Page 7 of Whiskey Neat

Once inside, I set my stuff down and plop onto the slightly dated but very comfy couch. It’s dark down here, with low ceilings and a faint musty smell, but it’s home. My siblings and I spent most of our lives down here playing video games with friends or watching movies. My sister Brooklyn had her sweet sixteen party here and me and my older brother Aspen crashed it with silly string. A smile tugs at my lips, remembering the shrieks from the girls.

That was the night I realized I might be gay. My seventeen-year-old brother couldn’t stop talking about the girls in their nightgowns and pajama tops. All I heard from him was boob talk and how nice girls smell. I had zero physical reaction to ten scantily clad teenage girls, and I was almost fifteen at the time.

When he told me, in graphic detail, about his first sexual experience and what a girl’s naked body felt like, I was fascinated by the fact that he’d engaged in such a grown-up activity, but I had no curiosity about what a girl felt like. I did, however, catch glimpses of the boys during gym class and how their junk bounced in their shorts when they ran. I usually sat on the sidelines, feigning an asthma attack—never mind that I don’t have asthma, it gave me a great vantage point.

My first sleepover with my friend Jackson solidified what I already suspected. We compared dick sizes, which became touching each other, which eventually led to blow jobs. There was no point denying it anymore. I liked boys.

I tried to be interested in girls. Lord, did I try. Bless sweet little Bethany Newton for going to homecoming with me. She made it very clear that making out and feeling under her dress was acceptable. Jackson and I had promised each other we’d do something with the girls. Neither one of us wanted to be gay, so after the dance we took our dates to the lake and tried making out.

Yeah, that was… embarrassing. Bethany was primed and ready for action and my dick was in hiding. The girls offered blow jobs, which we both accepted, and I got through it by watching Jackson. Of course it felt good to have someone’s mouth on me, but the disconnect wasn’t lost on me.

After months of secretive groping and blow job sessions with my friend, I decided to come out, but Jackson didn’t, distancing himself once the kids at school started adding gay slurs to the list of things they could bully me for. Good times. I lost a friend and my only gay sex outlet.

I grab my phone from the coffee table and scroll my contacts. Bethany is still there, but I erased Jackson in tenth grade. I heard she’s married with two kids now. We’re not even thirty yet.

My memories drift back to my parents’ expressions when I came out. Dad, slightly disappointed, Mom uncomfortably supportive. Aspen told me they all knew it, but Dad was probably holding out hope that it was a phase. Can’t blame the guy. He was raised in the Bible Belt by strict Baptist parents. In spite of that, he’s done his best to understand and accept me, even if I suspect he’s still hoping it’s a phase.

After a few minutes of indulging in the memories, I pull myself up and head to the tiny bathroom for a shower. Tonight I’ll enjoy Mom’s cooking and soothe my wounded ego. Tomorrow I’ll start figuring out how to put my life back together and get the hell out of this sleepy town.

THREE

INDIANA

It’s been a month since I made the most insane decision of my life and dragged all five of my best friends into it with me. Now they’re all standing behind me as I unlock the door and step inside the darkened space. Last week, we toured it with a contractor to get a quote on renovations, and today it’s officially time to start.

“Gawwwd,” Lowen says, pushing past me and waving the dusty air away from his pristine face. “We need to start by airing it out.”

“Obviously.” Ridley glances around with his hands on his hips. “What time is Oakley going to be here?”

“Oakley is such an unusual name,” Kit says.

Ridley nods, grinning. “It suits him. Fitting for a man I’d love to climb like a big old oak tree.”

“Keep it in your pants until the work is done, huh?” Lowen scolds. “It’s not easy getting the best contractor on the Eastern Seaboard to spend his time in Willow Bay.”

Ridley holds his hands up. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’ll be cool.”

I lean on the old bar with my arms folded across my chest, and simply enjoy all the memories, feeling happy and full—two emotions I haven’t felt in a long time. “I’m really glad you guys are here.”

Bane smiles, turning to face me. “Where else would we be?”

“Either you have amazing timing or we all have shit luck,” Kit teases, playfully shoving my arm.

“It’s timing,” Jerryn says. “We were meant to come back together.”

I’d like to believe that. “It’s been eighteen years. We were just kids, all full of dreams and optimism.”

Lowen frowns. “You sound unhappy with your plight.”

“I’m not. Not anymore. Jer is right. We were meant to be together again. Obviously, we all needed a change.”

Lowen nods, twisting his lips. “I swear your call felt like a lifeboat as I stood on the bow of a sinking ship.”

“Still dramatic after all these years,” Ridley teases, grabbing Lowen’s waist and pulling him into a hug.

Lowen pushes him away, but I spot the glimmer of amusement and affection in his expression. “Eww.”

Not much has changed about us, yet somehow everything has. Kit is still gorgeous, but he’s a hunky bear of a man now with a trail of broken hearts behind him that rivals my own. Lowen is as stunning and glamorous as ever, but he’s a lot more feminine than he was when he left, wearing full makeup and heels. He’s nailing it though, fully comfortable in his own skin.

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