I heard Otter exhale noisily behind me, but it came from where he stood before. It meant that he was not trying to come over to me. Good.
“I told you, Bear, I can’t just cut—”
“That’s not what I asked! What do you talk about?”
“It doesn’t matter, Bear,” he said dully. “Apparently you wouldn’t believe me regardless, seeing as how you’ve already made up your mind. Since when did you stop trusting me?”
I whirled on him. “Since when did you decide to not tell me about secret phone calls with your ex-boyfriend?” I snapped at him.
“I’ve never given you a reason not to trust me.”
“Until now,” I spat at him. “You lied to me.” Somewhere inside of me, the voice was screaming to just hear him out, to calm down and let him say what he needed to. I shoved it away.
Otter looked at me then, and I knew I had wounded him. “Bear,” he said quietly, “what do you think could possibly be going on? He’s in California. I’m here. With you. That’s not going to change.”
“Then why do you need to talk to him in the first place?” I raged at him. “What does he give you that I can’t?”
And there we have it, boys and girls, the big question, the thought that was playing in the back of my head. I figured the only reason Otter would be talking to stupid fucking Jonah (what kind of a name is that, anyway?) was because he was getting something from him that he couldn’t get from me. What, you ask, could that possibly be? I had no fucking clue, but it was what I latched onto, it was the fear that I was afraid of the most.
Otter shook his head. “I can’t believe that you would think… Bear, I love you. Do you really believe I would say that and do something to jeopardize it?”
“You’re not… answering… the question,” I hissed at him.
His eyes went hard again, and I saw a tic along his jaw line. “Fine!” he shouted at me, his anger boiling over. “You want to know what we talk about? You want to know so bad, Bear? You want to know what I’ve been doing for him?”
Suddenly, I didn’t want to know. Not because of what he said, but because I’d never seen Otter like that before. But it was too late.
“Every time he calls me, every goddamn time, I answer the phone. I know what I’m walking into when I do it, but I fucking pick it up anyways. And you know what he says, Bear? Every time he calls me, it’s to berate me, it’s to wound me, it’s to cut me down. I get on the phone, and he yells at me and screams at me and hates me, and I let him. You want to know why? I do it because I think it’s the only way he’ll get over it. I think if I let him slice me with his words, he’ll finally give up one day. I do it because regardless of what we had, regardless what I have now, he’s still my friend. And friends don’t just fucking quit on each other, just because things get hard. So yes, I talk to him, and yes, it hurts every time I do, but not because I’m in love with him, or because I’m harboring some secret desire to get back together with him. It hurts because I made him like that. I made him an angry person, and so I think the only thing I can do is let him take out his goddamn anger on me. I deserve it, don’t I? Don’t I? I know it sounds ridiculous. Believe me, I know that every time my phone rings, and I see that it’s him. I don’t want to answer it, but I have to because it’s my fault he is the way he is.”
I tried to interrupt, to stop this thing that I’d started, but he glared at me as I opened my mouth, and it shut on its own.
“So I let him say whatever the hell he wants until he feels better, and then he goes away. I could’ve stopped this a long time ago, Bear, I know it. But you want to know what he told me? What he said to make me do this every time he calls? He said that he wanted to come here. That he wanted to come to Seafare so we could talk face to face. Yes, I want him to be happy. I want to try and be his friend, but I do it because I don’t want him to come here. If he comes here, he’ll see you, and I don’t want that to happen. But not in the way you’re thinking.” He took in a ragged breath, and I wanted him to stop. I wanted him to stop so bad. I couldn’t deal with his anger anymore, that acidic feeling it caused in my heart and stomach. But he wasn’t finished.
“I don’t want him to come here and see you because I’m afraid that he’ll scare you away from me. I would do everything in my power to make sure that never happened, but I am scared, Bear. I’m scared that you would take one look at him and that this would happen, what’s happening right now. The look on your face, the way you’re standing, ready to swing at me. I should have known that he wouldn’t even need to be here to drive you away. And for that, I’m sorry. I love you too goddamn much to show you my past, because I don’t want to remember a time without you in it. Those three years I spent away, with him, were nothing compared to what I have now. But I nee
d you to trust me, Bear. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. I’m sorry if it feels that way.” He went quiet then, tears in his eyes, his gaze directed at the ground. He then moved toward the doorway and was opening the patio door when I grabbed his arm.
“Where are you going?” I whispered hoarsely, flinging his words back at him. “Were you just going to leave?”
“Bear,” he said, his voice strained in warning.
“No, Otter,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s my turn to talk. Look at me. Look at me!” He did. “I don’t care what you think or why you do it, but I don’t want you talking to him again.” He started to interrupt, but I cut him off. “Not because I’m jealous or because I’m worried that he’ll take you away from me, but because of you. Because of what he’s doing to you. No one should ever have to deal with that. I don’t care if you think you made him like that or if you think that he needs this to get over you. You need to stop thinking you make people into anything they don’t want to be. He’s angry, Otter. He’s pissed the hell off, and if you keep talking to him, it’s only going to continue like that forever. I won’t allow that.” My voice dropped down into a growl. “No one will ever talk to you like that, not while I’m around.” His eyes flashed at this, and I saw a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re mine, you hear me? Mine. I swear to Christ if he as much as thinks about coming here, or calling to mess with you again, then he will have to answer to me. Do you understand? Do you understand me, Otter? I fucking love you, and no one will ever do that to you again.”
I felt hot and sweaty, and his eyes flashed again, and the grin was there, angry and proud, and it was mine. It was for me. He jumped at me, and I caught him in my arms and crushed him into me, and he cried. He cried into me like I had done into him time and time again, and I rocked him, I swayed him, I whispered to him, “Mine, you’re mine,” and he let it all out.
By the time he was done, we were both trembling, we were both quaking. My gorge tossed and turned, and I pulled him tighter into me. When finally his sobs subsided, he pulled back and kissed me. I felt his swollen face press against mine, and the ferocity of his kiss made me start to shake again as he pressed me up against the glass, and suddenly we both had too much clothing on, and then it was gone, and we rocked together, and he bit my shoulder as I sucked on his neck, and as I threw my head back and arched into him, I heard him groaning, “Mine, mine, mine,” and I picked it up, and it became a chant until we were both growling and spitting and our cocks were in his hand, and we came at the same time, and I swear to God, the concrete shook and rolled and finally cracked beneath us.
Mine.
THE next time Jonah called, Otter didn’t pick up.
11.
Where Bear Is Forced
into the Ocean
“I DO not!” I growl, looking down at Otter, who’s grinning up at me from his perch on my chest.