“Ice cold bitch if you ask me, dude,” Brandt said, flagging down the server with a wave of his hand. He turned back to me and narrowed his eyes. “Like, for real, she accomplished all that within three days?” he asked.
I nodded in agreement.
“A fucking lawyer and the completed divorce papers were ready to be signed and couriered to you?”
I nodded again and stared into my glass of beer. I was sure the foam spelled out loser as I drowned in my shitty life.
“Fuck her,” he added.
“Apparently not anymore,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.
He chuckled at my quip. “I’ll admit Jennifer was smoking hot even if I am gay.” The server brought another round and smiled at me for a bit longer than normal. Brandt caught it. “I fucking hate bringing you to my bars. No one is looking at me,” he bitched. “You’d kill in this town if you were actually gay, Mike. Your full head of blond hair, the blue eyes, your ripped body, and that fucking face of yours. God! I’m so fucking jealous,” he stated. He looked around to see who was checking us out and then turned back to me with a mischievous look on his face. “What about me and you?” he teased. “I’m a good teacher.”
I should have been bothered by his offer. “About that,” I began.
Brandt leaned forward, all of his attention on me possibly disclosing something juicy to him. “Yes? Do go on,” he trilled.
“Stop it, you goofball.” I felt my face warming. Brandt was my best buddyin Seattle. We worked out together after meeting at the gym two years prior when he was shamelessly flirting with me. And by shameless, I mean he came up to me in the shower and complimented the size of my dick. “How did you know you were gay?” I asked. Lowering my voice and nervously looking toward the two men next to us who were holding hands at their table. “Like was it obvious?” I added.
“Let’s just say I wanted Dorothy’s ruby slippers the very day I watched The Wizard of Oz, girl.”
I hated when he called me girl but that was Brandt. Big, muscular, and manly, yet gay as fuck Brandt. “Come on,” I urged. “How’d you know?”
He looked at me suspiciously. “Why are you asking, pretty boy?”
“I’m not exactly sure,” I admitted.
“You need someone to lighten a burden?” he asked. “Because Iamyour guy when it comes to this topic. But remember, if you’re thinking of becoming a big ol’ cock sucker, I get first dibs.”
I rolled my eyes. “Forget it,” I complained, looking away in embarrassment.
I felt his hand on my knee under the table. “Go on, buddy. I’m just having fun with ya. I’ll shut up now,” he said. “Is this about your divorce?”
“Maybe,” I acknowledged. “I’m not sure exactly if it is, but Jen found something and then said a bunch of stuff about me. My brain has been working through it and I’m getting nowhere so far.”
“What’d she find?”
I wrung my hands nervously in my lap. “A letter.”
“From?” he pushed, his eyes widening with every answered inquiry.
“I’ve never told anyone, Brandt. So I’m trusting you,” I said.
“Hold on a second.” He got our server’s attention and held up four fingers. “We need to double the reinforcements. You can crash at my place since it’s only a block away.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Go.”
I spent the next hour and a half telling Brandt everything about my childhood. From birth, to Cooper, Cooper’s last days, the letter and what was in it, Jennifer and our marriage, and her discovery of the letter. Finishing up with me suddenly questioning my sexuality.
“Jen told me I needed to focus on what Cooper meant to me,” I said, completing my story.
“Fuck, man,” he said, exhaling slowly and shaking his head. “Shit, dude, I’m sorry too. You know, about this Cooper dude and everything.”
I frowned at him. “Do you ever hear yourself speak?” I asked. He raised an eyebrow in question. “Are you sure you’re actually gay? You drop the wordsdudeandmanmore than any straight guy I’ve ever met.”
“Part of my charm, dude,” he acknowledged. “But fuck that. Back to this Cooper fella with that letter and shit. Did you do those things he wrote about in the letter?”
I nodded.
“Damn, dude. That’s fucking hot, man.”
