Page 56 of Wild Obsession

THE BARTENDER SETS DOWN two whiskeys before we reach the bar. He gives us a solemn nod, then walks away.

“How’d he know?” Keannen asks as we sit.

“I was drinking one before I got, um, interrupted. I guess he figured you’d want the same.”

“Because I’m your boyfriend?”

Keannen cocks a smirk at me, but it lacks its usual confidence. I shrug and take a sip of my drink to try not to react too much. Something happened out in that parking lot, but I’m not ready to believe it, even with a lump forming on Keannen’s jaw.

“Here,” the bartender says, setting down a towel wrapped around something. “For the jaw.”

He leaves us again, and Keannen unwraps the towel tofind a big square whiskey ice cube inside. He issues a short, harsh chuckle and then presses the wrapped ice to his face.

“Does it hurt?” I ask.

I still can’t believe he took a punch for me. Like, a real punch. From a guy who really intended to kick his ass.

Keannen shrugs. “Not bad.”

I shake my head. “I can’t believe you did that out there. I… Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

Keannen smiles, but doesn’t follow up with a quip or joke like I might expect. He turns serious again all too quickly, his dark eyes picking over me.

“We were going to talk,” he says. “I think we should do that.”

It’s painfully clear how uncomfortable this makes him, which only goes to show how important it is to him, and that’s intensely weird. After all this time, it took a literal punch to the face to make him want to sit down and talk this thing through. I’ll take it, even if it’s not how I imagined this going.

I take a deep breath. Then I explain the past eight years of my life.

“My parents confronted me that day my mom caught us,” I say. “Said some … pretty nasty stuff. Then they sent me off to a few different schools. I guess they saw you as some sort of corrupting force. They thought if we were separated, it might ‘fix’ the problem.

“I moved around a lot that next year and a half. Like, alot. I was never in one place long. Seattle was the last stop. They ran out of time, I guess. After I graduated high school here, I just sorta stayed. I guess in a way their plan worked because I never tried to reach out to you. I never tried to kiss another guy. I never did anything. I just … survived. Kept to myself. Didn’t risk messaging you and having them find out or something.”

“Is that why?” he says. He scowls at himself. “All these years, I’ve wondered why you never texted. You never called. You didn’t even send a DM. I thought…”

“I was ashamed? I suppose that makes sense. I mean, what else could you think? I disappeared. But no, Keannen, I wasn’t ashamed. Not of you. I was just…”

“Scared.”

I nod. We lock eyes, and sudden understanding passes between us. Eight years of not speaking falls away, and I realize he must have lived with that same fear this whole damn time.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I should have told you that a long time ago, but even when I realized you were in town, I figured you’d hate me. In my defense, I was kinda right.”

He chuckles wryly. “You were definitely right. I did hate you. A lot.”

That stings, but all I can do is accept it. I’m the one who left him without a word. Of course that would hurt.

“But that was unfair,” he says.

I blink in surprise. Keannen sets down the ice he’sholding against his face and takes my hand. If anyone in the bar cares, they don’t say anything. If they’re staring, I’m too absorbed in Keannen to notice. All the wood and neon signs and guys in biker jackets disappear when I gaze into his eyes while he holds my hand.

Then he says the words I never would have expected from him.

“I’m sorry too. I was angry. I was angrier than you deserved. Taking it out on you the way I did… It could have affected both our careers. It was stupid.”

“You were hurt. I never explained. I could have and I never did.”

“Yeah,” he says, “but you were also a kid whose parents hated him and shipped him away to fix him. My parents gave up on me when I was fifteen. I should have understood, but I was too busy being hurt to give a shit what you might have gone through.

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