Page 39 of Wish We Were There

“No, I haven’t,” he answered honestly, shaking his head. Dating was far too daunting—he was about to enter a new phase in his life, and trying to meet someone now was poor timing at best. Once he was more settled into himself, and what it meant to no longer be a touring musician, maybe then he’d start looking, but... “To be honest, man, dating apps scare the shit out of me. Everything about dating and meeting people is just... so different from when we were in college, you know?”

Zach laughed, nodding. “That’s for fucking sure.” The tattoo under his eye crinkled with his smile. “Well, uh, I have some unsolicited advice for you in that regard.”

Taylor snorted. “Seriously, dude?”

“You want to hear it or not?”

“Fine, fine,” he laughed, gesturing for Zach to continue. The other man bit his lip, still half-smiling, as if considering what it was he actually wanted to say.

“I’m, like, almost a hundred percent positive Parker has always had a crush on you,” he finally said. Taylor gave a start—whatever he’d been expecting Zach to say, that certainly was not it. “So, you know, if you want to avoid all the dating app shit...”

“Parker? Really?” Taylor laughed, feeling his face flaming with heat. Parker was a sweetheart, sure, and a good-looking one at that, but... Really? He wondered if Zach somehow knew about his on and off attraction to Parker. He couldn’t imagine Parker seeing him that way.

“Damn, poor guy’s not even here to defend himself,” Zach said, lifting his hands in an appeasing gesture, making Taylor laugh—probably too loud, too nervously.

“No, it’s not that, I just—I never would have thought,” he said quickly. “It’s... It’s funny you say that, honestly, because I’ve always thought he’s cute. I had a little bit of a crush on him when we first met, but he never made a move, and then he introduced me to you, so... I figured he wasn’t interested, you know?”

Zach laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, god, don’t tell me I’ve been cockblocking this guy for a decade.”

“No, no!” Taylor protested. They were both laughing, but some small part of him was suddenly rethinking every interaction that he and Parker had ever shared. Parker was handsome and had always been kind to him, and he enjoyed reading Parker’s articles and his blog—he’d even listened to most of his podcast episodes—but had never really considered Parker might think the same about him.

Well, once the summer tour was over and things were officially ended with Zach, maybe he would revisit the prospect of Parker. Maybe there was something there after all.

“Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say,” Zach finally said. “Hope that isn’t too weird.”

Taylor shook his head. “Not at all. Thanks for telling me.”

Zach looked at him a moment longer, worrying his lower lip between his teeth—the movement made the small divots where his snakebites used to be more visible. After a beat, Zach added,

“Taylor, I... I just want you to know I’m really glad things worked out the way they did. I still care about you, and I hope we can still be friends after all this. I understand that some space from each other will probably be good, but... I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

Taylor’s gaze softened. He had a similar strange fondness toward Zach too—not quite affection, but stronger than friendship. It was weird to think of Zach as his ex when they still had such positive feelings for each other, but he was also entirely sure that whatever they had between them now was not romantic in the least. Still, Zach’s words made his heart constrict with emotion.

“I know,” Taylor replied, nodding. “I understand. Me, too.”

Now

There were still things Taylor needed to do to make sure everything was set up for the venue, but he found himself putting them off all week. His mind was always elsewhere—either wondering about Parker, or worrying about finally getting his cast off. Such a childish concern, but he couldn’t shake it.

After so long, he was almost afraid of seeing his arm underneath the cast. How badly would his muscles have atrophied? Would he need physical therapy? Would he be able to play the piano again? Even if he didn’t want to be making music anymore, playing piano had been a constant in his life since childhood, one he couldn’t imagine ever giving up fully.

Parker was texting him more often since he’d gotten back in town from his week in Tennessee, as if he somehow knew how despondent Taylor had felt about their last conversation. Anxiety tightened in his throat when he thought about how everything might still play out, but he also couldn’t deny how he liked the attention—the way Parker would text him good morning and good night, and would often call during the day so they could chat. Even though Parker had said he wanted to wait, it still felt like they were right on the precipice of something, and the anticipation was as pleasant as it was exhilarating.

But then he would think about the cast and his arm again, and his positive feelings would fizzle away into worry. Still, it was nice while it lasted.

The day of his appointment arrived eventually; he barely slept the night before, his stomach twisting with nerves the whole time. It made no sense to be so anxious, but when had his heart ever listened to sense?

Luckily, his appointment was in the morning, so he didn’t have to spend half the day waiting around nervously. Parker texted him when he arrived at the house; he had a to-go cup of coffee held out to him when Taylor climbed into his car.

“For you,” Parker said with a nervous smile, making Taylor grin back.

“I think my heart might explode if I drink this,” he said, but accepted it anyway and took a careful sip—it was a white chocolate mocha with nonfat milk and no whipped cream, his usual order. Taylor’s heart fluttered with pleasure this time, realizing Parker remembered it now. “Thank you.”

“Don’t be nervous,” Parker said, still smiling. “I had a cast off when I was a kid, and the blade doesn’t even reach your skin. Once they cut through the hard part, they use scissors for the bandage parts.”

Taylor smiled weakly. That wasn’t really what he was nervous about, but he didn’t know how to put his worries into words—he wasn’t even entirely sure what exactly had him so anxious.

“Yeah,” he agreed faintly, looking out the window. “You’re right.”

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