Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 161257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 806(@200wpm)___ 645(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 806(@200wpm)___ 645(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
* * * * *
Max loosened another bolt on the base of the pillory. Three more and it’d be time to move it back to the playroom. He shifted slightly atop the platform and got busy working on the next one.
“Max. We need to talk.”
Max paused but didn’t turn around, just grit his teeth. The fact that Scott sounded angry only made Max more so. Not that he’d cooled down a whole hell of a lot. The image of Scott and Tad was still riding him. “Yeah. We do. You’d better go first.”
Otherwise, Max might go demon on his ass.
“You were a complete fucking asshole to Tad. My guest. He didn’t deserve that shit, and neither did I.”
Max clutched his wrench tighter. “So I’m an asshole for calling him out, for trying to open your eyes to the truth.”
“No. You’re an asshole for being such a dick. Tact much, bro? My God.”
“Yeah, well, sue me. I’d just been double-blindsided. First, because you’d clearly just fucked your supposed “friend.” Then the discovery that said “friend” was a fucking closet. I was floored, Scott. Floored. That you, the one person who knows about my past, had the gall to bring that guy into our house.”
A heavy sigh sounded from somewhere by the doorway. “It’s not what you think, Max. Tad’s not what you think.”
Max chuckled sardonically. “Oh, really? Is he out?”
Scott hesitated. “No.”
“Then he’s exactly what I think.”
Scott growled and headed over, the platform shifting when he sat. Max scowled and got back to working that bolt, suddenly no longer wanting to talk.
“He’s not a closet, Max. I told you. It’s complicated.”
Was he seriously still using the complicated card? Slamming his wrench down, Max abruptly turned around. “Either he’s out or he’s not, Scott. Nothing complicated about it.”
Scott shook his head. “You’re wrong. You don’t understand. It’s not that black and white. Tad’s situation is… different.”
Max’s blood started to boil again. He stared at his friend. “You take me for an idiot, bro? You think I can’t see what he is? Goddamn. It was written all over his face. The fear. The cowardice. The ingrained instinct to duck and run. He’s a goddamn closet, Scott, no matter how you fucking spin it. And I do not want his ass in my house.”
Scott’s eyes flickered angrily. “It’s my house, too.”
Max pursed his lips and turned away. Jesus. Scott was sleeping with his worst fucking enemy. Max exhaled and closed his eyes, resting his brow against the pillory. “Why are you doing this? Bringing a guy like that here?”
A soft, frustrated sound resounded in the quiet. “I’m not, Max. I mean it. I know how you feel about them. But I swear it, Tad isn’t a closet case. He’s a… late bloomer.”
Max’s brows dipped incredulously as he looked back at Scott. “A late bloomer. At his age. Bull fucking shit.”
Scott held his stare. “I’m serious. It’s crazy, but it’s true.”
Max frowned. “But you said he likes gay sex. You telling me that wasn’t a big enough clue? A red flag that maybe he wasn’t fucking straight?”
“He likes gay sex with me. But before me, before the night we first met, he’d never even been with a guy.”
“The night of The Wall? That was his first freaking time?”
Scott looked a little sheepish. “Back then I thought he wasn’t out yet, either… That he just needed a little incentive.”
Max’s lips fell open.
“Don’t get me wrong. He did like it. A lot. But he’s been struggling ever since. I see it in his eyes. How he’s fighting to come to terms. Grappling with a side of himself that he never knew existed.” Scott leveled Max with a look. “He’s a really good guy, Max. He just needs some time to adjust.”
Uh huh. Time to adjust. The age-old excuse. Tad probably said that shit to Scott every fucking time they hung out.
“And just how much time do you plan on giving him?”
Scott shrugged. “As much as he needs, I guess. He’s worth it to me. I like him.”
“You like him,” Max muttered.
“Yeah. He makes me laugh.” Scott’s lips curved warmly. “He makes me happy.”
Max watched him warily. He had a bad feeling about this. Tad may not technically be a closet case yet, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t become one. Guilty until proven innocent, that was Max’s motto. Especially regarding those “struggling” with their identity. Unlike Tad, Kevin hadn’t been confused about his orientation, but he sure as shit “struggled” with fucking owning it. It was only a matter of time before Tad’s true colors showed. Scott clearly believed that the good ones would prevail. Max, however, was pretty low on faith.
Less than reassured, he scratched his cheek. “I thought he wanted to be just friends. Why the sudden change of heart?”
Scott shrugged a little. “I dunno exactly, but I’m not complaining. He wants to hang out again. Next week.”