Page 79 of Provoking the Punter

He could imagine spending it with Chester. What did he do for Christmas? It wasn’t as though he went home to hang out with his father. They hadn’t even talked about it. There was so much they hadn’t discussed.

He sat in the car a little longer to read the message.

I spoke to Caitlin and agreed to the plan. I haven’t called you because I am still processing the situation, and I don’t want to say something I’ll regret. I guess this is how you find out that I don’t argue. I step away so I can think things through. I’m not walking away from you. I’ll see you tomorrow as per the schedule.

Garrett read the message twice to be sure he’d read it correctly. It wasn’t a breakup. He wasn’t sure what it was. Only that Chester had signed it off with an emoji heart as if to reiterate the fact that it wasn’t over between them. It just felt that way because instead of being with him, Chester had vanished.

Not that Chester could’ve been with him today. Not physically, anyway.

He hesitated before replying, but Chester hadn’t said not to contact him.

I could’ve done with knowing that this morning, instead of thinking the worst.

It might’ve been a bit easier for him to deal with everything if he’d known that he still had a boyfriend.

If I had spoken to you this morning, it would have been over. I don’t want that. Do you?

No

Then we will figure this out together. Tomorrow.

That was the warning to stop messaging, but Chester was oh so diplomatic. It might’ve been easier if he’d called and yelled and ranted because then Garrett would’ve known that the poison had been spilled.

Twenty-four hours ago, he had everything he wanted. Then it had been knocked out of his hands and there was nothing he could do but wait.

Usually he was good at waiting, even though Chester said he rushed. He only rushed when it was time to move. Now he needed to move because the idea of sitting still was too much.

What if Chester slept on it and decided it was too much?

He reread the texts. No, if that was what Chester was considering, he’d have said it. Instead, he’d been very honest about how he was feeling and that he wanted Garrett.

There was a plan, and they’d work out the rest. He read the last message again.

Together. Tomorrow.

It was the first Monday he hadn’t seen Chester since they’d started this thing. As he laid down that night, he stared at the ceiling, hating how empty the bed was. He didn’t sleep for all the wrong reasons.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-EIGHT

“I really don’t feel like doing anything,” Chester grumbled. He wanted to sit and think and hurt and be on his own.

“Which is why I am dragging you out of your office and to my place for dinner,” Preston said as though it made sense.

“I don’t want to be around a happy couple right now.”

“I’ve invited the others.”

Chester scowled. That didn’t improve the request. He’d be expected to be social with his friends. They’d expect him to explain everything in more detail, and he didn’t want people commenting, though that horse had bolted as everyone was already discussing his relationship with Garrett.

“I can’t.” He couldn’t face it. He didn’t want to deal with any of this.

“Why? It’s not like you to turn down dinner.”

A lump formed in his throat, and he couldn’t form a smile or a glib response. He wanted to have dinner with Garrett. It was Monday. They would’ve ordered room service and talked and made out and made love. Instead, he was hiding in his office because some asshole wannabe reporter had already come into the restaurant to ask him questions about what it was like dating a closeted player.

He didn’t know what it was like because they hadn’t gotten a damn chance.

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