Page 62 of Whiskey Neat

“Tell me. Please.”

“Being with you felt like being suffocated.” His tone is gentle, like he’s speaking to a child. “You made me your whole identity and it was overwhelming. There was a night between us in bed that I guess sort of pushed me over the edge. I should have ended things instead of cheating on you, but I was honestly afraid of your reaction if I tried to break up. You seemed so fragile.”

My stomach twists and my bottom lip quivers. “Fragile? What happened between us?”

“We had just fucked and you were clingy and started to cry.”

My heart clenches as my stomach drops to the floor. I remember.

“You told me how disappointing your sex life had been and how I was helping you heal. That’s a lot for a twenty-two-year-old guy to handle. It felt like you put all your happiness on me, and I wasn’t even close to ready for that. Obviously, I didn’t handle it correctly, and then you wouldn’t talk to me afterward for me to explain myself.”

I angrily wipe away the tear that escapes. “I understand.”

“And it sucked, Salem. I hated how we fell apart. If it was now, I’d be able to handle it. I’d be ready for a commitment like that. You deserve a guy who can love you wholly.”

“You can stop now, Blaine. I don’t need you to build my confidence. I needed to know what happened because…” I exhale in a huff to get my voice to stop shaking. “Because you were the closest thing I had to a real relationship, and it blew up. I needed to know why before I tried again.”

Blaine is silent for a beat before he adds, “For what it’s worth, you didn’t do anything except trust the wrong guy with your heart. I take the blame for not being able to talk it through maturely.”

“Okay. Uh, I appreciate your honesty, and I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

“No. I was just watching TV with my roommate.”

“I’ll let you go.”

“Wait, Salem. Are you dating someone?”

Oof, that’s a loaded question. Am I? I don’t even know. “It’s complicated.”

“Gotcha. Are you still living in the city?”

“No. I’m back in Willow Bay for a while. You?”

“Austin. Got a job out here.”

“Cool.” I’ve run out of things to say, and frankly, I don’t care how Blaine is spending his time these days. “Okay, well…”

“Before you go, can I ask for your forgiveness for how I handled things?”

“Sure, Blaine. I forgive you. I’m way over that part.”

“I’m glad you called. It’s been on my mind for years, but I didn’t know how to call you and fix it. It felt like opening a wound again, and I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.”

“I get it. Thanks for talking.”

“Yeah. Take care, Salem.”

“You too.”

I end the call and fall back on my bed. Hearing his reasons fucking hurt, like daggers in my chest, but it’s what I needed to know. Blaine was the last guy I let myself be vulnerable with, the last guy I bottomed for, the last guy I trusted, and it went to shit.

Indy might be an amazing person and epic in bed, but we agreed this is a casual thing, and letting myself feel anything more than that will only lead to a repeat of every broken relationship I’ve ever had.

The worst thing I could do is catch feelings for Indy and start letting him treat me like a boyfriend, only for him to wake up one day with a clingy, needy man and freak the fuck out. So that’s it then. No more blurring the lines. We don’t shower and snuggle and sleep together. We fuck, we work together, and we keep it a hundred percent chill. That’s the only way I can make sure I don’t fall into another hot guy, great sex trap.

Guard up, feelings repressed. I got this.

The next morning I busy myself in the office, working on finishing the spreadsheet I created with Lowen’s final choices. I’ve been practicing my cool, very relaxed approach to dealing with Indy, but when his deep voice reverberates in the hallway, my stomach does stupid little flips. Fucking hell.

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