Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
I shook my head. “It’s okay.”
“What did he say to you?” Jeremy looked pained. He was probably certain I was destined to hate David now.
“Nothing all that awful. Nothing that wasn’t true.”
“I swear, I thought he would behave better than that.”
“He doesn’t want you hurt again. I get that.” And annoyingly, I really did. I’d gained respect for David. The man had even admitted he was wrong, and I knew how hard that could be.
Jeremy pressed his palms to his eyes. “Fuck, he told you about Silas, didn’t he? Great. My biggest humiliation and he spilled it all. I’m going to fucking kill him.”
I tugged on Jeremy’s hands, enclosing them in my own. “Don’t. David’s right, I can’t ask you to hide with me.”
Color drained from Jeremy’s face. “Are you breaking up with me?”
“No, I’m… I have to go slow, get used to the idea of being out, but I want to try, for you. Sabrina and I talked and she told me…” I wondered how much I should say. Sabrina hadn’t given me permission to tell Jeremy.
“That she’s a lesbian?”
“Yes. It hurt that she hid who she was from me. I don’t want to do that to anyone.” I took a deep breath. “Wait, how’d you know?”
“I guessed, and a comment she made confirmed it while we were in the kitchen.”
I stared at Jeremy, disbelieving. “But you’re the one who wanted to set her up with David.”
Jeremy smiled slyly. “I never said that. I said they’d get along well.”
“Bastard.”
“Me or David?”
I growled. “Both of you.”
Jeremy smiled more warmly this time. “I care about you a lot. And I can be as patient as you need me to be.”
Those words were exactly what I needed to hear.
19
Connor
The next evening, I sat with Jeremy on his balcony watching the sun set.
“You want to take a walk?” he asked. “Maybe get some ice cream or a drink?”
An ice-cream cone sounded perfect. “I don’t think I’ve been out for ice cream since the last time we had it on base.”
“Really? David’s a huge ice cream fan so we get it all the time.”
No matter how sure I was that Jeremy and David had never been more than friends, I didn’t like the idea of David taking him out for ice cream.
“So, do you want to go?” I saw the uncertainty in his eyes. I was not going to disappoint him. This shouldn’t be a big deal.
“Sure.”
The smile he gave me was worth taking any risk for. “Great. We can walk around the neighborhood a bit, then end up on Haywood. There’s a great ice cream shop just down from the park.”
I dropped my feet from where I’d had them propped on a storage bench. My stomach fluttered, but I was going to do this. I was safe here. Most people in this neighborhood wouldn’t think twice about two men being together. And we weren’t going to announce that it was a date. But I felt like everyone would know.
Because when you look at Jeremy, you see the man you love.
I don’t—
You do.
Would Mario know if he saw us together? Was it that obvious? I needed to tell him. Eventually. For now, all I needed to do was go out in public with Jeremy.
We walked through the neighborhood side by side but not touching. An awkwardness hung heavy between us, even though we talked pleasantly, observing people’s dogs and cats and how damn hot it was—I’d become such a fucking wimp about the heat.
Was Jeremy hoping something would happen? Did he want me to hold his hand, to kiss him, to show how open I was?
Ask him.
Hell no.
I wanted to turn around and go back to his house, but I wouldn’t. I would see this through.
Fucking fags. Shouldn’t let ‘em in the Marines.
Dammit, why did Mario’s words have to intrude on me now? I’d been a damn fine Marine, and Mario knew that. If I confessed that I was going out with a man, that I’d never liked women, would it erase all that I’d done in Mario’s eyes? Would he ever respect me again? Why did his opinion matter so much? He’d stayed in the desert, lost inside his head, hoping to atone for something that wasn’t his fault. Jeremy was right here, and he wanted me. Why should I give that up?
We turned onto Haywood and walked a few more blocks until we reached Isadora’s Ice Cream. I’d driven past the brightly colored, art deco-inspired shop plenty of times. Most evenings, there was a crowd milling around outside, either waiting in a long line or happily licking ice-cream cones on the front porch or at one of the tables in the grassy area in front of the shop. I’d never stopped though. I bet Jeremy had been here often. He probably felt right at home among the oddly dressed Ashevillians. The place made me feel stodgy and unimaginative.