Page 40 of Coming to Grips
Tyler chuckles. “Yeah, right. That’s why you showed up at my door in the middle of the night. So...?”
“I think Chase is what some call pansexual. He’s attracted to certain qualities about people. Loyalty, compassion, whatever. He’s attracted to a person, not necessarily a gender.”
Tyler snorts. “So what’s he see in you?”
“Fuck you,” Kyle says again, although there’s no heat in it. They’ve known each other a long time.
“All right, go on. Pansexual...?”
“I did a boatload of reading when I came out. I keep up as the field of sexual orientation evolves. I’ve thought about going back to school and writing a fucking thesis on it.”
Tyler’s laugh echoes in the small kitchen. “I really miss your sense of humor.” He takes another drink of his coffee and Kyle finishes his waffles. “So you and Chase...?”
“Chase and I, we...” Kyle’s at a loss. Made love sounds so romantic and official. While it’d been good, great even, it wasn’t making love.
Wasn’t it?
He closes his eyes and sighs. It was definitely more than a fuck or a roll in the hay. His chest constricts, and he gazes into the buttery, syrupy goo on his plate. “I thought he was attracted to me, thought he wanted to be with me. We fooled around, more than fooled around.”
“So what happened at the bar?” Tyler’s voice goes quiet.
Kyle shrugs. “His ex said something to him. I don’t know what. Next thing I know, Chase is proclaiming that we’re only best friends and that’s all we’ll ever be.” Just thinking about it brings back the stab of pain, the white-hot hurt, the crushing grip of betrayal.
Tyler’s hand covers his, his blue eyes soft and sympathetic. “That wasn’t about you or his feelings for you at all, you realize?”
“Of course it was. It was like some experiment he tried or something and it failed.”
Tyler rolls his eyes. “Mr. I-could-write-a-thesis, your very real, very justified hurt is clouding your judgment.”
“He said flat out—”
“I know what he said, Kyle. But let’s think about things from his perspective for a moment.”
“I don’t want to think about things from his perspective. I want to be mad.”
Tyler lifts his mug in acknowledgment. “And so you should be, but when you’re done being mad, you need to forgive him.”
“Why?”
“Because you love him.” Tyler’s tone rises on the last word, turning his statement into a question.
Kyle closes his eyes, hangs his head, and sighs. “God help me, but yeah.”
“Is he the one?”
Kyle lifts his gaze to meet Tyler’s. “Why do you think you and I didn’t work out?” he asks softly.
“That long, huh?”
“Not consciously, but looking back? Yeah.”
“Well, congrats.”
“A little premature, don’t you think?”
Tyler laughs again. “Are you ready to walk away and never look back?”
“Hell, no.”
