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I feel that each and every day.
“It’s the worst kind of loneliness, Brooks.”
“I know,” I whisper.
19
HENLEY
My heart beats fasterthan it should.
Excitement, nerves, anticipation maybe?
I’ve missed Brooks. Terribly.
I hated the way we left things after Glasgow. I blamed him, but in truth, it was me. All of it.
Imade the decision to keep Aaron a secret until the very last minute.
Iacted like I wanted him to kiss me. I pushed the limits of our friendship to the very edge because I wanted his lips on mine.
Ilied by omission to Aaron.
Every fractured feeling was my doing.
And I deserved the aftermath.
I told Aaron about Brooks the moment I walked back into his apartment. Guilt having claimed me completely.
He was pissed, understandably, ranting about trust and honest lines of communication. He told me he forgave me, that he understood temptation and appreciated that I stopped it before it went too far.
The truth is, it went further than he thought. His mind was focused on the physical when my heart was detaching itself from Aaron the moment I ran into Brooks on that darkened Glasgow street.
We may not have actually kissed, but the fact that I was a breath away from begging him to was warning enough. A warning I refused to heed. I needed him to want me the way only Brooks can. Openly and absolute.
There is no maybe with Brooks Riley. Not with me. When I’m with him, his longing is palpable. I can taste it, brushing along my lips, infiltrating my mouth, and slowly sliding down my body to wrap itself around my heart.
But I should’ve known better than to accept Aaron’s forgiveness so easily. I knew the strength of his pride. In hindsight, maybe I believed him because I didn’t really care.
I’m a terrible person. Just add it to my never-ending list of flaws.
Aaron fucked a co-worker that same night in retaliation, and my life in Glasgow went from contented to nonexistent. I left the following week and let myself get lost in the world again for months before settling.
Brooks reached out—of course, he did—but I wasn’t ready to apologize, my embarrassment and self-loathing too great to ignore. By the time I’d worked up the courage to call him, he shunned me, and our friendship as I knew it was over.
Until a few weeks ago when he friended me on social media.
Settling on my bed, I refresh my Wi-Fi, waiting impatiently for it to connect. I’ve been counting down the hours until I could call him. Time dragged, and I was nowovereager to talk to him, which meant I’d no doubt embarrass myself and regret this whole arrangement come morning.
We made the promise that we’d speak more often, and his voice has been the highlight of my weeks.
My laptop connects, the dial tone of Skype intrusive in the otherwise quiet room. It rings for longer than usual, my pulse quickening in panic at the thought he may not answer. But as quick as my hysteria builds, it’s extinguished just as fast. The sound of the dial tone cuts out, the grainy touch of his screen connecting.
“Hey.” He leans down, the wet droplets of his hair falling down his naked chest.
“Hey.”
“I for sure thought I was gonna miss you. I almost fell on my ass in the shower.” He smiles, and I can't help but do the same.
