Page 76 of Without You

“Is it Rhett? Do you guys talk about him and maybe that’s why you feel close?” It’s a fair question, but I bristle anyway. Not because there’s any truth to it, or I don’t want to answer it, but because lately it makes me feel jealous of my own brother.

And that’s not something I enjoy feeling.

I shake my head at him. “We don’t spend a lot of time talking about him in the way you think we would. It’s not just a verbal homage to my dead brother every evening.”

“I didn’t say that, I’m just trying to understand it with you.” He scratches at his temple. “So, you’re not just friends.”

“I think that’s what we’re trying to be,” I confirm. “But I don’t text you any chance I get, or wait for you to call me at one in the morning when you get home from work,” I say sheepishly.

This earns me a bark of laughter. “I guess you got it bad then,” he teases. “And like, physically, you’re attracted to him?” A flush of embarrassment settles on Wade’s cheeks, and I can’t help but cackle at his awkwardness.

“Are you asking if my dick likes dick?”

“This is so fucking weird,” he mutters. “But yes, that’s ultimately what I’m asking.”

“Well then, yes, my dickdefinitelylikeshisdick,” I say with a very practiced straight face.

Wade pinches the bridge of his nose and groans. “This is what I get for trying to have a meaningful conversation with you.” Rising up from his seat, he spins it back around and tucks it under the edge of the desk. He raises his hands above his head and stretches out his body as if he’s been sitting down for too long. When he’s done, he walks back to his desk and begins packing up. He slings his backpack over his shoulder and then walks to the exit. “I just have one question before I go home and bleach my eyes so I can unsee your dick in my mind.”

I nod with a smirk. “Sure.”

“Why are you trying to be ‘just friends’ with him if you think it could be more?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I huff. The blank look on Wade’s face says otherwise, so I spell it out for him. “He was my dead brother’s boyfriend.”

* * *

It’smidnight and I’ve just finished locking up the house and throwing my duffel bag in the back seat of my truck.

Jumping in the truck, I place my travel mug of coffee in the cup holder, stick my car charger into my phone, all prepared to make the trip back to Montana for Thanksgiving.

It’s been a little over two weeks since I was there last, and the unanticipated urge to return consumes me. There’s no denying it has nothing to do with my newfound peace treaty with my mother, and everything to do with my newfound fascination with Julian.

In the smallest amount of time I’m sharing and feeling things I’ve never felt for another person, not even Josie in the whole five years we were together. There was always something missing between us, and now I’m forever racking my brain trying to work out what it was.

Is it because she’s a woman? Or is it because she isn’t Julian?

I try not to play the comparison game too much, or spend too much time trying to theorize why he and I connect, because it really just leaves me with more questions than I started with.

We’ve kept in contact every day, our conversations deep, our text messages funny. I can’t remember the last time anybody was ever this interested in things I have to say.

He listens. With an open heart and an open mind, it’s impossible not to bask in that type of attention. And none of that even comes close to what it’s like hearing him talk. Hearing his thoughts, his ideas, what’s important inhisworld.

It also means I’ve been privy to how much of himself he’s holding back. This I know is synonymous with Rhett, something I know he has to work out in his own time and by himself, but it’s painful to witness. Julian Reid has a lot to offer this world, I just don’t think he’s figured it out yet.

For two weeks we’ve been straddling the line between friendship and intimacy, and it honestly feels like purgatory. While I’m infatuated by the ease in which our relationship is developing, there’s also a profound ache in my chest from how much I actually miss being around him. Wanting to be around anyone is new to me; craving that invasion of space and time.

I would love to see his facial expressions when he’s talking, see the light in his eyes when he’s excited, the smile on his face when he’s happy.

The weekend we spent together feels like a cluster of stolen moments that I have thought about more times than I can count. It felt good, and exciting, and not at all foreign in the way it should have, and I want to try to have more than that. I want the freedom to test the waters, to explore the depths of our physical connection.

But what I want above all of that is to know with certainty that he wants all that stuff as much as I do. I’m worried that when we come face to face Julian will realize it was the distance that made him feel so relaxed.

With me in another state he doesn’t have to worry about me being in his space or the guilt he said he feels at the temptation of wanting someone else. It’s a safe distance to attach yourself to someone without the commitment.Could he really want that?

I’m about two and a half hours into my drive when my phone rings. I check the digital clock on the dashboard and notice Julian’s calling a little later than usual. I told him I’d be up and driving tonight, and he said he would call me after work and keep me company.

“Hello,” I answer, barely able to contain my smile.

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