Page 3 of Wish We Were There

Taylor set down his drink on the railing of the balcony, then placed his hand on top of Parker’s, where it still rested on the cast. Parker’s heartbeat quickened in response, and he was sure Taylor could feel the thrum of his rapid pulse where their skin touched.

God, what was wrong with him? Taylor was his friend, coming to him for comfort after his husband fucking died, and he was still reacting like the lovesick boy he’d been all those years ago.

But Taylor squeezed his hand gratefully, his palm warm against Parker’s fingers. “Thank you,” Taylor said, his voice trembling. “For understanding. And being here for me. I really… I really appreciate it.”

The words wouldn’t come, so Parker only nodded and gave the other man’s forearm a light squeeze. After a moment, Taylor pulled his hand away.

“We can just cancel today,” he offered, opening the untouched sparkling water that was still in his hand.

“Let’s reschedule,” Taylor replied, his voice sounding firmer now. “I still want to do this. Really, Parker, I do. I just... need to think. I need to figure out what I want to say. Are you free tomorrow?”

“Okay,” Parker agreed, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Are you sure you want to do it tomorrow? It isn’t too soon?”

“Tomorrow,” Taylor repeated, and Parker chuckled.

“Yeah, I can do the same time tomorrow,” he said after glancing over his schedule. He’d planned to spend tomorrow working on the one article a week he was still writing for Punk News Net, but he could do that today instead of editing the podcast recording. If he could get the article busted out today, Tim wouldn’t give him any shit for his podcast again.

“Thank you,” Taylor said, smiling shakily at him again. “I... I think I’m just gonna go home. Figure out what it is I want to say. Maybe make some notes or something, I don’t know.”

Parker grinned. “Yeah, sounds good. Whatever you wanna do.”

Suddenly Taylor was beside him, squeezing him in a hug with his good arm. Parker’s heart had only just slowed back down to a normal rate, but skyrocketed all over again at the unexpected contact. He returned the hug slowly—was it grief or longing that made his throat feel so tight?

Taylor held him for a long moment, far longer than Parker would have expected. But he couldn’t let himself think too much about it—Taylor was his friend. He just went through a traumatic experience. Of course he would need affection and care. That was all.

“Thank you,” Taylor said softly, before stepping away. “I really appreciate it, Parker. You’re seriously the best.”

“I—Well, yeah, no problem,” Parker stammered, still unsure of how to react.

“I should go,” Taylor said, slipping past Parker back into his apartment. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Parker said faintly, watching him leave. He realized just as Taylor was slipping out the front door that his drink was still on the railing, forgotten. “I—yeah, tomorrow. Okay.”

Chapter Two

Taylor

Taylor was out of Parker’s apartment and halfway through the elevator ride back down to the first floor before his face finally stopped burning. What the hell was wrong with him? What was he even doing?

For months, all he could focus on was how badly he wanted to talk about Zach, how much he wanted to tell Parker about everything; but now here he was, running away from his first opportunity. He’d wanted this—he really, truly had. And then he was in front of Parker with his warm eyes and his friendly smile, and all the words he’d rehearsed in his head were completely gone. Zach would have been disappointed in him.

As the elevator dinged, and the door slid open, Taylor stifled a groan and rubbed his face with his good hand. And hugging Parker like that, too? The last time he had hugged Parker was at Zach’s funeral. There hadn’t been anything weird about it then, but that was definitely weird. What the hell would Parker think of him now?

No, Parker was sweet. He was kind and understanding, and he knew Taylor better than just about anyone. He wouldn’t think anything of it. It was a hug between friends, nothing out of the ordinary. Taylor was the one being weird about it. Hopefully, Parker hadn’t picked up on it.

He kept ruminating on it for the entire drive home, wondering what possessed him to do it, and alternating between immense regret and the thought of hugging him again tomorrow. He was touch-starved, he decided when he was turning at the light onto his street, and that was it.

Another car was parked in front of his house, making his heart leap into his throat. It took him a moment to recognize it as Kylie’s car. What the hell was she doing here?

Her car door opened, and she scrambled to get out as he pulled into the driveway. His chest ached with guilt. Maybe he had been avoiding everyone too much if she was showing up at his house.

“Taylor!” she called. Her hair was a bright acid green today—it had been yellow the day of the crash and at Zach’s funeral, but he wasn’t sure if he had seen her at all since then. “What the hell, dude? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for days!”

For one wild moment, Taylor considered hurrying inside and locking the door behind him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Kylie, not really—everyone in the band was friends—but the prospect of facing her, or any of his bandmates, made him feel sick to his stomach.

But Kylie had clearly been worried about him if she’d been waiting for him to come home. So he gritted his teeth and stood there as she hurried up the driveway to join him at the front door. Her outfit looked perfectly put together—a crop top under an oversized, dark jacket, black and white plaid pants, and black combat boots—which only made him feel sloppy and unkempt in comparison. His style had always been more plain compared to Kylie’s and Zach’s, but seeing how perfectly normal she looked made him even more self-conscious. He’d just thrown on a t-shirt and jeans and his Converse—all casually grunge at best—but his shirt was wrinkled, and his hair was messy.

He hadn’t felt it with Parker, but looking at Kylie made him feel painfully aware that the rest of the world had gone on without him.

---