Page 22 of Filthy Little Secret

“And I wanted to be with a good guy, but I guess we can’t all get what we want, can we?”

“If you think fucking around with Tim Halwell is a way to protect yourself, you’re heading down a dangerous path.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“We both know what he is. What he does with guys. You think I’m bad? Why don’t you ask your buddy Keith about his games?”

I’ll have my chance. When I checked my phone this morning, I saw the message from him. He has the same question as Greg, and for a very good reason. Although, I don’t know how the fuck to explain this to him. I need to find a way, though, considering I agreed to have lunch with him.

Greg starts to head out, but glances at the bag one more time.

“It’s Tim’s laundry,” I say. I want to leave him with that…as a big fatFuck You. “Goodbye.”

He closes his eyes like he’s summoning the strength not to say anything else. Then he heads out, leaving me reeling in anger. Fury.

This isn’t what I wanted to come home to. Not while I still feel exhausted and tired and dirty from the night before.

After he leaves, I get cleaned up and watch some episodes of RuPaul’s Drag Race while I work on some homework. Although I don’t know what the fuck I want to do with my life, Mom encouraged me to major in poli-sci. Said it would be the perfect foundation to apply to law school. Her dream is I’ll enter the family business, but I don’t have any intention of following in her path. The life she lives is an exhausting one. As far as I’m concerned, I’m secretly majoring in biology.

As the afternoon rolls around, I get dressed and head out to meet Keith at the Starbucks on campus.

He wears a smile as he greets me, but I know he’s curious as fuck about last night.

“Hey, man,” I say as I sit and set my bookbag on the floor beside my chair.

“Last night was crazy for someone.” He’s obviously not beating around the bush.

“Yes, it was.”

“So…you and Tim?” I can hear the suspicion in his tone. See it all over his expression.

He feels like I’m keeping this from him. Like I was running around with his man behind his back.

“I don’t really know him,” I reply quickly.

“But you just hopped on his motorcycle with him? Come on. What’s the real story, Mark?”

“I talked to him the other day about the shit that he did with you. Told him off about it.”

It’s a half-truth…ish.

“And you became buddies over that?” he asks, his eyebrows pushing together as he struggles to make sense out of what I’m saying.

“No. He just doesn’t like Greg, either, and he was trying to get me out of a bad situation.”

“Did you fuck?”

“No.”

Not after he took me home last night, at least.

God, I wish Keith wasn’t still hung up on Tim. That makes what we’ve done so much more fucking complicated.

“Look,” I say. “I haven’t been like talking to you all this time about what he did to you and then been chatting him up behind your back. That’s all I’m saying. I saw him at a party the other week and again at school briefly. That’s it. He knows about what went down between us. He was trying to help me out last night because I was wasted. That was it.”

His suspicion settles. Although considering how defensive I was about it, I’m sure he must know I’m not being entirely honest right now.

The bead of sweat sliding down my forehead and my warm palms assure me I know I’m doing something wrong by keeping the truth from him, but I can’t tell him we’ve already fucked twice and that I wouldn’t mind doing it again.

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