After wandering toward the back, we found an empty booth and slid in, taking opposite sides the way we’d done a thousand times before. A young woman came by to take our drink orders and left as soon as we’d spouted off our favorite beers.
“Besides,” Julian continued, “I don’t have any sorrows to drown. I’d already decided to break things off with Nolan tomorrow before I left for Aster Valley.” He hesitated before looking down at the beer mat the server had left and flicking it between his hands. “The only reason I hadn’t was because I wanted him here as my plus-one. I didn’t want to be single for the wedding.”
His voice was so low, I could barely hear what he was saying. I reached across and used my finger to tilt up his chin. When those baby blues locked onto me, I felt the same warm surge of affection I’d always felt for him.
“Why the fuck not? You know nobody gives a shit except maybe your mom, and that’s only because she wants little gay Jules babies since Hazel’s too busy with her job to ever start a family.”
He shoved my hand away. “Fuck you. You’ve been dating Erin on and off for a hundred years. You have no idea what it’s like to go to a wedding as a single guy. It’s the most depressing thing on Earth. Especially when your two best friends are the ones getting hitched and all the heteronormative bullshit is flowing more freely than the champagne.”
His words made my stomach hurt. I never, ever wanted him to feel alone. Not when he had me. Not when he had Erin and Hazel and Tiller. We would always be his ride or die.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “You’re right. I don’t know what it’s like. But I do know that if all you wanted was a date for this weekend, I could’ve found you a much better guy than Nolan.”
Julian snorted, and it took a little of the worry off my shoulders. “Like who?” he asked, leaning back and crossing his arms in front of his chest. He’d taken off his suit jacket and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. I could see the barest hint of the tattoo that adorned the left side of his chest and almost up to his throat. People were always surprised to learn my little geeky friend was secretly covered in some killer ink, but whenever his tank top revealed it at the gym, the gay guys were always all over him.
Drove me nuts. Only because it interfered with our workouts.
I snapped my fingers. “Layton from the gym.”
Julian’s jaw dropped. “Layton who’s married to Rick and has two little kids?”
“Oh.” I put some more thought into it. “I got it! Sex Pants from the coffee shop.”
Julian laughed again and flushed pink in the cheeks. Bingo. I knew he’d had eyes for that guy.
“His name is Michael, and he makes a living doing OnlyFans stuff. I’m not sure that’s for me.”
I flashed a big smile for our server when she showed up with the beers. “Thanks a ton. Hey, you guys have anything like nachos this late?”
Julian groaned. “Seriously? It’s after midnight. We had a full dinner.”
I ignored him and batted my eyelashes at the server. She laughed and agreed to put an order in for us. I thanked her before looking back at Julian.
“What’s the problem with selling fans? Since when are you a snob about a guy’s job?”
Julian blinked at me. “Only… OnlyFans… the website? You know what? Never mind. Drink your beer and maybe stop flirting with the waitress since you’re getting married tomorrow.”
I took a long sip of my beer before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “You’re very grumpy tonight. Maybe it’s not too late to try and get Sex Pants out here from Denver.”
Julian kicked my shin under the table, but he laughed.
And that was all I needed to finally let go of the nerves.
I was with Julian, and everything was going to be okay. Everything was always okay when I was with him. He would take care of everything like he always did.
2
JULIAN
If there was a record for how long you could carry a torch for the wrong person, I thought for sure I’d be appearing in the Guinness Book any day now.
Parker Ellis was the man everyone wanted. It had been that way my whole life. When we were seven, the tee ball coach wanted him on the team. “Julian, ask your friend Parker if his parents want to sign him up.”
When we were thirteen, the girls playing chicken in the neighborhood pool all wanted him to be their partner because he was already taller than the rest of us. When we were sixteen, they wanted him between their legs for a different reason, and their parents wanted him cutting their lawns since he’d do it for cheap. When we were almost seventeen, our other best friend—Erin—wanted him to take her to homecoming “as a friend.”