Page 33 of The Idiot

“I can’t believe you did this after I specifically asked you for space.”

“But…”

“Butwhat?”

“But you were… You’ve been all weird! And you keep acting like I don’t know you or support you! And then you said you’d hide out in your room if you weren’t happy, and I thought, that’s awful. I thought maybe if you knew you had support that you’d feel better, more confident.” Glancing at the room, he looks back at me hopefully. “Do you want to go talk to some people? I saw a guy with a beard about your height. Or… what about that little fella with the collar thing? He looked like he was into you.”

The man I’m in love with wants to pawn me off on strangers. My teeth are going to break, I swear.

“Jesse… I don’t care what you do, just stay away from me.”

“Okay,” he replies, sounding smaller, and I hate that I’ve made him feel that way. I hate that I’m still mad and that it has more to do with me than him. “Right. You probably don’t want people to think we’re together.” He nods as though he’s figured out some riddle. “I didn’t think about that. Cool. Well, do you want to get breakfast tomorrow?”

It’s official. I am going to hole up in my room for the rest of this cruise. I’m in hell. Finger-fighting hell because my stupid heart decided to fix itself on the clueless, big-hearted man in front of me.

Shaking my head, I turn toward the stairs. “That’s the wrong kind of harness,” I mutter, feeling like a child. "And who wears a women's strip club shirt on a gay cruise?"

Maybe it’s not the wrong kind of harness. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and he can rappel off the side of the ship into a lifeboat. Because that’s the only way I have a remote chance of enjoying this Gaytober-fucked-up-beyond-all-recognition-fest now.

CHAPTER 7

Jesse

“Oh, yeah. Right there. Uhn,” I groan as the pressure in my shoulder dissipates.

“You are so tense,” Walt laments, his skilled fingers kneading the knots like he’s crumbling stones. Damn, he’s strong for a senior citizen. “It’s no wonder you said you didn’t sleep last night.”

“I was just so upset about this whole thing with Murph, but I didn’t think it’d affect me physically.”

“And here I thought Darnell and I cheered you up yesterday,” he jests, shifting his hands to the other side, nearly making my eyes cross when he finds a tense muscle.

“You did!” I reassure them, flashing his husband an empathetic look where he’s reclining on the next deck lounger. “You guys took my mind off of things over cards.”

Plus, they had snacks. I didn’t even think to bring my own snacks with me. Old people are so resourceful.

“We brought our chess board with us,” Darnell comments, handing me another of the makeshift hors d'oeuvres he made up from their supply of gourmet crackers and a log of salamithey scored from the kitchen staff. “You’re welcome to join us in our cabin for dinner. We can see who loses their queen first.”

His sly grin tells me that’s a dare. I love that their competitive spirit hasn’t faded with age. I’m so lucky I met the two of them. They remind me of my PopPop. Patient, full of wisdom and understanding.

“No. I can’t impose on you two anymore than I already have.”

Walt’s fingers dig deeper. With his voice close to my ear, he leans forward and chides, “Nonsense. We love meeting new people, and you’re a breath of fresh air. Isn’t he Darnell?”

“Absolutely. I can’t believe someone hasn’t snatched you up yet.”

Chuckling at the compliment, I realize it’s been a while since I dated anyone. They don’t need to know that I’ve only dated women; although, they're so kind, I don’t think they’d be put off by learning that I’m straight. They basically took me under their wing yesterday when they saw me moping at the deck railing outside the atrium after Murph stormed off.

I get serious grandpa vibes from them. Cool grandpa vibes. I mean, it’s totally kick-ass that they took this cruise as their vacation. I can’t even remember the last time my parents left the state.

In my peripheral vision, a familiar walk snags my attention. Only someone who’s a best friend knows your walk in a heartbeat. Except, it doesn’t feel like we’re friends, as I stare at Murph strolling along the opposite side of the pool, his little sparkly friend in tow.

Geez. I’ve been replaced already.

No wonder he was so mad yesterday. He could have just said that he met someone and needed some privacy. It doesn’t mean we couldn’t have met up for breakfast.

And I only wore my Dew Drop shirt because I was like one of the last people to board and wanted to get to the meet and greet mixer in time. It’s my softest T-shirt, and I wanted to be comfortable on the plane. He acts like I committed a fashion crime. How can it be a fashion crime if half the guys at the mixer yesterday were topless?

His gaze connects with mine and he stops, causing his little friend to press closer into him from behind. The guy is practically attached to him, so there leaves no room to crash.

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