I opened my mouth to reply only to close it. Did Evan like me? I mean really like me? A million moments of him flashed through my mind. From his face in the limo when I had announced I was gay to him counting down with me in the middle of a panic attack, all the way up to tonight when he’d forced me to tell him every detail about Robin just because he was genuinely interested in why I was so upset.
If it had been a movie, that would have been the moment of realization where I took Levee’s face between my palms, planted a kiss on her lips, and then ran from the room while an upbeat ballad played in the background. A camera would have followed me all the way back to Evan’s house, where I’d throw cash at the cabbie and tell him that he didn’t need to wait. I’d run through his front door to find him waiting for me with surprise covering his handsome face. And, when he asked what I was doing, I’d have some grand line about being just a boy asking him to love me or something equally as unrealistic. Then we’d kiss while the cameraman panned a circle around us until we faded to black in an implied happily-ever-after.
But life wasn’t a movie. At least, not that kind.
In order to accept that someone as incredible as Evan Roth wanted to be with Henry Gilchrist and not the fa?ade I paraded around as, I’d need far more than a pep talk from my best friend. I didn’t even want to be with that guy, but for a brief moment in time, I’d convinced myself that Evan did.
I didn’t care that he wasn’t straight. But I couldn’t risk him seeing the dirty and broken parts of me, because if he didn’t return my feelings after I’d opened myself up, I’d never recover.
Evan had given himself to me that night. What we had experienced together wasn’t even in the same category as sex. It was the joining of two souls, and we’d both felt it.
Only I’d felt it too much.
Too deep.
Too hard.
Too permanent—at least, I wanted it to be.
So, clearly, the obvious answer was for me to leave him before he could leave me.
“Henry.” Levee snapped her fingers and repeated, “Does he like you?”
“I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure it was only physical for him,” I lied. Only I couldn’t muster a fake smile to go along with it.
I liked him. That was all that mattered. And it hurt like hell to be standing in her bedroom instead of falling asleep in his arms.
“Jesus. Get him in bed,” Sam whispered when Levee wrapped her arms around my trembling shoulders.
She pulled me down beside her. “You’re so fucking stubborn.”
“I’ll give you two some time alone.” He kissed Levee’s hair and squeezed my shoulder. “Not accepting it doesn’t change reality, Henry. Life is a struggle, but it’s who you chose to take on the journey with you that matters the most. And, if you ask me, it sounds like you already chose. Don’t let the bullshit details get in your way.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, nowhere near ready to internalize his words. “I’m doubling my efforts at sending you naked men from now on. Warning: They might even include a few selfies.”
His laugh traveled out of the room before disappearing with the click of the door closing behind him.
Levee tugged a giant body pillow between her legs and faced me. “You want to talk or sleep?”
“Sleep. But I feel the need to admit that I lied to you about how I felt about Evan a few weeks ago.”
Her eyes softened as she trailed her thumb over my eyebrows. “I know.”
I sucked in an agonizing breath. “Well, it was only a half lie. I don’t know if I really love him yet. But I want to. So fucking bad.”
She smiled warmly. “I know that too.”
I SAT AT the airport all day, hoping Henry would show and at least let me fly him to his next concert.
And maybe talk to me.
And kiss me.
And tell me that he was sorry.
And, most importantly, tell me that we were okay.
He never showed.
My heart broke a little more each time my call went to his voicemail. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that he was avoiding me.
But, by the second day without so much as a text, I got pissed.
At him for having run out on me for reasons I still couldn’t comprehend.
At myself for having trusted him with the jagged pieces of my heart.
At Shannon for having made them jagged to begin with.
At myself for having allowed Shannon to still have any part of my life at all.
Then, at Henry again, for having proven me right about men.
It was emotional upheaval at its finest.
On day three, I sent him a text telling him that I quit. It probably would have been more effective if I’d actually ever flown him anywhere since he hired me.
He didn’t reply.
So, on day four, I gathered my company cell phone and the few bits of clothing he’d left at my house and dropped them off at Jackson’s office. It was unlikely that Henry would get them any time soon, but just having them out of my house did wonders for me.
Or that’s what I told myself as I drunkenly destroyed my bedroom.