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I debate turning right back around, but there’s a real chance of getting lost a second time. I highly doubt Alex is sticking around to see what I plan to do.
“We’re getting ready to sit down for dinner,” Ugly says. “Have you seen Boomer? He was supposed to help with the steaks.”
I shake my head. “Haven’t seen him.”
Ugly narrows his eyes, and I don’t know if he’s trying to decide whether I’m lying to him or if he’s trying to think of where the man in question might be.
“But I’m not too bad on a grill. I don’t mind helping,” I offer, which doesn’t lower Ugly’s suspicions.
“Report to Kincaid,” he says, frowning when I mock salute him.
I feel like a complete idiot as I walk up to the president of the Cerberus MC, but he doesn’t seem to have a problem with the help I’m offering.
The man doesn’t question me or grill me about Alex, and as I help, I have to wonder if this will be the very last time I have the opportunity to be involved in anything Cerberus does.
Chapter 37
Boomer
For as long as I can remember, even back to the time before my brother walked in on me the day my fate with the church was sealed, I’ve concerned myself with keeping up appearances. I went out on dates with girls as a teen, despite those looking nothing like modern dates. I did my best to look the part when I ended up at strip clubs with members of my platoon. I chatted and made the appearance of flirting with women at Jake’s on occasion. I might be gay, but it feels nice to know that others find me attractive.
Tonight, I just can’t seem to manage an ounce of worry for others. I stay in the woods, hovering on the edge of the forest all evening. Even as the sun disappears and dinner is served, I stay to myself. I don’t care if people are concerned or if they’re left wondering where I might have disappeared to. I need space, a little distance from all of it.
The run-in with Drake in the woods left me more drained than the sleepless night and hike has. I feel completely depleted, thinking of the vulnerability in the man’s eyes as he questioned whether he was good enough for me. I couldn’t bring myself to confess that it was me who wasn’t good enough for him. The man has a heart of gold. He’s patient, funny, accepting, all things I don’t deserve with how I’ve acted.
I’ve picked and chosen when he can fit into my life. I ignore and reject him when it isn’t convenient for me.
I’ve been a total dick to him, blaming him for Ugly being at the bar, letting myself almost believe that he did that to hurt me, knowing full well it was just another stroke of crappy luck.
I’ve pointed fingers, blamed, and accused when Drake hasn’t done anything wrong. I’ve avoided him, grown angry with just the sight of him, because it has gotten nearly impossible not to go to him, to tell him of my fears and the plethora of things I’m struggling with. I ache, knowing that I’m not even close to being done with all the things I struggle with.
I can’t be who he needs. I wasn’t lying about that part, but I don’t want him sticking around, hoping I’ll eventually be the person he needs. It isn’t fair to him.
The thought of him finding someone who will be all the things I can’t makes my knees threaten to buckle.
I know better than to think that I’m feeling this way about him because he’s just the first guy I’ve done certain things with. There’s more to Drake than the sexual experiences. I think I might have known that before the kiss in the hallway despite my constant effort to deny it.
I somehow convinced myself it was just fun, which would make it easy to walk away from.
I’m finding it the most difficult thing I’ve ever faced, even knowing he has a right to more than I can give.
Silently, I make my way to the other side of camp when I see Alyssa kiss Harley on the cheek, whispering something in his ear before walking toward Drake who is sitting off by himself.
I see their lips moving as I inch closer but can’t hear what they’re saying.
I don’t know whether to be angry at Alyssa for prodding, or to be proud to call her my friend for her noticing how despondent the man looks.
I haven’t given much information to her about Drake, but much like Ugly, she seems competent in figuring stuff out on her own.
I slink around a little further, noticing Ugly darting his eyes in my direction. He’s not the only one who has done so, and it doesn’t surprise me that several of my teammates have tracked my movements. I guess I should just be lucky one of them hasn’t labeled me a threat and come after me.
