Page 22 of Oblivious Roommate

“No, but stereo—Never mind.” He massages his forehead. “What I’m saying is that you might be his type. But I’m hardly pushing you to do anything rash. Go ahead and digest what you learned about yourself tonight.”

“And then we’ll destroy Logan…” I mutter as I swirl the wine in my glass.

Aaron does a similar motion with his drink, and in that swivel chair, wearing a black turtleneck, he looks like some old-school villain. He just needs a cat in his lap.

“Yes, then we destroy Logan. But why am I supposed to hate him so much? I want him to like… get his ass handed to him, but he doesn’t deserve to lose his job and right hand. Let’s just be clear on that, okay?” he asks, as if he expects me to go and chop off the dude’s limbs.

“Well… Yeah. What I’m saying is that we need to expose him for what he is.”

“Which is…?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“A cheater! Get with the program, Aaron!” I drink more wine in frustration. The idea that some stupid cowboy is hurting my Cass boils my blood.

“Technically Cass is a cheater too.”

I’m so annoyed I jump to my feet. “Yeah, but Cass is…” I gesture with my hands incoherently hoping that’s enough explanation, but Aaron just stares at me with those pale eyes of a know-it-all. “He’s my best friend, and he can do no wrong, okay?”

He shrugs. “Okay, that’s fair. In any case, I advise against rushing into things. This is all new for you. And revenge is a dish best served cold anyway.”

I nod, though the thoughts clouding my mind are darker than the bottom of my goblet. When my phone buzzes, I flinch so rapidly the wine almost spills all over Aaron’s bed, but I manage to hold myself together and glance at the screen. My heart beats faster when I see a message from Cass. It’s just a picture of him dressed as Robin Hood and about to shoot an arrow toward the camera, though one side of his small mustache is missing.

It’s only then that I realize there’s something unfamiliar on my cheek, and when I grab it, the missing facial hair is no longer lost.

Aaron lets out a soft sigh and leans in to clink our glasses. “To a new, gay, Matt.”

Chapter 9

My headache is passing by the time I get home in the morning. Talk about walk of shame. I quietly open the door, stressing out about a possible confrontation with Cass.

I spent the night on Aaron’s floor, because with my new revelation it felt weird to suggest sleeping in the same bed. I shouldn’t have drank so much. I shouldn’t have drank at all, technically, but I’m twenty-one next month anyway so, whatever.

I’m afraid of what things might be like between me and Cass after that kiss. So maybe he doesn’t know it’s me who accosted him in the labyrinth, but I do. I now know what his lips taste like, what holding him is like, and that I get rock-hard when he grabs my ass.

There is no undoing any of it, and I’m still fuzzy on the consequences of this revelation, because I never imagined a… gay future for myself. I don’t know if I want kids, but it was always so obvious to me that one day I’d find a woman who’d become my wife. My parents are open-minded, but they never even considered I might be anything but a straight son who’ll eventually bring home a future daughter-in-law.

Even Cass never really asked me about gay stuff, which makes me sad whenever I think about it, because it means he felt the need to hold back in our friendship. That he was afraid I might reject him. But when I think of all the times we studied together, I wish he had told me, so we could have kissed on my bed, on top of coursework.

It’s all so heavy to think about on a hungover brain.

Aaron offered to drive me, but after we drank his secret cabinet dry together, his face looked so gray I didn’t have the heart to accept. It took me forty minutes to reach the apartment on foot, and by the time I arrive, all I want is to grab a glass of water and hide under my comforter.

It’s not meant to be.

“You look like you had a good night. Did the date go well?” Cass asks.

I drop the keys in panic, convinced he’s seen through me and that the question is about our kiss last night. But when I look up and see him hugging a pillow on the sofa, there’s no anger in his expression.

“Uh… yeah, I guess. Kinda. No, it didn’t, actually.” Why am I like this? “It’s not gonna work, but Aaron roped me into a drink in town and things got out of hand so I spent the night at his. How about you?”

I walk into the living room and sit on the opposite side of the sofa, aware of his body in ways I haven’t been before. Did I really stuff his face under my armpit just last month? What was I thinking?

Cass looks great in gray pajama pants and a plain T-shirt, and I count myself lucky that the pillow sits on his crotch, because I might have revealed my secret by staring.

How? How can a guy go through such a rapid change?

Still, despite the chaos inside me, I try to continue this normal conversation and add, “What about you? Did you have fun… with Logan?”

Cass’s expression remains unchanged, but his eyes dim. It’s only then that I spot the plastic mace I dropped at the labyrinth sitting on the coffee table, and my knees so soft.