Page 42 of Coming to Grips
Chapter Fourteen
Chase stumbles into the bathroom and showers as instructed. The hot water warms him up physically, but the cold inside of him fails to dissipate. He’s hurt the one person he loves above all others.
He should do his physical therapy, but he’s cold, achy, and exhausted. His arm hurts, his head hurts, his hearts hurts. Guilty and at a loss as to what to do, he can’t deal with any of it until he’s had more sleep. That much he knows. Chase burrows into his bed and forces his mind black and blank until sleep finally overtakes him.
Chase wakens to the sound of hammering and, ugh, someone’s repairing something or another. The events of last night and this morning come back in a stampede of emotions. Ones he doesn’t want to experience. But he deserves them—every single one of them. And just like the earth after the pummeling of thousands of hooves, he feels battered and bruised. Again or still, he’s not sure which. Fear, embarrassment, remorse, dread, confusion, have all been stirred up and pounded into one large lump of jerk.
It’d been nine-ish when he’d crashed, and it’s almost one now. He cocks his head to listen. No sound trickles in from the living room, so Kyle’s gone. Not that Chase blames him. Chase wouldn’t want to be around someone who’d said the horrible things he’d said either. Kyle needs his space. Chase needs to come up with an apology befitting the crime. He drags himself from bed and wanders into the living room.
Kyle’s bedroom door is ajar. A quick peek out the blinds tells him Kyle’s definitely gone. Chase pushes into Kyle’s room and sits on the bed where they’d done things—hot things, tender things, loving things. Did they count as lovemaking? Despite what he’d said out loud at the bar in front of witnesses, he does actually love Kyle the way he should have loved Anna. Deeply and forever. White picket fence and a dog love. Maybe a kid or two. Kyle never talks about them, but, then again, he hasn’t been in a serious relationship in...Chase considers it...several years.
Realization pours over him like a bucket of ice water. Kyle has harbored feelings for him for years apparently—he loves you, you dolt.Oh God, oh God, oh God... That makes Chase’s behavior even more unforgivable.
He curls an arm over his gut and bends over against the ache.
How had he not recognized Kyle’s feelings until now?
Well, why would you?
Chase had been in a relationship with a woman for almost four years until a month and a half ago. Men have never been on his radar as potential romantic interests ever. Kyle has never said or done anything until Chase had gotten hurt. Until a couple of weeks ago in the shower.
A bullet point list of everything Kyle’s done forms in his head.
He showed up at the hospital despite his intense loathing for them.
He’d volunteered to help Chase in whatever capacity he needed. Luckily, it hadn’t been as intensive as it could have been.
He’d bailed on his first-ever sci-fi con that he’d saved for and looked forward to for months in order to be on call for Chase.
He’d cooked, actuallycooked, for Chase.
He’d tied Chase’s sneakers for single-handed putting on.
And despite his hurt and anger, Kyle came looking for him this morning when, by all rights, he should have left him to suffer on the cold hard dirt floor of a horse stall.
Chase is a fucking moron.
He’s hurt his best friend.
He might have ruined their relationship.
He might have lost the chance at something special.
Dammit.
Chase wanders back into the living room.I don’t feel gaywhirls around and around in his head. He picks up the remote and sets it down.
He doesn’t feel gay—whatever that might feel like. Chase doesn’t feel, nor has he ever felt, the way Kyle had confessed to feeling about his sexuality back in high school.
Chase picks up a throw pillow, slaps it against his leg, and drops it back into Kyle’s chair.
Images of the various girls and women he’s dated over the years float through Chase’s mind. How had he felt with them?
Fine, good. Nothing special. He’d liked them, but hadn’t ever been head over heels for any of them. Had never wanted to be near any of them twenty-four/seven.
Like he did with Kyle. He hadn’t even wanted to spend that much time Anna.
He’d never wanted to share his most intimate, personal thoughts with them.
