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A: I can’t do this.
Then I clicked send.
23
It was toolate to call Griffin, and I didn’t want to listen to him compare my situation to his perfect relationship with Sebastian. Xander would be asleep, most likely with Aiden. Then there was Bernard, our perpetual stag. I stared at my phone, reading his last text.
“Mi osito.”
I didn’t want to message him again. It was one thing to reach out for assurance, but I didn’t want him worrying. Tomorrow, over breakfast, I’d tell them what happened and let them go into detail about what kind of idiot I had been. But tonight, I wanted to stew in my misery. I deserved nothing less.
I stared at the message to Theo. Seconds after sending it, I blocked his number to stop myself from taking it back. I didn’t want to hear his explanation. Eclipse might be nothing more than a villain terrorizing the city, but he hadn’t been wrong. I was burning bridges as I went. It was bad enough that I felt like they had blown a hole in my chest, first by Dan, then Theo, and Dan again. It was time to walk away from the situation before my suspicions were confirmed.
The phone dinged and my heart jumped. There was no way it was Theo, but somehow, I wanted to see a message coming from a blocked number. This was part of the problem. For years, I picked myself up off the floor, repairing the damage wreaked by Dan. I found a life I loved, carefree, with no responsibilities, just me savoring my waking moments. Yet with Theo, I reduced myself into a bottomless pit of need. Theo might be the jerk, but the problem was with me.
“Want to hang out after work?”
Over the last couple of weeks, the nighttime barrage of text messages had dwindled. The superhero community must have spread the word that I had narrowed my attention to one hero in particular. I stared at the message, decrypting its gay lingo. Why they didn’t just come out and say, “Hey, want to get sweaty?” There was no doubt at this hour it was a request for a hookup.
A: Who is this?
S: Stretch. Hurt you didn’t save my number.
It had been months since I served Stretch his Belgian ale. The man had the personality of cardboard, far stiffer than his superpowers suggested. He didn’t exactly win in the conversation department, but I appreciated it when he came right out and asked if I wanted to spend the night on all fours. What self-respecting slut could say no to that offer?
Stretch’s prowess in bed almost made up for the awkward pillow talk afterward. I couldn’t have found my underwear fast enough. By the time I had my shoes on, he was talking about mutual funds and tax sheltering. Thankfully, he didn’t expect the evening to be anything more than a transaction of pleasure. Anybody who says being able to elongate and thicken any part of your body at will is a stupid power. They obviously haven’t been bent over the couch by them before.
A: What’s up?
Did I really respond? What was I hoping to get out of this? It’s not like I’d be sitting down with Stretch to discuss the path of destruction I left in my wake. Chances were, his text message had little to do with talking and more to do with my vigor on my knees.
S: Looking?
Gay men were odd creatures. They couldn’t text a simple, “Want to fuck?” It had to either be cloaked in an activity that we all knew was code for sex. Then they’d swing to the other extreme, where sex turned into one-word discussions. I’m not saying I needed to be wooed every time I got naked. If you were going to pray to this altar, show a little respect.
A: For what?
S: You know.
A: Really? Coy isn’t in my vocabulary.
Okay, that was a little harsh. But I wasn’t in the mood to beat around the bush. I stared at the screen as the three dots appeared. What was I in the mood for? If the world crashed around me, then at least I could spend a night feeling good. Yes, what I wanted right now was a distraction to take my mind off the dumpster fire known as my love life.
S: I want to fuck you again.
Finally, to the point.
A: Where?
He texted his address, and I mapped the direction. I had forgotten he was only a couple of blocks from the club. Dan’s voice pelted the back of my head with his searing words. He believed I was a player, willing to drop my pants for anybody who gave me the time of day. Then there was Theo, the one I wanted the time of day and couldn’t get it. And with the club going away, long-term stability was almost laughable. In the immensity of Vanguard City, I had never felt so insignificant.
I wanted the voices to stop. The ache in my chest had reached a level that threatened to steal the air from my lungs. A panic attack hovered on the horizon. These feelings never crossed my mind when I lived in the moment. Perhaps it was the only direction in life for me? Making plans for the future hadn’t panned out. It was time to return to my ‘live for the moment’ lifestyle.
Decision made.
A: omw.
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