Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
“No worries.” He handed him the sandwich, eyeing him warily. “You okay? Still have a lot on your mind?”
He sighed as he cracked open the soda that had been sitting untouched on his desk. He honestly didn’t know why Neil hung in there with him. “Sorry if I’ve been a shitty friend.”
“Nah, it’s okay. But I’m here if you want to talk.”
“Thank you. Just…things at home…” And then he couldn’t hold back anymore. He had no other adult to confide in besides Rhys. And Rhys was pretty much out of the question right then until Emerson got his thoughts in better order. “Before my friend’s accident, we…”
Neil quirked an eyebrow. “Had a thing?”
“God no.” He dipped his head as heat burst across his cheeks. He was essentially coming out to his friend, who obviously already had an inkling. “I was just discovering my own sexuality…”
“You mean you’re not straight?” Neil grinned as Emerson was flooded with relief. Who knew it would feel so good to get some shit off his chest. Without a doubt, he held on to stuff way too tightly. Why not share the load with someone who was willing to listen and was acting like a real friend?
“I think I’m probably demi?”
“Ah.” He chewed a bite of his turkey sandwich. “That actually makes a ton of sense.”
He bit back a gasp. “It does?” How was that possible when he couldn’t figure it out for himself for so long? But Neil was always well-read and pretty smart about a ton of things. He was a really interesting person if Emerson would only learn to appreciate him as a friend.
“Sounds like you fell for your best friend.” Neil shrugged, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “And if I had to guess… Never mind. I don’t want to overstep.”
Emerson wiped his mouth with a napkin. “No, go ahead. I’d like your opinion.”
“Okay…well, I’m wondering if something happened before his accident that maybe…” He winced. “He can’t remember now?”
Emerson’s mouth fell open. He felt so transparent. And so seen. “Fuck, you’re good at this.”
Neil chuckled. “Maybe I should go into psychology instead?”
Emerson motioned with his hand. “Or detective work.”
Damn, it felt good to laugh. His gut didn’t feel quite so hollowed out.
“So what’s the problem, besides the obvious?” Neil asked as he balled up his wrapper and shot it into the garbage can near the desk.
“It was a huge deal after being friends for so long and living across the street from each other our entire lives. We kissed, and then he ran out on me after Audrey walked in on us, and we never got the chance to have a conversation about what it all meant. All I know is that he freaked and left, and I can’t help wondering if he bailed on me because he didn’t feel the same.” Agony lanced through him, but he pushed on. “And when he woke up from his accident and I realized he had no memory of that night, that he looked at me like he normally did, as a friend…” He trailed off, shaking the memory from his head even though it still made his heart throb.
“Ouch. So painful.” Neil’s eyes held empathy as he reached over to pat his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. It was totally a shitty situation.” He took a breath, confident that how he’d handled the news was for the best. “So I just focused on him getting well and not overwhelming him with too many details because it was tough on him—tough to lose an entire year of your life.”
Neil nodded. “So you took him in while he recovered. Then helped him again when the lightning struck his tree.”
“Exactly. What any friend would do.” He winced. “Having him around all the time was pretty heartrending at first. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
He was finally admitting it, and fuck, the relief was like lifting a heavy blanket off his shoulders. And then he told Neil the meat of the problem, the very thing that was beautiful and awful all at once. “Then something happened between us this weekend.”
Neil smiled a sad little smile, and Emerson didn’t want to imagine what that meant. It made him question whether telling him was a good idea. After all, he had just spent time with Neil that weekend as well, and he’d thought they had come to an understanding.
He was glad Neil didn’t push for details—that would’ve made it more awkward—and instead respected his privacy by reading between the lines. “That was good, though, right?”
“It was, until…”
His eyebrows knitted together. “Until?”
“Until I found out that Audrey told him that we…you know.” He shook his head, unwilling to recreate all the particulars.
“And now you don’t know what’s real? Or how he truly feels because of all the unfinished business? Sort of like, which came first, the chicken or the egg?”