversation and sadness. “Something like that for sure.”

Yeah. For sure.