Page 7 of Ancient History

“What happened between you two?” Julian asked.

“You never heard the story?” Everett raised his eyebrows.

“Just that Amos and Hutch dated in high school and then broke up.”

“That’s the story I heard, too,” Chase added.

“They were closeted star-crossed lovers,” Everett said with flourish. “Amos was the pale, meek nerd at the bottom of the social totem pole.”

“I was shy, not meek.”

Everett held up a hand. “Please. I’m telling this story.” He cleared his throat. “Hutch was the uber-popular jock. Both were closeted, but they found each other, against all odds. For two years, they dated in secret. For two years, they communicated in secret through a complex network of stealth notes and backseat blow jobs.”

Lord. I slumped down in the booth. Was there a hole I could crawl into?

“Until one day, Hutch was all ‘No thanks’ and ditched Amos for a large-breasted cheerleader.” Everett cut his eyes to me. “How’d I do?”

Everett’s flair for the dramatic knew no bounds.

“Her breasts were average, but aside from that…you hit the major beats.” I shrugged, trying to stay cool about my heartbreak being given the Broadway treatment. Tale as old as time, right?

Gay nerd falls for closeted jock.

Jock wedges himself into the nerd’s heart…and other body parts.

Nerd stupidly thinks that this wonderful, incredible thing they have is love.

Nerd is so wrong it hurts.

Cue tears.

“I’m sorry, Amos.” Julian rubbed my forearm. “You never forget your first love.”

“Or your first locker combination.”

We all looked at Chase.

“It’s true. They’ve done studies. But I can see how that’s not helpful to bring up.” Chase shoved a loaded fry into his mouth. His non-sequitur brought a needed smile to my lips. I loved my weird, nerdy friends.

“Did he look the same?” Julian asked. “From what you remember?”

“Yeah, about the same.”

Kidding. He looked hotter. Goddamn him and his more mature body. Taller, broader, stubblier. He was heftier now, more muscle versus his lean self in high school. He looked like a man. A man I could climb.

I didn’t want Chase to chime in with his scientific theorems on this one. “He’s still…conventionally attractive.”

“That’s a diplomatic way of saying fuckable.” Everett’s sharp tongue had no boundaries.

And now I was thinking of his fuckableness.

Fuck.

“It doesn’t matter what he looks like.” It was on the inside that counted, and at his core, I knew what kind of guy Hutch was. Hutch was a guy who left. “I’m not going down that path.”

I put my beer bottle to my lips like I was a baby in desperate need of being fed. The rank taste of the alcohol helped wash away any ambivalent feelings about Hutch.

It didn’t matter that he was still hot. It didn’t matter that we were working together.

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