Page 134 of Gunner

“Oh?” He walked toward the front doors, but I didn’t move. “Seriously, Gunner, what are we doing here?”

“Don’t worry, Chief. I’m not dragging you to the reverend to force you to marry me. You can come along.”

My face burned, and I hurried forward to catch up with him. “That never crossed my mind.”

But now that he’d said it, I couldn’t help but see it playing out in my head.

“Stop thinking about it, Benjamin,” Gunner said. “I’m not the marrying kind.”

I didn’t know how to respond, especially when he said my full name like that, so I kept my mouth shut. We entered the church, and I followed him down the aisle to the right through a door, then downstairs. Chattering and laughter drifted up.

“Is this some sort of cult?”

A grunt was his only response. The stairs led to a basement where about a dozen people sat facing the familiar figure of Reverend Homer. The minister gave us a cursory glance, then nodded at the woman who had been talking to continue. I followed Gunner’s example and sat next to him at the back. My heart thrummed. What was happening? Whatever it was, it would be monumental.

Less than a minute into listening to the woman, I figured out why we were there. We were at an AA meeting. It all made sense, the way he always drank water, even when liquor was flowing. That day of the barbecue at the clubhouse when he kept pouring out his beer when he thought no one was looking.

I glanced at Gunner, but he was staring ahead with a single-minded focus that stole my breath. I slipped my hand in his, entwining our fingers. He lowered his gaze to our hands and squeezed, which I returned.

“Is there anyone else who would like to share?” Reverend Homer asked. “No? Then we—”

Gunner released my hand and rose to his feet.

“You don’t have to do this,” I said quietly. “I get it.”

“It’s now or never,” he said and walked up to the front.

“Go ahead,” Reverend Homer said encouragingly. He had a smile on his face like a proud parent. Were he and Gunner close?

“My name’s not important,” Gunner said. “But I’m an alcoholic. If anyone has guessed or recognized who I am, you might have an idea why I’ve never admitted that out loud before. Drinking is a way of life for people like me. Hell, by the time I was twelve, I was drinking and partying with my pop. Of course it all seemed cool at that age, and you think nothing of it ’cause everyone around you is drinking. But it started fucking with the way I handled my shit. I lost control of a lot of things, let a lot of people down. Drinking takes away my ability to see the big picture—to see what matters to me—who matters to me.”

Gunner was staring directly at me when, for the entire speech, he’d looked everywhere but in my direction.

“I’m not perfect. In fact, I’m a downright asshole, but I figured if I drink a little less, I might be a more tolerable asshole who gets things done. I’m almost a month sober and have no fucking clue if I’m going to make it, but I’ve glimpsed the future as a sober man, and I don’t hate what I see at all.”

Gunner returned to his seat, and silence filled the room. He scowled. “Everyone gets a cheer after every share, and I spill my guts for the first time, and no one claps?”

A tentative cheer went up, and I laughed. I couldn’t help it. As Gunner sat, I cupped the back of his head and pressed my lips to his. I wanted to say so much to him, but Reverend Homer was talking again. We waited until they closed the meeting, then were the first to beat a hasty retreat. I didn’t miss the polite nod of acknowledgment the reverend gave Gunner.

“What was that?” I asked as we burst out of the church.

“What?”

“That look the reverend gave you? You two having some sort of secret affair or something?”

Frowning, Gunner caught my shoulder and pulled me closer. “Is that what you really think?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I was cheated on.”

“Ben, if I was cheating on you, I wouldn’t have brought you here tonight. Do you really not get the significance of bringing you here?”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“This is the part of myself that no one else knows, and I’m sharing that with you because I know what Mason did hurt you. I don’t want to keep secrets from you like he did. I want us to move on from Mason because I haven’t felt this good about being with someone in a long time. Maybe ever.”

“What are you saying?”

“That you make falling in love seem like it’s not such a bad thing after all.” My knees buckled, and I swayed toward him. “I want to be with you, Ben.”

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