Page 57 of Wild Obsession

“Then I heard that conversation between you and your parents,” he goes on, “and I couldn’t face it. I couldn’t face that I screwed up, that my anger was irrational all these years. When I heard you talking to them back in Baltimore, it couldn’t have been clearer what you’ve gone through. I couldn’t deny it anymore. I couldn’t pretend I was messing with you to make myself feel better. I had to face that I screwed up, and that I cared about you a lot more than I wanted to admit.”

I’m breathless at the end of this speech, my whiskeyforgotten as I gape at him. That was so much more than a simple “sorry.” I’ve never seen him so raw, so honest. He’s blunt, but he often uses that to mask the truth. He can present something harsh and true, yet hold back what he really means to say in the process.

Not now. That was him, all him. The full, raw, honest truth of Keannen.

“I didn’t know about your family,” I say softly.

He shrugs. “It’s fine. Old news.”

“It’s not fine.”

He laughs harshly. “Okay, sure, it’s not fine, but it isn’t going to change, and I got myself together a long time ago. You’re the one still living in that shit.”

“Not anymore.”

I gaze down at our clasped hands. Somehow, I’m sure that conversation with my parents in Baltimore was the end. There won’t be any miraculous reconciliation there. Any hope I was holding onto is dead.

Keannen strokes his thumb over my knuckles. “Hey. I’m sorry. I’m sorry they treat you that way. It gets better over time, especially if you have people around you to support you. That band of yours,that’syour family, not some assholes who want to pretend you’re someone you’re not.

“And I already told you: No one gets to mess with you except me.”

My heart does a weird flippy thing. Even outside in theheat of the moment it fluttered around at those words, but the effect is more intense now that there’s no risk of getting punched. I try to bite back a smile, but Keannen’s smirk strongly suggests I’ve failed.

“You like that?” he says. “God, you’re weird.”

“So? You like me anyway.”

“Yeah, it seems like I do.”

“Really?”

My question turns the banter serious. Talking about our crappy families is one thing, but talking about each other, about feelings? That’s way harder.

Keannen swallows. He goes for his whiskey and takes a big gulp. I watch his throat work, thoughts distracted as a bead of amber liquid slides down his neck.

He slams his empty glass on the bar. “Yes,” he says sternly. “I do. Is that a problem?”

“No,” I say. “No, not a problem at all, but … what does that mean?”

“What does it mean? Are you serious?”

“Yes,” I say. “I mean, this whole thing has been, well, kinda unconventional. I might not have a lot of experience, but even I can tell that most people don’t corner each other in hallways and elevators for weeks and then start dating.” Now that I’m talking, the words tumble out in a rush. “At first, I was sure you hated me. I guess I wasn’t entirely wrong about that, but then things started to change, and neither of us were willing to talk about it, even though we bothdefinitely felt it. When I did talk about it, you said that’s not what you wanted, and I figured I was just being a clingy virgin.”

Keannen scoffs. “You’re neither of those things. I made sure of the latter point myself.”

A flush lights my cheeks, but I push on anyway. “Well, yeah, but that still doesn’t explain any of this. My head is spinning, Keannen. All the back and forth — I have no idea what to make of it. Now you say you like me as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but it was never obvious to me, and I have no idea how to tell what you really want.”

Keannen looks down and curses at himself. I sit there, unsure what to do with this sudden turn. When he looks back up, there isn’t even a hint of a joke in his expression. It’s the most flat and serious I’ve ever seen him.

“I like you,” he says. “I want you. And not just…” He waves a hand as though irritated with his own inability to find the right words. “Not just in the way we’ve been doing it.”

He huffs at himself, and it makes me want to reach out and help him somehow, but this is one thing Keannen is going to have to conquer all on his own.

“I’ve been an idiot,” he says. “Okay? I’ve been a huge idiot. And I’m sorry. I was holding onto the past so hard that I lost sight of the present. You’re not that guy I made up in my head when I was hurt and angry and alone andconfused. I turned you into some kind of monster so that I could pretend you ran away and had it easy while I suffered alone. It was easier to think that than to think you were just as damaged and fucked up as me. It was easier to hate you than to miss you. Because…”

He looks down, fiddles with his empty glass on the counter. When he looks up, his eyes are a storm.

“Damn it, Tim, it’s because I loved you. You were the only guy I’ve ever loved in my entire stupid life. When you left, I tried to patch over the hurt by acting out and being stupid, but I never felt anything for those guys. And then you were justthereagain, plopped into the middle of my life, and the anger and the hurt got all mixed up and tumbled around. I thought I could take it out on you, but the more I was around you, the more I felt the way I used to. The more I … the more I couldn’t stop myself from loving you again.”

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