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“I gotta go. I’ll see you at home later.”
And then he’s gone.
ISAIAH is waiting for me when our writing class lets out a couple of hours later. I’m done for the day, but for the life of me, I don’t remember a single thing I’m supposed to have learned. I wanted to go home, but somehow was able to figure it was probably best that I didn’t miss class on the first day.
Bad impressions, and all that.
But Isaiah is standing there, waiting for me to drag my feet toward the door, my mind a million miles away, wondering just how in the fuck I messed up so bad, trying to think of ways to get Otter to talk to me. I texted him three times during the past ninety minutes, but haven’t gotten a response. He always responds. Which means either his phone is off or he’s ignoring me. Either way, it fucking sucks.
You know what I hate? Having epiphanies after the fact. You know what I’m talking about. When you’ve fought and cut and screamed and bit and walked away to lick your wounds, only to come to a realization that you should’ve come to before all the stupidity that you seem to bask in. I hate hindsight because it’s brutal and glaring, and that feeling of “what I should have done” is so obvious that it feels like acid on my skin.
My epiphany? I don’t need to fuck around with anyone else. Everyone looks. That doesn’t mean everyone has to touch. I don’t need anyone else.
The thought of anyone other than Otter makes me sick to my stomach. So fucking what if Isaiah can get a rise out of me? It’s human nature. He’s hot.
He affect
s my dick. He doesn’t affect my heart. Even if I were to give him half a chance, there’s no way he could ever be to me what Otter is. There’s no way he could ever be the man that I’ve loved since I was a kid. I can say that now, however hard it is for me to do so. I can say it now because it’s true. I don’t need anyone like I need Otter. Without him, I’d be lost.
“You okay?” Isaiah asks. “You looked like shit when you walked into class.”
“I’m fine,” I say. And I think I might mean it. “Didn’t have the greatest phone call before I came in, but I’m going to fix it.”
“With Seal?”
I roll my eyes. “Otter, but you knew that already.”
He grins as he follows me as I start to make my way to the parking lot.
I’ve got to get home to check on Ty before I have to go to work. I’m tempted to call in sick and drive directly to the studio and make sure Otter never forgets who I am and what he means to me, but I know he needs his space for the moment, to think things through. He’ll be home tonight. I’ll make him listen.
“Yeah, well, it’s ridiculous no matter how it sounds,” Isaiah says. “But, seriously, you okay?”
“Yeah. We fought about stupid—wait, why do you even care?”
He grins at me, and those dimples flash, but they’re muted now in my eyes. He waggles his eyebrows and says, “Thought maybe I could catch you on the rebound. Can’t blame me for trying.”
I can’t stop the bark of laughter that escapes. “No, I guess I can’t. Look, I’m sorry Anna was rude. She’s not normally like that.”
He waves his hand in easy dismissal. “She was just watching out for you, I get that. I can come on a little strong.” He shrugs. “It probably wouldn’t have worked out between us, anyways.”
“How you figure?” I ask, honestly curious.
“I’m not named Beaver or Llama or something totally cool like you two are,” he says as he rolls his eyes. “People named Bear and Otter deserve to be together.”
“Yeah?” I say as I glance at him.
“Oh, Jesus, do you give him those eyes too?” he groans, looking like he’s totally serious. “Christ, but he must jump your bones.”
“Shut up.”
He grabs me by the arm and stops me. “Look, Bear, I don’t have time for bullshit. I never have, and I never will. If you’ve been through what I’ve been through, then you’d know that’s true. If I tell you something, I mean it.”
“Uh, thanks. I guess.” I almost want to ask what he’s been through, but I don’t know why I should care. It’s confusing.
Isaiah pulls a pen out of his pocket and grabs my hand, holding it palm up. He starts to write, bent over in concentration, and I can feel his breath on my palm, the subtle stroke of the pen, and I miss Otter even more. When he raises his head, his face is mere inches from my own “That’s my number, okay? You call me if you just want to talk, or whatever. I promise I can keep my hands to myself. Sometimes, it’s better to talk to a stranger than those that are closest to you. I know shit can get rough sometimes, so just let me know if you need to vent.”
I nod, and am about to turn away when he says my name, and I look up, and suddenly his mouth is on mine, a short hard kiss that catches me off guard, and before I can do anything, it’s done and over with. “And,” he says with a glint in his eyes, “if it’s ever over between you and Walrus, you can call me for all kinds of reasons. I’m curious to see if this Bear has claws.
