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Feeling guilty with every word he typed, Jeremy sent Stephen an apologetic email saying he couldn’t make it to the wedding because of a work conflict. A short while later, Stephen sent him a disappointed but polite response telling him he was sorry he couldn’t make it.
Jeremy’s guilt multiplied.
As the day continued, Jeremy tried not to think of Evan but found it impossible. His mind whirled with scenarios of Evan and this Chris guy together. He had the following day off work, which just made him stew, and he was a grumpy bastard when he went back to work.
A few days after the call from Evan, as Jeremy was in the middle of heating dinner, there was a knock on his door. He frowned and answered it, expecting to find a pizza delivery person with a wrong address. He was entirely unprepared to see Russ Bishop on the other side.
“Uhh, hey, Russ,” he managed, trying to hide his surprise as he plastered a smile on his face.
Russ nodded, but he didn’t smile. “I want to talk.”
Jeremy raised an eyebrow but stepped back, holding out a hand to indicate Russ should come in. “Sure, why the hell not? Hope you don’t mind if I eat while you talk. I was about to have dinner.”
Russ joined him inside the apartment. “That’s fine.”
Jeremy offered Russ something to drink, but he declined it, and they were silent as they sat at the rarely used kitchen table while Jeremy let his microwave dinner cool.
“So what’s this about?” he finally asked.
With a sigh, Russ sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. He was impressively fit, and Jeremy had a moment where he acknowledged that Stephen had made a major upgrade in his life by moving on from himself to Russ. Just like Evan is probably doing with Chris, he thought bitterly.
“Why aren’t you coming to the wedding? Stephen and I both know the work thing is bullshit.”
Surprised by Russ’ directness, Jeremy only managed an inarticulate sound of confusion at first. “Well ... I ...” With a sigh, he gave up. “Look, it’s complicated.”
Russ shrugged. “Most things in life are.”
Jeremy gave him a wry smile. “Fair enough.”
“Come on, Jeremy, don’t bullshit me. Just tell me the reason.”
Jeremy rubbed his forehead for a second. “Why do you care? I’d think you wouldn’t want me there.”
“I don’t.” Russ gave him a level look. “When Stephen first mentioned inviting you, I wasn’t happy about it, but he wants you there. He’s happier now that he’s let go of his guilt over your accident, and I think your friendship has been good for him. If he wants you there, then you should be there.”
“You’re a better man than I am,” Jeremy admitted. “And way better for Stephen.”
“I’m not going to argue with that,” Russ said, his lips twisting up in a half-smile. Jeremy laughed in spite of himself, but he sobered after a moment.
“Stephen wants me there that much?”
Russ nodded. “He doesn’t have any of his own family, and although he has friends ... I don’t know. It’s different somehow. Stephen seems incredibly disappointed that you won’t be there, but he’ll never say that himself. If it’s actually a work thing, I think he’ll understand, but otherwise, he’s going to be pretty hurt.”
“Shit.” Jeremy dragged a hand through his hair. “Look, I am happy for you guys, and I’d like to be there to see you guys get hitched, but I don’t drive. I had planned to ride with Evan but now ...”
Scowling, Russ’s glare pinned him in place. “Yeah, Evan told me what happened.”
Jeremy shook his head. “Don’t bother to try to make me feel like shit. I already do.”
Russ leaned forward. “You guys obviously care about each other. What’s the problem?”
Jeremy’s smile was bitter. “I’m hardly anyone’s idea of a prize, Russ. Evan deserves better than what I can offer him.” It galled him to admit his shortcomings aloud to someone like Russ. Someone handsome and perfect and everything Jeremy would never be again. “Besides, he’s clearly already moved on.”
“With who? Oh, the guy he met at the park.” Russ’ shrug was dismissive. “Yeah, they went out a few times, but I don’t think it’s serious.”
Hope rose so hard and fast, Jeremy nearly choked on it, but he had to remind himself it didn’t change anything. “He still deserves better than a crippled has-been like me,” Jeremy said bitterly.
Russ rolled his eyes. “Look, I think you’re being way too hard on yourself, but that’s between you two, and if you want to be together, you’ll have to work all that shit out. All I’m saying is don’t underestimate Evan’s feelings for you. He’s hurt, but if you still want him, I am sure he’ll forgive you.”
“I was trying to avoid hurting him,” Jeremy pointed out.
“Well, you did anyway.”
“I know. I thought I was doing what was best for him but now I feel like it backfired on me.” Jeremy sighed heavily.
Russ’ tone was serious, his gaze searching. “Do you regret letting Evan go?”
“I’ve never regretted anything so much in my life.” The words slipped out before Jeremy could think twice. “Not even the mistake I made fifteen years ago when I didn’t let Stephen pay for new brakes. I’d rather get pulverized by another car than live without Evan in my life.”
He and Russ stared at each other for a moment as his words hung in the air. The enormity of what he said settled over him. “Well, shit,” Jeremy finally said.
Russ’ lips twisted in a smile again. “Just realized how much you want to be with him?”
Jeremy could only nod, the emotional weight of his words hitting him square in the chest. “Fuck,” he said quietly. “Now what the hell am I am going to do?”
Russ shrugged. “I don’t know, Jeremy, but if you want him back, I wouldn’t let some guy he’s gone on two dates with deter you. Think long and hard about what you want and come up with a plan before you drive to the wedding with Evan. I can’t guarantee anything, but you’re not going to win him back sitting on your ass at home feeling sorry for yourself, that’s for sure.”
Jeremy nodded, done arguing about whether he’d be at the wedding or not. He was going. And damn it, he was going to try to fix things with Evan. He had to. Because living without Evan wasn’t much of a life at all. “I will.” He paused as a thought popped into his head. “Wait, is Evan bringing Chris as his plus one to the wedding?”
“When I talked to him last night he was planning to go by himself.” Jeremy nodded. That was a relief at least. Russ shook his head at him. “You know, I can’t believe I’m helping you because I’m not so sure you deserve a guy like Evan—”
Jeremy cut him off. “I know that better than anyone. That’s why I tried to fight my feelings for him.”
“Yeah, well, I think he’s a hell of a lot happier with you than without, so if that’s what he wants, I’m going to be a supportive friend.”
“Then I’m going to have to do my best to not screw it up again.”
“I guess that’s all I can ask.” Russ stood, and Jeremy walked him to the door. “And thanks for reconsidering going to the wedding. It’ll mean a lot to Stephen.”
“Well, it looks like I have two reasons to go now,” Jeremy said, his tone a little rueful. Russ opened the door and stepped through it into the late-August heat. “I’m surprised you didn’t threaten to hurt me if I fucked things up with Evan again. You kind of have the protective older brother thing going on.”
Russ turned back to face him. “True, but you know what? I know you’ll hurt yourself way worse than I ever could. You and Stephen have one huge thing in common: I’ve never met two people with more unnecessary guilt in my whole life.”
He left before Jeremy could respond. Jeremy stood staring after Russ’ taillights, the late-evening sun in his eyes and more thoughts in his head than he could hope to sort through in a lifetime.
And he only had a week.
***
“I didn’t expect to see you here again so soon, Jeremy.” Dr. Fuller’s smile was tinged with concern as he closed the door behind them.
“I didn’t expect to be back here so soon,” Jeremy admitted, dropping into the familiar chair by the window.
“So what prompted your change of heart?” Dr. Fuller asked as he took a seat in his own chair, picking up a notepad from where it rested on the wooden side table. “It must be pretty important.”
Jeremy nodded, his throat feeling thick. “He is.”
One of the doctor’s eyebrows rose. “Tell me about him.”
“His name is Evan.” Jeremy sat back, getting more comfortable as he began with the story about how they’d met. “The first time I saw him was at work. He was looking for a pair of running shoes.”
Jeremy went on to tell Dr. Fuller—in excruciating detail—about everything that had transpired between him and Evan in the last few months. He had to fight his instinct to hold back, to gloss over the worst parts, but he wasn’t going to win Evan back that way. As he finished describing Russ’ visit, he said, “I really screwed things up, doc.”
“Are you both still alive?” Dr. Fuller asked.
“Last time I checked,” Jeremy said dryly, although the pang in his chest at the thought of something happening to Evan nearly choked him.
“Then there’s hope.” Dr. Fuller fixed him with a stern glare. “Are you ready to work on your intimacy issues and your lack of confidence about your leg?”
“I have to,” Jeremy said honestly. “The accident took so damn much from me, and I’m not about to let it take Evan too.”
Dr. Fuller’s smile was broad as he settled his glasses on his nose. “I’m glad to hear it, Jeremy. It looks like we have some work to do, but I am confident we can get you where you need to be.”
***
As Jeremy reached for the hem of his T-shirt, his chest tightened and his fingers felt thick and clumsy. The plan he’d made to gradually expose his scars to the world had seemed like a good idea when he was safe in Dr. Fuller’s office. But now, as he stood next to the shimmering water of the pool, he wondered if he could go through with it.
He glanced out of the corner of his eye at an older woman in a bikini who was sunning herself on a lounge chair. She wore sunglasses, so he couldn’t really tell if she was watching him, but his skin prickled as if he was being stared at. He swallowed past the panic tightening his throat and carefully twisted to the side. Hopefully, a few standing stretches would be enough to distract him from the anxiety clawing its way up from the pit of his stomach.
He and Dr. Fuller had laid out how he needed to approach this. For the first time since he’d left rehab, he was dressed in a pair of compression tights instead of a sleeveless wetsuit. The T-shirt he wore now had to come off before he got in the pool and that was the problem. He’d deliberately planned this for a time of day where the pool wasn’t packed, and he’d honestly thought he could handle it. But now that it was time to take off the shirt ... He shuddered and twisted to the other side.
It would have been so much better at night, the dim glow from the pool and the surrounding lights far more forgiving than harsh sunlight. But his schedule was filled with closing shifts this week, and if he was going to do it before he and Evan left for the wedding, it had to be today. He surreptitiously glanced over at the woman on the lounge chair and saw her lips curve up in a little smile. Damn it, she was watching him. He looked away, not wanting to give the cougar the wrong idea.
I am not your type, lady, Jeremy thought grimly. Even if I didn’t like dick, the scars will disgust you once this shirt comes off.
An image flashed in his head of Evan sitting on the bed, staring up at Jeremy with big, scared eyes as Jeremy yelled at him. Evan, who swore up and down that the scars didn’t matter. God, how he wanted to believe that. He wanted to believe that someday, Evan would look at his naked body and not flinch. But Jeremy was about six steps away from that point now. And if he didn’t take the fucking shirt off, he was never going to get there.
He sucked in a huge gulp of air and held it as he reached behind his head, yanking the shirt off in one fast motion before he could stop himself. He threw the green cotton onto the chair where he’d left his towel, keys, and sandals, and let the breath out in a loud gust. The woman nearby turned her head toward him again. He scowled at her and pivoted, his feet burning on the hot concrete as he crossed the distance to the steps that led into the pool. He refused to look down, terrified he’d see the scars and bolt out of there before he could finish his workout.
That was the deal he’d made with Dr. Fuller, after all. His task was to go to the pool when at least one other person was there, take his shirt off, and do a regular workout. The shirt couldn’t go back on until he was out of the pool and dried off.
“You better fucking be worth it, Evan Harris,” he muttered under his breath, but the minute the words left his mouth, he knew Evan was. Evan was worth everything to him.
As Jeremy moved farther into the water, he wasn’t sure if it was the thought of Evan or the fact that he was finally chest-deep in the water, but he felt some of the anxiety leach out of him. He dipped down, ducking his head under water, then sluicing it off his face and hair when he resurfaced and took a deep, steadying breath.
Next step: laps, he reminded himself. That’s the easy part.
Jeremy swam until his shoulders, chest, and arms ached, and the anxiety finally settled to a manageable level. He glanced over at the cougar on the lounge chair and rolled his eyes when he realized she didn’t appear to be in any hurry to leave. She was a bit leathery from the sun but fairly well preserved. And she either had a stronger stomach than he expected or hadn’t actually seen his scars because she kept looking toward him.
Well, he’d made it this far, he might as well go for broke. He ignored the anxiety building in the pit of his stomach again and walked to the shallow end of the pool. He took a deep breath as the water level dropped below his chest and he forced himself to put one foot in front of the other in the shallow end. As he climbed the stairs out of the pool, he fought the urge to try to cover the scars with his forearm.
Jeremy’s skin prickled and burned as he passed the woman. Even through the dark glasses, Jeremy was sure he could feel her gaze boring into him, lingering at his waist just above the compression tights. He reached for his towel with shaking fingers, and his keys jingled as he scooped them up. His chest tightened, and he jammed his feet into his sandals then fled the pool area. The metal gate clanged behind him as he walked as fast as his injured leg would allow, seeking the safety of his apartment.
Once inside the dark, cool familiarity of his home, he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the door. He forced himself to take several long, slow breaths and pictured Evan’s face.
“I did it, Evan,” he whispered. “Just about lost my shit, but I did it. Don’t give up on me yet. Please don’t give up on me. I’m trying.”