“Did I tell you about my aunt?” Lizzy asked. “Her husband died a few years ago, and she was all alone at home with my cousin, who had moved back after college. My cousin started dating a guy in Boston, and eventually moved up to New England to be with him.”
“Wait, is this your cousin Paul?” I asked. “He’sgay?”
Lizzy nodded. “The way he came out is a really good story, and I’ll tell you another time. But the point here is that him moving awaycrushedmy aunt. She never forgave him. Not for being gay—she was fine with that. But for moving away. She said he had abandoned her.”
I winced. “You said that was a few years ago. She’s probably doing better now, right?”
“She adopted eight cats,” Lizzy said, deadpan. “She’s a hoarder now. Entire house is filled with cardboard boxes of junk. Old magazines, dead batteries, you name it. You can barely even walk around in her house. It’s really sad.”
I groaned. “You’re not helping convince me to tell Brad about everything.”
“It was worse because Paul was at home for a while first,” Lizzy explained. “My aunt got used to him being there, and became dependent on him. If he had left sooner, my aunt probably would have coped better. So what I’m saying is that you should tell Brad as soon as possible.”
A customer sat down, and I took his beer order. While drawing the beer from the tap, I turned back to Lizzy and said, “I’m almost afraid we’ve waited too long. We’ve been hiding it from him. Hunter has been lying about his fiancée. Don’t you think he’ll be mad?”
“All the more reason to rip the Band-Aid offnow,” Lizzy insisted. “Before it gets worse.”
I thought about that during my shift. I knew she was right. But doing what was right wasn’t always easy.
Maybe I’ll tell him tonight, after work.
I didn’t tell him that night. I chickened out the next morning, too, and then in the afternoon before work. When I arrived at the brewery, the first thing Lizzy asked me was if I had told him.
I pretended like I hadn’t heard her. She pursed her lips and shook her head.
Halfway through my shift, I got a text from Hunter. When I opened it, I immediately gasped. It was a photo taken from Hunter’s point of view, aimed down at his crotch. He wasn’t wearing any clothes. His manhood was stiff and long, and he gripped it down by the base.
Hunter: This is how hard I am thinking about you.
I quickly looked around to make sure nobody near me had seen the photo over my shoulder. With my back to the tap wall, I formed my reply.
Erica: Oh. My. Goodness.
Erica: I hope your camera isn’t rolling. YouTube would probably suspend you.
Erica: Not for nudity—for brandishing a weapon. You could club someone to death with that thing!
Hunter: LOL, that’s the strangest compliment my penis has ever gotten. But it means more coming from you.
Erica: I wish it were coming ON me, not FROM me.
Hunter: Then you’re going to like what I have to say next. Brad is going out to get drinks with work friends. He just left. He won’t be back for at least two hours.
Hunter: Can you think of something for me to do with all that alone time?
Erica: UGH. I wish I wasn’t working!
Lizzy came over and said, “What’s got you grinning like an idiot?”
“Hunter just texted me. My brother is gone for a few hours. Of course this happens once I’m at work, rather than when I’m at home!”
“You should leave!” Lizzy suggested.
I bit my lip. “I don’t know. I don’t like bailing on a shift…”
“We’re not that busy, and I can cover the bar without you,” she insisted. “Just tell Charlie that you’re sick. Or blame it onwoman problems.”
I looked at my phone again.