“He said he liked me as a friend. He friendzoned me ten minutes into the movie.”
“That’s not so bad, right?” I asked. “He seems cool enough to have as a friend and shit.” I said the words but didn’t mean them. I preferred they weren’t friends and had felt shitty ever since the admission had crossed my mind. I didn’t have exclusive rights to Cooper’s friendship but still didn’t want him having such a stud as a friend. I couldn’t explain my jealousy. What if he liked Cooper and took him away from me?
“It’s what he said after he friendzoned me,” Cooper said quietly. I waited for him to explain further but he didn’t continue.
“What happened, buddy?” I whispered. “No judgment.”
Cooper let out a long sigh. “He asked me to suck his dick. He said we could be friends and on the down low. He said he wouldn’t do stuff to me but I could suck him off and he wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“Jesus,” I muttered.
“And when I said no he grabbed my hand and pressed it against his crotch.‘See what you do to me,’he said.”
I gently squeezed Cooper’s hand that was on my chest. “Asshole,” I stated. “I’ll kick hisass for you.”
Cooper continued, “Then he said he thought all gays wanted to suck straight guys’ dicks and he was totally fine if I blew him a few times a week until he got a girlfriend. Maybe even after in case she didn’t suck dick,” Cooper explained. “He even asked if I was blowing you.”
I pushed Cooper’s hand from my chest and leaped out of bed. “What a fucking creep!” I raged. “Fucking asshole! I will fuck him up.”
“He didn’t actually like me as a boyfriend like I’d hoped he did,” Cooper said, biting his lower lip. “And I would have sucked his dick if he had.”
“The fuck you would’ve,” I raged further. “He doesn’t deserve you, Coop. What a fuckwad.” I sat on the edge of my bed facing away from Cooper. I was angry and sad that my best friend was hurting. “But he didn’t hurt you, right? Not physically or anything?” I asked, turning to face him.
Cooper slid a hand across the bed toward mine, forcing his fingers underneath mine. “No, he didn’t,” he answered. “But, Mikey, it just sucks that I’m good enough to suck his dick but not good enough to kiss and stuff.”
“Yes, you are,” I whispered. “I think you are anyway.”
“I wished I had a boyfriend like you, Mikey. A guy that makes me feel the way I feel when I’m around you,” he said. “I want to be safe and cared for by a guy that’s handsome like you.”
“You will, Coop.”
He pulled me back on the bed and played with my hair while my head rested on his bare stomach. It was a typical gesture between us that I didn’t recognize was something I needed until he was holding me. I listened, defended, and made it clear I was there for him, then he always showed me what I meant to him by comforting me back.
“I really liked him,” he admitted.
“I know you did, buddy. I’m sorry it didn’t go your way this time,” I said, even though my words were untrue.
I wished nothing but the best for Cooper, but secretly I was pleased that Mike Hastings wasn’t the guy for him. The thought of a guy like Hastings who was all muscular and good looking being with Coop didn’t sit well with me. I knew I was being unfair, but I wanted Cooper all to myself.
Perhaps I wasn’t a good friend.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: Mike
The small box sat on the kitchen island, reminding me that I had three hours to make a decision. I paced back and forth in the kitchen, stepping through the open French doors and staring at the dark backyard while I pondered my sanity.
“She was losing it,” I whispered, turning to face the kitchen. I’d cleaned the place top to bottom. I’d wanted the house to be perfectly clean in case I went to the other side and if there was a replacement who would want to sell. “I’m not doing this,” I muttered, still fighting a desire to keep my sanity intact.
Again I turned and stared into the yard, the darkness offering no argument to support why I should do as I’d promised. Mom would never know either way. I wanted to call Brandt again and ask him if he still thought I should go through with mom’s crazy plan, but he texted an hour ago encouraging me to keep my promise and reminded me to take a picture for proof.
I walked to the island and stared at the envelope on the box. Mom’s handwriting said to read before opening the box. I held the envelope in my hand, my heart racing.
She was crazy.
I was crazy.
Her idea was fantastically crazy.
You can’t do this,I heard my inner voice speak.And you don’t have to, Mike. She’s gone.
