But Roach was right. It would have been a mistake to let further attachment develop, because no matter what kind of person Roach was, Zane would never stop seeing other faces in his. Roach was of their blood, the only man who’d survived the brutal destruction of his pack.
Zane needed to redirect his attention, and fast, especially since Roach didn’t want to be around him much anyway. And that wasn’t so surprising, because oftentimes Zane didn’t want to be around himself either.
He took a deep breath and pulled out the change. “Is this enough to treat us to McDonald’s?” Even asking this made him sizzle in embarrassment, but it was time to own up to the truth. Roach knew anyway, and asking him out, then realizing he didn’t have enough to pay for it, would have been much worse.
Roach’s smile was barely visible, but it was there. “Yeah, that’s enough.”
They walked past the second hand store again to reach their culinary destination, and when Zane glanced at the cashier, the guy winked at him from the other side of the glass.
Chapter 21 – Roach
Not having sex with Zane was like having his hands cut off and never getting to ride his motorcycle again, despite the Harley waiting for him in the garage. He didn’t have that much interest in jerking off, too wrapped up in thoughts of Zane whenever arousal sparked in his balls. Those same fantasies would have been exciting in other circumstances, but now they only made him sad, and no one liked a sad boner.
Roach would never mention it to Gale, but he did feel as if Zane was an addiction, and he was as much in need of rehab as Gale. All the telltale signs were there.
Obsessive thoughts?—Check.
Spending money on things he couldn’t afford?—Check.
Struggling to deny himself Zane, even though he was such a toxic presence in Roach’s life?—Check. Check. Check. But he couldn’t make himself give up on Zane altogether, as if severing the thread that linked them would put an end to his life.
So he endured Zane’s hot-and-cold behavior and tried not to get too upset because oftentimes it didn’t even feel as if Zane was being mean on purpose. It was as if some situations and topics flipped a switch in him and transformed him into a monster.
Zane admitting to his maths issues had cleared the air somewhat. He’d volunteered to help Roach tidy Gale’s room, and said he’d apply for the serving shift at the diner, so they could both cover Gale’s basic living expenses for the next month, but they hardly spoke. It was almost as if that night at the hospital had irreversibly damaged the fragile balance they’d been living in all along.
“I cleaned the place for you so you’re comfy until we sort out something better,” Roach said as he helped Gale into his room. “If you need anything, you call me, okay? I won’t judge you, I won’t guilt you. I know how shit things can get.” He petted Gale’s short blond hair.
Gale hugged himself inside the coat that had fit him perfectly months ago yet now appeared way too large. Pale as a ghost, he took in the dusky interior that no longer smelled of stale food. Everything he owned had been put into drawers, boxes, or the closet, and Roach had a hunch that making the place nicer on top of it all might cheer Gale up, so he’d even gotten a small bouquet of fresh flowers at the gas station. It now stood in a borrowed vase in the middle of the old table, changing nothing in Gale’s difficult life yet perhaps making it the tiniest bit more bearable.
Gale took a deep inhale and glanced Roach’s way, his long nails, which he always took great pride in, shortened and no longer coated with a shiny layer of polish. “Thank you. You’re a true friend.”
Roach smiled at him. “We gotta take care of each other. No one else will. You’ve got food in the fridge, and I brought you my microwave for now.”
“But… what if you want to cook?” Gale looked back at him in panic, tears in his eyes already, as if this little thing distressed him to no end.
Roach stroked his shoulder. “Then I’ll come visit and we can eat together. Best of both worlds.”
Gale stilled, so young and frail in those oversized clothes Roach felt burning guilt over not helping him sooner. Gale was still a kid—a kid who needed an older brother to steer him in the right direction, not a friend with benefits.
“Won’t Zane mind?”
“Nah, he might come over too. I think he’s over his jealousy. Or just over me, but really, don’t worry about it.”
He instantly felt bad about the glint of hope in Gale’s eyes. But the boy didn’t try to approach him and sat on the bed. “I’m sorry.”