Page 4 of Besties
I pushed away from the desk and stood, my fists clenched tightly at my sides. “You’re really not going to say anything?”
He sighed and closed the book, then turned to me and crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you want me to say? What response would make you happy?”
I wish I knew. I realized I had to be truthful with him, but in honesty, I wasn’t sure if I would lose my friend.
He opened his arms. “Do you need a hug?”
I so did. It would be nice to say I stepped into this arms, but the reality was I threw myself at him. He snatched me up like I weighed nothing and I buried my face in his chest.
“Please say you don’t hate me.”
He leaned back and peered down into my eyes. “Is that what’s got you so worried?”
I nodded because I couldn’t form words to save my life.
“I could never hate you. You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. You became a friend when I got here, and you never once gave me any reason to doubt you. Please don’t do that to me now.” He rubbed a hand over my back, and the slow, gentle movement calmed me. “I know you were scared, but you never have to be afraid to talk to me, okay? I’ll always be your friend, no matter what.”
The knots in my stomach loosened as I breathed in his nerdy scent. That smell of textbook, Old Spice, and the Role Playing Game oils I bought him for his birthday two years before. He put a hand on the back of my head and held me still. I wondered what he’d say if he knew just breathing him in calmed me.
“You okay now?”
I nodded.
He turned me loose, then sat back at the desk with a wide smile. “Now, back to the fascinating world of a snake’s reproductive cycle.”
And just like that, with the discussion turning to snake dongs, things were right with my world again. Richie didn’t hate me, he didn’t care that I was gay, and I was always going to be his best friend.
And now, Richie was coming to see me tomorrow. I couldn’t wait.
Chapter2
Richie didn’t even stopat the luggage carousel before he strode toward me, his arms wide. After everything with the cops, my ex, and the suspicious looks I’d gotten from so-called friends, I was done in. The thing was, I hesitated. Richie’s smile was open and friendly, but I needed to be sure there wasn’t censure in his gaze. If he rejected me, I had no idea what I’d do.
“Hey, don’t stand there,” he called. “Come here and let me squeeze you.”
Still I didn’t move. I couldn’t. So he took the choice out of my hands by sweeping toward me, scooping me up in his arms, and lifting me off the ground. He hugged me tight, and I soaked it in.
“Why are you so scared?”
I wished I knew. I trusted him with my life, but to think he might still reject me left me numb inside. He tightened his grip and put his lips next to my ear.
“Is this what you need, Max? Someone to hold you together so you won’t fly apart?”
Yes! That was exactly what I needed. I’d always thought I had a solid grip on my life, even though it had taken a different path than I’d expected. My college career had been decent, but undistinguished. Until this crap with Jesse came up, I worked in an office as one of a hundred other people. Oh, my work was praised, and I was given out-of-town assignments when a new office was opening. No one was more organized than me, apparently, but I was still a drone. It was fine, I liked the work, and it paid me enough to find a nice place.
Then I remembered everything I’d lost. My bosses thought I might need time to deal with my issues, and by taking time, they meant see you around. And my landlord, Mrs. Balmor, had problems with drugs being sold in her building, and even though I was innocent of all charges…. Yeah, she gave me until the end of the month to get out, and that was only because she’d liked me once.
“What am I going to do?” I whispered, my throat raw. I wasn’t expecting an answer. It was more for me than anyone else.
“You’re going to let me help you. We’ll get through this, but it’s going to be by working together. When’s the last time you ate?”
Ate? Shit. “I think I had a donut the other day. I haven’t really been hungry.”
Putting me back down, Richie slipped an arm around my shoulder and led me to where his luggage whirled around on the black conveyer belt. “Okay, first thing we’re going to do is get some food. Then you’re going to tell me everything from start to finish. Once we have it all out in the open, we’re going to sort this whole mess and get you squared away.”
How strange was it? In school, I’d been the athletic one, the guy who was in charge, while Richie sat in the stands and watched me. But somewhere along the line, a shift in our roles occurred, and I ended up following Richie.
“Where’s your car?”
