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Because I don’t know how to fix any of this.
“I d…” he starts and chokes on his words. “I’m so fucking alone right now Zeke. I’ve been thinking about this, and it replays in my head over and over, and every time I think to bring it up, I convince myself that I’m crazy, but maybe I’m not.”
“What? Just tell me what to do.”
I know what can fix this. I need to tell him how I feel, but I can’t. I’m still so damn broken, and I can’t let my brokenness consume him.
“I’m going to explore this thing with Cole…”
My eyes widen and I step toward him again, “ You’re not, you can’t. Please don’t lea-”
“I’m not leaving you. I’m going to see what this is with him…. And with you. I had every intention tonight of talking to you about this. Seeing if we could all go out… together. Then all of this…”
“You want both of us?” I’m so damn confused and if I were in a better state of mind, maybe I’d be on board, but right now I’m terrified that he’s going to leave. I’ve never been the possessive type, and all I want is for Riot to be happy, but the idea that it could be without me is too painful to swallow.
“I think…” he wipes the last of the tears from his eyes with his shoulder. “I think that things are really dark right now, and Cole is light. We need some sort of light because we are so fucking lost in all this darkness. It’s eating us alive.”
“I c-can’t… I don’t know.”
“Zeke, I can’t keep accepting these tiny pieces of you. These scraps of affection you’re willing to feed me, holding out hope that you’ll give me more. But at the same time I can’t let you go. I won’t let you go. Because I really fucking love you.”
“Then what is opening things up going to do?” I sniffle and I can’t hold back the tears.
“Like I said Zeke, we really need the light right now. And I’m so damn tired of feeling alone.”
“And if I say no?”
I don’t think I mean it. I don’t think I’d actually deny him, because when I’m in my right state of mind, I could never deny that there is something between him and Cole. I couldn’t even deny that I felt things too, because something about Cole intrigues me. But if I can’t fully give myself to one man, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to give myself to two.
“I don’t know. But I know that I can’t fucking live without you Zeke Adams. You’re part of me. But this is it. You’re going to give me this, you’re going to try this because maybe this is what I need, and so far everything has been about what you need. So Friday night, you’re going to meet me and Cole at the Underground, and I swear to god Zeke, if you don’t show up… I’m not crawling back into your bed. I have to love myself more than that.”
Riot takes a step forward, and I’m at a loss for words. He cups both sides of my face with his massive hands, and swipes away my tears with his thumbs. “Maybe if you stopped punishing yourself for one fucking night, you’ll see that you need this too.”
He presses his lips to mine tenderly. Softly. It’s no more no less, just his plush lips resting against mine, reiterating every word he said. And it all makes the tears fall faster. Pulling away, he swipes his thumb across my lips, and neither of us say a word as he grabs his jacket off the countertop and walks out.
Wiping my eyes with the sleeve of my hooded sweatshirt, I exhale the weight of the world.
Riot West can’t live without me.
And I can’t live without him.
So I’ll give him what he needs. Or at the very least, I’ll try.
Chapter sixteen
Cole
With the joint pinched between my lips, I cock my head to the side, examining the canvas from a different angle. Something is missing but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Ever since I opened my website for commissions, I’ve been dabbling in cityscapes, but it’s not really where my heart lies and the work always feels incomplete.
It used to be that I only sold whatever I’d already created on my own, but commissions are the only real way to make a consistent profit lately, and with the rent for this studio, I have to start bringing in just a little bit more income than I bring home from Rico’s. So as much as it pained me, I sucked it up, created the custom request forms, and the orders began flooding my inbox.
Setting the paintbrush on the tray of the easel, I wipe my paint covered hands on my jeans. Sucking in hard, I take a long hit as I reach up and pull the joint away from my lips, holding the smoke in for a beat before I exhale. This client requested a sunset over the bridge, and the shades of violet, pink, and orange peek through the heavy cotton candy clouds, bringing a certain brightness to the painting, but it doesn’t feel like enough. Taking one more hit, I bend down and stub the roach out in the ashtray on the floor beside me.
Opening tubes of cerulean, white, and violet, I squeeze small drops of each shade onto my palette and pick up my paint brush, quickly mixing and blending the colors until I’m satisfied with the resulting beautiful, intense, blue-lavender shade. With short strokes across the canvas, I begin blending the shade into the edges of the sunset for added depth, all while I let my mind wander.
I’m not sure what I was thinking tonight. What on earth possessed me to just plant my lips on Riot’s the way that I did. It wasn’t intense, or deep, just this short moment of pressing my lips against his, after battling with the voices in my head that told me it was a really bad idea. It was nothing like I had imagined. It was awkward on my part, because the moment I leaned in, it hit me that I was making a huge mistake. That I’d regret taking that leap. Now I find myself wondering if I’ll ever get a do-over.
Great job man.
