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“You don’t think?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Do you think he’ll want to get to know me? Not just as his employee but, you know, as his kid?” She was Brand’s best friend, and if Wyatt was going to trust anyone’s opinion on that, it was hers.
Ramie smiled. “Yes, I do. He really did regret being forced out of your life. Don’t be scared to tell him.”
“I will. I knew I needed to be honest with him and Jackson.”
“But Jackson found out before you could tell either of them.”
“Yeah. I was working my way up to doing it tomorrow. Me and Jackson both have the day off. I could sit him down and explain it all from the start. He knows a lot of it. I told him about the keeping secrets thing, and he knows I’m looking for my bio dad. I was going to tell him I thought it was Brand, I was just waiting.”
“You kept finding excuses to put it off instead of biting the bullet and taking the pain.”
“I don’t know. I don’t understand who told Jackson. Would Brand just blurt it out right before a big family dinner?” He’d seen the vehicles of the extended Woods siblings parked by the family home.
“To Jackson? Unlikely, especially now that they aren’t together. If Brand was going to tell Jackson it would have been before.” She pressed her lips together. “The only person I can imagine him confessing it to is Hugo, but I’d be really surprised if Hugo didn’t already know. They’ve been together for a while.”
Hugo kind of made sense as the person Brand might have confessed this baby secret to, but Ramie also made a good point about how long Brand and Hugo had been together. Maybe Brand had taken a mental step forward in how serious their relationship was and decided to share the secret tonight. But why on earth would Hugo have told Jackson about it?
So many questions and Wyatt had no answers.
“However it happened,” Wyatt said, “Jackson found out before I could tell him and he’s so hurt. I never meant to hurt him, I swear. I have crazy strong feelings for him.”
“Do you love him?”
“I think so. I’ve never felt real romantic love before, so I’m not sure, but I think I do. Not like it matters now, though, not if I’ve completely broken his trust. He’s been through hell, Ramie, and I knew that his one big thing was being able to trust me. I don’t know if I’ll ever get him back.”
“I don’t know, either. Jackson and I are only casual friends. I don’t know him the way you and Brand do, so I can’t speak on it. All I can do is give you the best advice I can muster right now, and that is to be honest going forward. One hundred percent honest about your feelings, your actions, and your intentions.”
“He said if I didn’t tell Brand the truth by Tuesday morning then he would.”
She nodded slowly. “Then I guess you’ve got to have a very important conversation with your boss by tomorrow night.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m going to be mad at you for a while longer yet for lying to me, but I’m not going to get dramatic and kick you out. You’re so young, and you’re trying to find your footing in a very fucked-up world. We all make mistakes at every age, but especially when we’re twenty. Learn from those mistakes. Grow. If you and Jackson are meant to be, you’ll figure it out. If not, then he was a stepping stone on your path toward being a human adult navigating relationships.”
I don’t want him to be a step, I want him back. Period.
“Thanks,” he said instead. “I’ll, um, disappear for a while so you don’t have to look at me while you’re mad.”
“Much appreciated. And believe you’ll have a good conversation with Brand tomorrow. I do.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Wyatt hauled his exhausted body off the couch and trudged to his bedroom. Shut the door and spread out on top of the covers. A gaping maw of uncertainty loomed in front of him, dark and dreadful, and he had no idea if he’d be able to pass by, or if that terrifying, lonely darkness would swallow him whole.
Chapter Eighteen
Jackson stared at the bubbles rising from the depths of his beer glass, mesmerized by their constant dance from where they formed at the bottom, to the top of the glass, where they broke and released their tantalizing aroma. He’d fucked around once with a guy who was a professional bartender, and he’d once waxed poetic about beer, temperatures, carbonation, and the way your sense of smell worked in tandem with your tongue to create the best beer flavor experience. Or something.
Bubbles were bubbles.
He’d left Ramie’s place and headed straight for Blue Tavern to drown his confusion, anger, and grief in beer and free popcorn. He hadn’t eaten dinner and while the place had a meager selection of bar food, he wasn’t in the mood to eat. Just to drown in booze for a while. Dog will have probably peed on the carpet by the time he got home but he didn’t care. His fault for going from work to see Wyatt to here.
The beer wasn’t giving him the buzz he wanted, so when the place’s lone waiter came by Jackson ordered two whiskey shooters. The waiter gave the order to Darlin’, who shot him a curious look from across the bar, but didn’t come over or inquire about Jackson’s bad mood. Jackson was grateful for that. While he appreciated the staff looking out for their patrons and considered Darlin’ an almost-friend, Jackson didn’t want to be consoled or questioned.
