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“But yeah, I haven’t really dated anyone in a long time. I’ve had a handful of relationships that lasted a few months here and there since then, but it was never anythingreallyserious. Then you know with the whole Ollie thing, dating went on the way, way,wayback-burner.” He takes a sip of his drink, turning and laying an arm along the back of the couch, his hand just behind my head. “What about you? Just the ex in Texas?”
“A few semi-serious boyfriends in high school, college was just lots of fun,” I say with a grin, “but Josh was the first real serious relationship, yeah.”
I let out a long breath. He knows a bit about Josh, but notallthe gory details. Connor just thinks that Josh was an asshole and I moved for a fresh start. He doesn’t know that the fresh start was needed because I feared for my life. I don't want to burden him, but I decide to tell him everything. I tell him about how we met, how things were great for a while, and then how out of control they’d spiraled. He tenses when I get to all the things that happened after we broke up, his jaw ticking, and his eyes hardening like he’s barely containing his rage. He moves his arm from the back of the couch, his fist clenched on his thigh.
“So, that’s when I took the job. It came at the perfect time and I just knew that if I didn’t get out of Galveston…well, he was never going to stop and, I don’t know, I just had this feeling that he was going to lose it soon, in a veryepisode-of-Criminal-Mindskind of way.”
He stares into the fire, that muscle in his jaw still flexing over and over. He absently runs the fingers of his left hand over the tattooed knuckles on his right, as if he’s imagining using them on Josh.
“Say something?” I finally say, though it comes out as a question. I know that I just threw a whole lot of crazy on him.
“I kind of want to kill the fucker,” he says, startling me. He turns to face me. “I’m sorry, but it’s true. To treat any woman like that…to treatyoulike that?” He shakes his head, lips pressed into a hard line. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Mac. Really.”
“Thanks. It was…scary,” I say, finally able to say the words out loud. I realize now that I haven’t really been able to talk to anyone about all of this. I tried to talk to my “friends” back home when it was all happening, but they hadn’t really cared, had barely even listened to me, or had defended Josh before I could even get a full sentence out, so I kept the worst of it to myself. I went through all of it completely alone.
But now, I can share it with Connor. Now, I have someone who will not only listen, but actuallyhearwhat I’m saying, who will empathize with me and let me feel whatever it is I need to feel without saying I’m overreacting or that it isn’t a big deal or think that I’m weak. Someone who cares about me enough to want to fucking kill the psycho-stalker ex who made my life a living hell for months and months. Tears spring to my eyes and his widen in alarm.
“I’m sorry, I’ve just…God, I’ve never said that out loud. I’ve never really had anyone to talk to about any of it before, so it just kind of hit me now. It was really fucking scary, Shep. If I had stayed, I think he would have…he would have…”
I cut off as the tears fall and I clap my hand over my mouth, unable to say the words out loud. Connor reaches out and pulls me into his arms. There is nothing sexual about it, it’s comfort he’s offering, nothing more, and I accept it like a drowning person clinging to a buoy. I let myself think about everything that had happened, everything thatcouldhave happened, let myself really feel everything for the first time.
When I was in the middle of it, I'd just been focused on the next hour, the next minute, the next second, wondering if he was going to be outside of every building I exited, wondering if I was going to see his car around every corner, wondering if I was going to wake up in the middle of the night with him standing over me. I'd been in a constant state of damage control I guess, just treading water and not really able to think about it all, not fully. Since the move, I’ve tried not to think about it, trying to just focus on the here and now, the new job and new friendships. Now, it all hits me like a fucking tank. I cry into his shoulder as he rubs his palm up and down my back in a soothing rhythm.
“It’s ok, Mac. It’s alright. You’re safe now. You got away. You don’t have to worry.”
Eventually I cry myself out and feel so much better. It’s like all of that had just been a giant weight sitting on my chest this whole time. I didn’t even really realize it was there, but now that it’s gone, I feel like I can finally really breathe for the first time in almost a year. I pull back from him and scrub my eyes.
“I’m so sorry," I say with a shaky laugh, "I’m a mess.”
“A hot one,” he says with a crooked grin but then he purses his lips. “I actually meant that as likeyou’re a hot mess, like you always say, not calling you hot. Though you are obviously hot…ah fuck, this isn’t working out. Let’s try that again. Take two.” He rolls his hand in the air in acome ongesture.
“I’m a mess?” I say, laughing again.
“Yes, you are. There, that was better.”
I disentangle myself from his arms, only now realizing the position we were in. We both decide that this was probably a good cue to call it a night. We head upstairs and stop in front of the guest room door.
“You good?”
“I am now. Thanks for…” Being there? Threatening to kill my terrible ex? Letting me cry all over you like a crazy person? “Just, thanks.”
“Of course. I’m always here, Mac. Whatever you need.” He holds my gaze for a moment that seems to go on forever, and I’m not exactly sure if he’s meaning as a friend or something more. I don’t know what I’m thinking, but everything around us seems to fall away. I feel myself rising up on my toes, leaning my face towards his without even realizing it. His eyes widen in surprise and he inhales sharply, but he doesn’t move away. I rest a hand on his chest and I swear he stops breathing completely. Time seems to be moving in slow motion as I run my fingers upward, across the soft skin of his neck, through the silky strands of hair that brush the top of his collar. I stare at his lips, soft breaths pushing past them, and move mine ever closer…
Oh my God, what am I doing?! With the state I’m in, with everything about Josh very raw and on the surface right now, crossing any lines with Connor would be aterribleidea. When—I meanif—we ever go there, I don’t want it to be because I’m an emotional mess. I shake myself and yank my hand down, taking a step backwards.
“Oh God, Shep, I’m sorry.” I run a hand through my hair, shaking my head. “That was…I’m just emotional and a little tipsy,” I say with a nervous grin, though I’m trying to hide it. “I’m sorry,” I say again.
We’re good enough friends that I don’tthinkthis almost-kiss will make things weird between us, but there’s a tiny sliver of doubt creeping in. He clears his throat and leans a shoulder against the wall beside the door, the picture of casual.
“Hey, no problem.” A small, crooked smirk curls his lips. “I warned you from the beginning you’d want to kiss me, remember? I’m honestly surprised you’ve held off this long. It’s quite admirable.” I laugh and slap him in the stomach, relief rushing through me that he doesn’t seem to be weirded out. Unflappable as always.
“Let’s just pretend that never happened, shall we then?”
He smiles but it doesn’t seem to reach his eyes, though of course I can’t be completely sure in the low light of the hallway. The overhead lights are off, the illumination coming from lights running along the baseboards at intervals, almost like nightlights.
“Goodnight, Shep,” I say quietly, turning the knob.
“Night.”
