Page 50 of Road to a Cowboy

“So that’s why you asked me out. Then, I mean, and not six months ago or two months from now.” Cal smirked, and it lit up his eyes. “You were jealous.”

“Uh, yeah,” Austin said shamelessly. “If you’re going to date someone, it’s going to be me. Not someone named Amelia.”

“That’s a perfectly reasonable name,” Cal said, clearly trying not to laugh.

“She sounds peppy.”

“Maybe she is.”

Austin pulled one foot from under Cal’s butt and poked him in the thigh with it. “But we’ll never find out,” he said pointedly.

“No, I don’t suppose we will.”

The easy agreement settled something in Austin’s chest. “Can I have the peanut butter back now?”

“Only if you promise not to murder it.” Cal handed it back.

“Only with my mouth.”

They stared at each other for a moment, a light dancing in Cal’s eyes, his lips twitching like he wanted to laugh.

“That made more sense in my head.”

Cal did laugh then, the sound enveloping Austin like a hug. “Sure, Austin.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, munching on crackers and passing the jar of peanut butter back and forth. It reminded him a bit of evenings spent in Lindsay’s dorm room, watching a movie or working on a project while eating bad cafeteria pizza.

There’d been an easiness with Lindsay too, similar to the one he shared with Cal, yet different. With Lindsay, especially at the beginning, there’d been the joy of discovery and learning all about another person. Their quirks, their values, their dreams. With Cal, that part was already done, so there was a familiarity and coziness between them that settled into Austin’s skin like a tattoo.

What must it have been like for Cal when Austin brought Lindsay home for Christmas vacation their sophomore year? Cal had never dated much, and Austin couldn’t help but wonder... Was that because he didn’t want to? Because he didn’t connect easily with other people?

Or because he’d been carrying a torch for Austin all these years?

That thought made him incredibly sad, but as much as he wanted the answer to that question, there was one he wanted more.

Setting his plate on the coffee table, he placed the jar of peanut butter on the couch between them. “How did you feel when Lindsay and I got married? Was it bad for you?”

Cal had been Austin’s best man. He’d had to stand by Austin’s side while Austin married someone else. Had to stand up in front of everyone and give a speech as though his heart hadn’t been breaking.

Lindsay, you fit Austin like an old cowboy boot, Cal had said during his speech. He couldn’t have found someone better to love him.

Austin blinked back tears at the memory. At the time, they’d brought him so much joy and comfort. Now, they were shadowed by knowing Cal had to have been hurting.

“No, it wasn’t bad,” Cal said. He, too, set his plate aside, and he cupped one of Austin’s knees with his big hand. His palm was rough against Austin’s naked skin, sending goosebumps up his leg. “Your wedding was inevitable,” Cal continued. “I always knew you weren’t meant for me. You said you didn’t think we could ever be a possibility back then? Well, neither did I. So you getting married...” He paused there and ran his free hand over his face, gaze going distant.

“It must’ve hurt you,” Austin said quietly.

“No,” Cal said quickly. “Like I said, I always knew you weren’t for me, so when you got married, it was like being proven right. You were so goddamn happy, Austin. I was just happy that you were happy, and I would’ve continued being happy for you even if Lindsay had lived and you’d had those two-point-five kids and a dog you guys wanted.”

“Screw the dog,” Austin muttered, his attempt at levity to rid himself of the tears in his eyes. The joke fell flat between them, sagging like a popped balloon.

Cal had always been selfless, but this... This was on another level.

He brought a hand up to cup Cal’s face, sweeping his thumb over his stubbled jaw. I love you, he wanted to say. I love you so fucking much.

But he couldn’t. This was too new, too fresh, barely a few hours old. If he wanted this to work long-term—god, he wanted this to work long-term, wanted it forever—he needed to take things slow. One day at a time. Make sure they fit as a couple as well as friends.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

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