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“Not really.” If anything, I’d continue to play third wheel with Creed and Jade. No thank you. I shrug. “Probably just come home after.”
Speaking of Creed… I turn around and yell up toward my room, “And you say I’m slow.”
“Okay, well you two have fun,” my mom says as I look back at her. “I need to get these dishes finished so I can throw myself together.” She gives me a soft smile before heading into the kitchen.
I wait for a second longer before frowning. Creed should have been back by now. What the hell was taking him so long?
Curious, I charge up the stairs and then down the hall. When I reach the threshold of my room my blood runs cold and I freeze, blinking as I will away what I’m seeing. No fucking way.
Creed is standing in front of my desk with my keys hanging from one finger. In the other hand is my fucking notebook.
As I accept the reality of the situation, panic seizes my lungs. I barely find my voice enough to push out a raspy plea. “Put that down.”
Creed does, tossing the notebook on my desk before he slowly brings his gaze to meet mine. His dark eyes appear…sad, and my heart sinks.
How did I let this happen? How could I have been so stupid? I feel like I’m crawling out of my skin, anxiety racing through my veins.
“The fuck is that, Jake?” Creed whispers in a voice so quiet I barely make out the words.
I open my mouth, lips parting and then clamping shut as I try and fail to find the words to answer him. What the hell am I supposed to say? He’s already read all of my truths, exposing my secrets to the last person I ever wanted to find out.
In response, I do the only thing that makes sense to me. I step inside my room and offer a shrug I hope appears nonchalant while lying through my teeth. “It’s not a big deal—”
“Not a big deal?” His eyebrows shoot high as he interrupts me, each word swelling with incredulity. “What the fuck, Jake? You’re gay?”
My temper flares at the question and I narrow my eyes. “You’re a smart guy, Creed. Think you can figure that out on your own.”
His shoulders ease as he scrubs his hand over his face. He honestly looks miserable. On one hand, I’m glad because that’s exactly how I feel. The other half of me is filled with guilt and regret.
When Creed remains quiet for what feels like eternity in that moment, my anxiety bubbles over spilling from my lips in a whisper. “Fucking say something.”
When Creed lifts his head, he stares somewhere over my shoulder. “What am I supposed to say, Jake? I’m confused, and I can’t fucking deal with this right now.”
He tosses my keys on the desk and then starts toward me, passing me by without another word.
“That’s it? You’re just leaving?” I hiss as I spin around and follow him into the hall, stopping just outside my door and speaking to his back.
Creed reaches the stairs and pauses with one hand on the banister. He finally meets my gaze just long enough to say, “Jade’s waiting.”
My chest locks tight as his words slice through my heart. They were meant to injure and he’d succeeded.
I watch as he tears his gaze away and continues down the stairs, disappearing from view. Devastated, I take a step backward into my room and ease the door closed. As I walk to my desk and sink down onto my chair I feel as if my world has tilted on its axis.
I glare at the stupid notebook that destroyed nearly eighteen years of friendship in less than five minutes. How had everything gone so wrong so fast?
A tap on my door startles me and I glance toward the sound of my mother’s voice on the other side. “Jake? Is everything okay?”
I wonder how much she overheard, but I need to deal with this myself. “Yeah, Mom. Everything’s fine. I’m going to go ahead and stay in tonight. Change of plans.”
“Well, all right.” The doubt in her tone rings clear, but it isn’t like I can be honest with her. She doesn’t know I’m gay. No one did until thirty seconds ago, and I’m just not ready for that talk, especially now. She continues speaking, voice slightly muffled. “There’s leftover chicken marsala in the refrigerator if you get hungry.”
I hate that stuff, but it’s Creed’s favorite so she made it last night when he came over for dinner. What if he never does that again? I swallow the rapidly forming lump in my throat and croak, “Thanks, Mom. I’m fine. You and Dad have a good time tonight.”
It’s a lie. I’m not fine, and I’m not sure if my friendship with Creed has any chance of survival after this clusterfuck. I shake my head. There’s so much history between us that ithasto be fixable. Not being friends with him isn’t something I can wrap my head around.
We both need to take the night to breathe and let the dust settle. And then tomorrow we can start mending what’s been broken.
CHAPTERTWO
