Heath held up a hand in front of his face. “Didn’t need the visual. Thanks.”
“So? Are you going to pop us some popcorn? This is movie night, right?”
“As milady commands.” He bowed. I followed him into the kitchen, and he plopped a bag of popcorn into the microwave while I grabbed a bottle of beer out of the fridge for him and a mineral water for me.
I was settled on the couch, remote in hand, when he showed up with the bowl of salty, buttery goodness. I began scrolling through the options listed. “So what are we in the mood for? Classic rerun? Marvel blockbuster? Romcom?”
Heath snorted at the last choice. “As if.”
“How about the latest Jack Eversea action flick? He’s so hot.”
“Watched it last week.”
“Oh, okay.” I bit my lip and sent him a look out of the corner of my eye. “Well, here’s a travel documentary on Dublin.”
Heath stiffened next to me, but didn’t say anything. Ugh…real smooth move, Mia. About as subtle as a hand grenade in a frilly doily tea shop.
I chanced a glance at him, and when I caught his eye, he said, “Something with lots of car chases and explosions.”
I shook my head and tsked. “Such a boy.”
But I didn’t scroll away from that Dublin travel show. We both sat and stared at the screen. “Have you…heard from him lately?”
Heath grabbed an impossibly huge fist of popcorn and shoved it in his face, crunching loudly. I waited.
Finally, once he’d swallowed down the mess, he shoved the bowl at my chest, and I took it. “No,” he muttered.
“He’s busy.” I shrugged. “I’m sure if you Skyped—”
“His mother’s house has shitty Internet, and he can’t seem to find the privacy he requires to Skype me from an Internet café. He’s not out of the closet in Ireland, and I’m sure the world will end if anyone in his circle finds out he’s been carrying on with an American man.” Heath’s voice was dry, emotionless, edged dark and as bitter as pure unsweetened chocolate.
“Not everyone is as brave as you are, Heath. It took a giant pair of balls to risk what you did—given how your parents are. And you were only sixteen when you came out.”
Heath took a long pull from his beer, but didn’t say anything.
“You should go to Ireland.”
“No,” he answered quickly.
“Why not?”
“If he can’t even bring himself to Skype me in private, how the hell do you think he’s going to handle me showing up at his door? With his very Catholic mother hovering over his shoulder and his six younger siblings all crowded around him? I’m not going to force his hand, Mia. I’m not going to force anyone to go through what I went through when I came out. And I’m most definitely not going to force someone out of the closet.”
I shook my head. “Of course not. But can’t you just be his friend? Go to Ireland and be there for him while he mourns the loss of his dad and gets his family back on their feet again?”
Heath’s jaw tensed, and he looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “If he wanted me there, he’d ask.”
I turned to him, plunking the bowl of popcorn onto the couch between us. “Heath, he wants you there. I know he does.”
“Oh?” His entire body tensed. “You have an in with Connor that I don’t know about?”
Shifting to face him, I took a deep breath. “I called him last week, yeah. Wanted to give him my condolences. We sent a basket, and I followed up to see how he and his family are doing. He’s my friend, too. And he asked about you. In detail.”
Heath scowled. “Then why are you asking me how he’s doing? You have more recent news than I do.”
“He misses you.”
Silence.
“And you miss him.”
He muttered something and rubbed the back of his neck. “And your point is?”
“Heath! Don’t be a stubborn idiot. Take it from someone who almost lost the man I love because I was a stubborn idiot. You were a firsthand witness to that catastrophe. Please learn from my mistake and don’t repeat it with Connor. Go to Ireland. I know you have the time off.”
“I’m saving those vacation days for your wedding.”
Oh. Shit.
I sucked in a breath and let it go. “You have my permission to skip my wedding.”
He looked at me like I was insane, folding his thick arms over his broad chest. “Oh really?”
I swallowed a sudden lump in my throat. The thought of him not being there when we got married made me almost nauseated and want to spontaneously burst into tears. But…it was a sacrifice I could gladly make for his happiness. “Yes, really. We’ll take lots of pictures. I can video-chat you right after. It’s okay.”
“No. It’s not. I’m not missing your wedding. At the very least, I have to make sure you get there in one piece and fucking get married already. It’s taken you two long enough.”
“Heath.” I shook his shoulder. “You need to go get Connor.”
“I can’t get him if he doesn’t want to be gotten.” That powerful shoulder turned to rock under my hand. “He’s staying in Ireland.”
I blinked. “Temporarily—”
“No. He’s looking for a job. He didn’t tell you? He needs to make money to help out with the family. He’s got young siblings still.”
“That’s…” I shook my head. “That’s so sad.”
“He doesn’t seem sad.” He shrugged off my hand. “He probably wasn’t that into me.”
I shook my head. “I was there at the airport when you said goodbye. He sobbed, Heath. Don’t say he’s not that into you. That’s bullshit. When I talked to him last week—”
Without warning, Heath’s huge hand swatted down, batting the bowl of popcorn off the couch to bounce off the wall below where the TV hung. Popcorn scattered everywhere—the floor, bouncing off the wall, raining down on the coffee table.
Heath was on his feet, shouting, “Goddamn it, Mia! Don’t fucking preach to me. You messed up your own life and made it a shit show. You got lucky and everything’s fixed. Now you think we all can follow suit?”
I sucked in a breath, sitting back, breathless, as if he’d punched me in the stomach. It took a moment of stunned silence and vigorous blinking through my own hurt to remember that Heath was wounded and he was striking out at me because he could. Because I was a safe punching bag. And he had nowhere else to vent.