Sighing, Gabriel sat up. “I hate you,” he told Jared before pecking him on the cheek. “Night.”
“Good night,” Jared said, averting his gaze.
Neither Jared nor Alexander watched the couple leave.
Looking at his cousin’s stoic face, Alexander didn’t know what to say.
“He doesn’t know, does he?” he said at last.
Clenching his jaw, Jared shook his head.
“Why don’t you tell him?” Alexander chuckled harshly. “You tell me not to suppress emotions, but you —”
“It’s different,” Jared snapped.
It was the first time Alexander had ever seen his cousin angry. “How is that different?”
Jared stood up and walked to the mini-bar to pour himself a glass of whiskey. He downed it in a few big gulps. “Because there’s no point. He’s straight. Not like you. He’s truly straight. I know him inside out. He’s really straight. Can’t-get-it-up-for-a-man straight. He’s in love with his girlfriend. They’re very serious. If I tell him, it would just make everything awkward, nothing more.”
Alexander eyed his stiff back. “He doesn’t seem indifferent. He’s very affectionate—”
“He’s French,” Jared said flatly. “And no, he isn’t indifferent. He loves me. Maybe even too much. But not that way.”
“How do you—”
“Drop it. Please. I’ve been dealing with this for years.”
Sure you have, Alexander thought, remembering the expression on Jared’s face as he looked at the French kid. “Why don’t you just leave? Quit your job and come back home.”
Jared laughed, a short, ragged sound. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“For the same reason your mother can’t leave your father. He’s my everything.” Jared turned to look at Alexander, a wry smile on his lips. “I know you despise your mother for that. Do you think I’m weak and pathetic, too?”
Alexander looked at his older cousin—the cousin he’d used to look up to when they were children—and didn’t know what to say. “You can’t just stay and watch him with someone else. It’ll break you.”
Jared grabbed the bottle of whiskey and brought it to his lips. “I know,” he said and took a big gulp. His eyes were dull and tired. “Today his girlfriend asked me to examine her. Apparently, they’re trying for a baby.”
Alexander inhaled sharply. “Is she…?”
“No. Not yet.” Jared took another gulp. “But it will happen someday. And someday, I’ll be the best man at his wedding and maybe a godfather to his kids, and—” Jared cut himself off as his voice thickened. He turned away. “Maybe I’m a weak. Maybe I’m an idiot to stick around only because he needs me. Maybe it’s unhealthy to live for crumbs of affection and let one person become the center of my life. Maybe.”
There was a long silence, during which Jared stared into the crackling fire and Alexander stared at him.
“If you want my advice,” Jared said, still not looking at him. His voice was rough and clipped. “My advice to you: fuck whatever issues you have. Don’t overthink it. Obsession, love—it doesn’t matter what you call it. They’re just words. If you look at him and think ‘this is mine,’ that’s it. Grab it if you can. I wish I could.”
Alexander walked to him and clasped Jared’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
Jared’s muscles flexed under his hand.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice toneless. “Me, too.”
Chapter 20
Jared’s words still rang in his ears as Alexander left his cousin’s house and got into his car.
He slumped back in the driver’s seat, running a hand over his face.
Sometimes love isn’t pretty. It’s not neat, and it’s not textbook perfect. There’s no template for love. Sometimes it’s dirty. Sometimes it’s a bit creepy. And sometimes it hurts.
He thought of Jared’s dejected posture and strained smile. He thought of the way Jared looked at that French kid. Then he thought of Mila, and his other ex-girlfriends. They all were beautiful and nice, but if Alexander was honest with himself, he hadn’t felt with them even a fraction of what he did with Christian—and he didn’t mean just sex. He hadn’t felt the irresistible urge to touch, to kiss, to pull closer, to be with them. He’d never had trouble looking away when they smiled. He’d never been impatient to see them. Everything—his reactions and his emotions—had been controlled. Predictable. Shallow. And he had liked it that way. He had liked it.
Alexander was jerked away from his thoughts when the passenger door suddenly opened and someone got in.
The French kid. Gabriel. He wasn’t even wearing a jacket and was covered in snow. He glared at Alexander. “What the fuck did you do to him? Jared’s drinking, and he never drinks. Whatever you did, go back and fix it!”
Eyeing him, Alexander realized the guy wasn’t really as young as he had thought. He might be the same age as Christian. There was just something about the curve of his mouth that made him look vulnerable and innocent. But now that Alexander looked at the hard expression on the guy’s face, it was obvious how wrong his first impression was. Something told him this guy was very far from being innocent and vulnerable.