Fuck, what was with the verbal diarrhea?
“I’m sorry, Ash,” I finally said as I held his gaze. “I truly am.”
Ash looked down at the ground before glancing back up at me. “Thank you for returning it. It really means a lot to me, Aiden.” We held each other’s gazes for several long beats before he dropped his eyes, and I wanted to curse the fact that he still felt the need to do that around me. “I guess… I guess I’ll see you at the coffee shop,” he said softly as he turned to leave. I called out for him to wait and he instantly stopped and turned back to face me.
“Can I take you to dinner?” I blurted. God, what the hell was wrong with me? I sounded like a desperate teenager asking someone to prom or something.
Ash’s entire body seemed to tense before curling in on itself. “No, thank you. See you around.”
He turned and walked away quickly, not once looking back.
I stood there in shock for a minute, watching him disappear down the street before I let out a laugh. Well, I’ll be damned, I thought. How long’s it been since I’ve heard the word no?
As I began the walk back to my office, I tucked my cold hands into my pockets. I wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of mourning the loss of both the journal and the young man who’d done something to me with the damn thing. My guilt had been gnawing at me like a living thing the longer I’d held onto the journal, but now that I’d done the right thing and returned it, I still couldn’t let go of the words I’d read over and over again.
And I couldn’t let go of my need to figure out what made Ash tick. I needed to know what it was that made him seek solace between the pages of a journal. I needed to understand why looking me in the eyes was so hard for him and why he jumped at the smallest thing. I needed to show him that it didn’t have to be that way— that whatever demons were haunting him didn’t need to win.
That they couldn’t be allowed to win.
Tension rolled unbidden through my limbs as I thought about the hopeless look that sometimes came over Ash. No, I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t watch Ash drown before my very eyes and do nothing. Maybe I couldn’t convince him to take a chance on dating me, but I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing.
Not again.
No, it was time to call in reinforcements.
That night, I found myself standing in front of my best friend’s apartment door with a pair of giant pizzas. I’d called Bennett before leaving the office that afternoon to ask if I could bring his family dinner. He’d immediately agreed and rattled off their pizza preferences. As if I didn’t know. They’d had me over many times for dinner and the only way I’d found to reciprocate was by picking something up and bringing it to their place.
Before I had a chance to knock, I heard one sharp yip from the other side of the door. Bennett and Xander’s teenage son, Lucky, pulled the door open and let out a giant black dog.
“Attack, Bear,” Lucky said with a laugh. “Go get him, he’s got the good stuff.”
Bear nudged my legs with his excited bounding and sniffed the air under the pizza boxes. “Get off me, you pig,” I scolded. “This is not for you.” After bumping fists with Lucky, I handed the boxes to him and followed him into the apartment. I couldn’t get over how much he’d changed in the nine months since I’d first met the fifteen-year-old.
How everything had changed.
When we entered the kitchen, Xander and Bennett jumped apart from what had clearly been a hot and heavy make-out session.
“Ew, gross,” Lucky groaned. “Again? God.” He put the boxes down in the center of the table and cleared off a stack of textbooks and papers.
Bennett stepped forward and gave me a hug. “Glad you’re here. Thanks for bringing dinner.” I loved the way Bennett hugged me. It wasn’t that he hadn’t hugged me in the past, but there’d always been this uncertainty when he’d done it. Like he’d been afraid to send me a message that I’d somehow misinterpret. Even though I’d been the one to end things with Bennett after our brief relationship in college, he’d been the one who hadn’t really been “in” the relationship. It was something I doubted he’d even realized until recently when he’d been reunited with the man he’d always been meant to be with. So over the years, he’d been careful to make sure I didn’t think he was interested in starting things up again. Short hugs, harmless flirting, no discussions of the past— they’d all been ways we’d both coped with trying to put the awkwardness of the failed relationship behind us. But now, Bennett’s hugs were all-in hugs.