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“That’s enough,” Franky said, as I tugged once more on the resistance band. “You heard the doctor. Light stretching—”
“Twice a day,” I finished for him, using my good forearm to wipe the sweat from my brow. “I know.”
“Are you in that much of a rush to get out of here?” he asked, setting his dumbbells onto the rack. I’d finally gotten the splint off. The leg cast would take longer, and unfortunately that meant I still needed some assistance since my arm wasn’t strong enough to work crutches.
“I have to get back to The Daisy, and don’t think I haven’t noticed you all doing everything in your power to keep me out of there.” Cole or Noon would either pop over or call daily with updates on the bar, but I’d only gotten to go there a handful of times.
“We just want you to put your recovery first, and to trust that the people who care about you have everything under control,” he said, moving around his home gym, putting everything back in its place.
“It’s still a baby, and I’m the owner. I need to be there.”
“You check the balance sheets every night. You know it’s doing well. Better than well,” he said, and I grunted in response.
“You hate that it’s doing well without you, don’t you?” he asked, settling onto the workout bench adjacent to me.
“Yes,” I said, staring straight ahead. His question implied more than he intended it to, and so had my answer. “It means I’m not crucial to its survival. It means I’m not special at all. The Daisy doesn’t need me, but I damn sure need it.” I looked at him then, and sure enough, he saw me.
“That isn’t true, and you know it.”
I faced forward again. The blank wall held more appeal than the honesty in his eyes. I was in a rare mood, somewhere between apathy and feeling so much that it hurt to breathe.
“You’ve been pensive this past week. More so than usual. What else is on your mind, Leland?”
Where the hell he constantly disappeared to late at night was on my mind. Also on my mind was why he returned every morning, right before sun up, bone tired and in need of an urgent shower. But after the hand job fiasco the last time we’d showered together, I swore to myself I wouldn’t do anything to lead him on ever again, and giving him the impression that I cared about where he might be, and who he might be with, most definitely fell under the leading-on category. It saidI want you. It saidI give a fuck. And I did want him, and I absolutely gave a fuck.
I had to be certain that what I wanted was what I could let myself have, though. There was still the big matter of trust. There was still Cole and Jasper to contend with, and although we’d made some strides toward forgiveness over the weeks, there was still that last bit of resentment I couldn’t quite kick.
“Just thinking about all the bad choices I’ve made throughout the years,” I said, which was true. There were multiple things occupying my mind. He could have that one. “All the relationships I may have sabotaged.”
“Why’d you do it?” he asked, the scent of his sweat prickling my nose and making my mouth water.
“I want to say I don’t know, but that’d be a lie.” I hadn’t purposely sought out unavailable people, but I didn’t exactly have my hookups fill out a questionnaire on their relationship status either. Don’t-ask-don’t-tell was my motto, and in the instances where it was blatantly obvious, instances when they didn’t even have the decency to remove their wedding rings or make up some excuse to get their boyfriend out the club doors before fucking me in the bathroom… Well, I’d told myself if it wasn’t me, it would have been someone else.
“The truth is, I saw it as proof that I was wanted. That I was worthy, and special, and so goddamned irresistible that everyone would want to risk it all to have me. For a moment, someone wanted me more than they wanted their next breath. In my mind it made you wrong for not wanting me. It made everyone who ever mattered wrong for not wanting me. And some part of me also relished in causing harm, because I felt harmed.” I exhaled deeper than I ever had, feeling a small vacancy open up in my soul for having admitted that out loud, for essentially getting rid of it.
“I’m sorry,” Franky whispered.
It wasn’t an empty gesture, because Franky didn’t do those, but I understood something just then, and so I said, “You don’t need to be sorry anymore, Franky. What I did was on me. It’s about time I own my shit. Let me have this.”
“Okay,” he said.
We were at the tail end of August, which meant summer was winding down, and the sweat on my body, mingled with the cool breeze flowing in from the open window, made me shiver. “I’m gonna head up and take a hot shower,” I said.
Franky didn’t ask if I needed help. I’d been showering alone since the night my cock exploded all over his fist. It had taken me twice the time at first, but now with the splint removed, bathing myself moved from impossible to a minor annoyance.
“I’ll do the same,” he said, standing. “I was thinking about walking along the pier. Maybe grabbing some dinner while I’m down there. Feel like joining me?”
“Sure,” I said, then leaned forward to whisper, “right after we swing by the bar.”
***
From the moment we arrived at The Daisy, I’d done nothing but get in the way. It wasn’t wheelchair friendly I realized, and made a mental note to do something about that. I’d hopped around on my one good leg until it cramped, almost taking me to the floor if it weren’t for Cole catching me. I took the hint and allowed Franky to get us the hell out of there.
We hung out by the pier where I watched Franky get lost in his thoughts, still one of my favorite pastimes. Then we grabbed tacos and Stellas from a food truck before spending the next two hours eating and chatting at one of the seaport’s outdoor eating spaces overlooking the water.
“You’re kidding me?” Franky said, setting his beer down on the bistro table we sat at.
“Nope. Noon literally swept him off his feet.” We laughed as I went over the first time Noon and Cole met. Cole and I had been hanging out at my apartment when Noon stopped by. Cole opened the door for him, and instead of exchanging pleasantries, Noon picked him up and spun him around before landing a kiss to his cheek and thanking him for dragging my sorry ass to New York.
