Page 24 of My First Time Fling

And he was true to his word. I unlocked the front door and taped a note to it telling him to come in, then went back to the kitchen to finish the patch of wall I’d been working on. Jesse must have driven right over, because I felt like barely any time had passed before I heard his voice behind me.

“Oh my God,” he said.

I turned around to see him staring, wide-eyed, at me. I hadn’t heard him come in and I wondered how long he’d been standing there.

“Hey,” I said. “How’s it going?”

“Mark, did you do all this yourself?” Jesse took a step into the kitchen, then stopped to gaze around the room. “I was just here a few weeks ago, and this looked completely different.”

“Yeah.” I shrugged uncomfortably. “I know it would look better if a contractor had done it.”

“No. No, it really wouldn’t.” He began walking around the kitchen, peering up at the cabinets and running his hands along the countertops. He paused by the island in the center of the room and looked over at me. “This is gorgeous. Trust me, I’ve worked in some swanky places over the years, and this is beautiful craftsmanship. Where did you learn how to do all of this?”

“I don’t know, the internet? I guess I just picked it up. I like working with my hands, you know? Making things. Putting things back together. You can count on your tools and your materials. You treat them well, they’ll treat you well. It’s easier than dealing with people sometimes, you know? Tools don’t have expectations of you.” Jesse laughed, and I flushed. I hadn't meant to ramble like that. “That sounds kind of dumb, doesn’t it?”

“No, not at all. I’m just adding it to the list. Another side of you. Multiple marathons, a gym rat, practically a motivational speaker, and now you might as well be a general contractor. You’re a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside a, what, an MMA fighter’s body?”

“I’m not really that complicated. Or that interesting. I just…”

I stopped, looking at Jesse, really looking at him for the first time tonight. I was tired of trying to hide my past, tired of being afraid of what he would think. He was my friend. He wouldn’t reject me if I told him, right? Even if he didn’t like it?

“I was in the Army.” I exhaled, long and slow. It felt good to say it out loud. “ROTC in college, then two tours. Got out about a year ago. All the stuff you’re talking about, it’s just, I don’t know. Stuff I picked up along the way. I majored in engineering, and I was always tinkering with my equipment when I was deployed.”

“Oh.” Jesse’s eyes widened, and I could tell he was trying to process it all.

Did he think it was weird? Some people looked down on you for being in the military, like it made you dumb or evil or something. That was one reason I never told people.

Another was that no one ever knew how to react when I told them I’d served. They either got really uncomfortable, or gave me an awkward, ‘Thank you for your service.’Or, even worse, they had a million questions that I never knew how to answer. Too often, once someone knew that part of my past, it was like they put me on a pedestal or thought I was a monster, with nothing in between.

I just wanted to be normal.

Jesse smiled. “I guess I can kinda see why you wouldn’t want to talk about that. It’s probably hard to explain it to anyone who doesn’t know what you’ve been through. I bet you get some weird reactions, too.”

“I—yeah.” I looked at him, amazed. “That’sexactlyit. It’s almost weird that you get that.”

“Hey, I’ve been pretty weird my whole life. I came out in fourth grade. When my parents got divorced, kids in my class told me my dad left because he didn’t want a gay son. Obviously, they didn’t know what they were talking about, but that didn’t stop them from trying to make me feel bad for being different.”

“That sucks.”

“It wasn’t great, that’s for sure. But my point is just, I haven’t shared your experiences, but I do know what it’s like for people to make assumptions.” He grinned. “And we don’t have to keep talking about it. What I do want to talk about, though, is this backsplash. It looks awesome. Did you do your own tile work?”

He walked over to the sink to inspect it, and I joined him, shaking my head. I had not expected Jesse to react so calmly. I wasn’t prepared for it at all.

And now that I was standing next to him, aware of the mere inches separating his body from mine, the urge to kiss him, to pull him against me, was almost overwhelming. Fuck, I had to get it together. He wasn’t interested. I had to accept that.

“You’re shivering,” I said, suddenly noticing that he was shaking slightly and had his arms wrapped tightly around himself. How could that be, when the night was so warm?

Jesse looked up at me, all cheekbones and dark eyelashes, and my breath caught. His nostrils flared, and I wondered if maybe, just maybe, he was experiencing the same reaction that I was just now.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” he said finally, looking down.

I took a breath, forcing myself to step away from him. “I should close the windows. I only had them open because I was painting. But I’m sure you’re exhausted anyway. Let me lock up, and I can take you to bed—I mean, show you which bedroom you can use. Like, platonically. By yourself. Shit, I’m sorry, I’m not usually this weird. I blame the paint fumes.”

Jesse just laughed.

I put him in the guest room next to mine and showed him where the bathroom was. Gigi had a badCostcohabit, so there was a ready supply of extra toothbrushes in the hall closet. He said good night, promising he’d try not to wake me up when he left.

I walked back to my bedroom to give him some privacy in the bathroom, only going back to brush my teeth once he was done. I could see his doorway from the bathroom sink and noticed he’d left the door ajar. Was that on purpose?

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