Ryker holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m waving the white flag. Throwing in the towel. You’ve KO’d me, babe.”
Freddie looks away. “Don’t call me babe.”
“You want to fight?” I ask. “Then fightme.”
“Liam,” Ryker warns from behind me, but I’m watching Freddie who’s frowning, first at the coat pegs, then at the shoes by the front door.
“Where’s Keiron?” he asks.
“Gone.”
“Gone,” he snorts. “Just like that?”
I don’t know what Freddie’s hoping I’ll reply with, so I stare instead.
“When?” he asks.
“Last night when we got home.”
Freddie gapes like I’ve revealed a sordid confession, but it doesn’t feel that way for me. It’s brutal, and honest, and it may not have been what Keiron wanted, but it’s what he needed. What we both did. We’ve gone through this before, many times, and he didn’t even seem sad or surprised when I told him it was over.
“Jesus,” Freddie breathes. “Is it really that easy for you?”
I don’t understand the question.
“To just switch your feelings off like that?” he clarifies.
I get what he’s asking now, but I won’t answer him. My feelings haveneverswitched off, and that’s the problem. I might have been able to move on, make it work with someone in a toxic relationship, but my feelings are intricately linked to Freddie, and they always will be.
“I mean, I get him,” Freddie says waving a flippant hand towards Ryker. “He fucks without feeling, without consequence or care, but at least he’s honest, at least the men he’s with knowthe score, but you . . . how many years have you been off and on with Keiron?”
“Six,” I answer.
“Six years, and you can throw him out like he’s nothing.” Freddie blinks to hold back tears. “Like you did to me.”
And that’s why he’s here, and why we need to talk.
We’ve been in a relationship since we were all nine years old, and although it had never crossed into sexual territory until now, it’s always been deep and intimate. We love each other, but right now that love is clouded by the past few months. Its depths are hidden by the scum on top, and we’ve got to break free and clear the debris.
“Is there even a heart in your chest?”
“Yes,” I say “But Keiron never had it.”
In my head it sounds as close to romantic as I can get, but I’m sure Freddie hears something different. He surges forward to shove me, then shoves me again when I stumble back a step.
“Six years and you never loved him?”
Freddie dates, he falls in love, then he gets into relationships. Ryker and I have seen it happen countless times. To be in a relationship and not love the person is an alien concept for him. He’s fine with sex without emotion, accepting Ryker’s ways, but it becomes clear he assumed I was like him, tying myself emotionally to the person I shared a bed with for seven nights of the week.
“Enough,” Ryker says as he gets in between us.
Freddie struggles. They tussle and end up colliding with the living room door. It swings open and they tumble inside, managing to keep their footing. I go in after them with my eyes fixed on Freddie, stalking him.
“Have you ever cared about anyone?” he spits in my direction.
“Of course.”
“I mean anyone other than Ryker?”
