Page 31 of Love Bitters

“Positive?” he asks. “I don’t want to get you in any more trouble with the boss.”

Sighing, I glance to the floor then have to push my glasses up again when I look back at him. “I’m not in trouble. He just doesn’t like my lifestyle choices.”

Chris’s voice drops into an angry whisper as he says, “Which is bullshit.”

The expression Wes wears is similar to Chris’s anger. “You know there are laws and shit against discrimination now. He can’t get away with it if you say something.”

I’m already shaking my head before he finishes. “I don’t want to stir up trouble and lose my job. Besides, promotions mean more money but they also mean more responsibilities too. I’m quite content to have my own little thing right here in the corner.”

It’s not really a lie, but not exactly the truth either. As with earlier, though, partial slices are better than the full pie when it comes to honesty.

Pretty sure Wes reads right through the entire thing but lets it go without another word. Standing and reaching out a hand to Chris, he says, “Nice to meet ya, man. Let’s all go out for a drink sometime. My treat.”

Saying bye to Chris, Wes walks at my side to the elevator. I ignore all the stares people shoot us, but I glimpse Wes in my peripheral glaring back. Out of my housemates, I’m glad it was him that showed up today. Ollie would be leaving with a broken heart from the hate. Murph would’ve been embarrassed by all the attention, and Thatch would’ve landed his ass in jail for punching one of the offensive people in the face. The five of us have always had a great thing going together. Imma was the center of our circle that we didn’t even realize was missing. Wish we were good enough to keep her.

Now on the elevator, Wes breaks the silence. “Penny for your thoughts.”

Only Wes would be able to get the full breakdown of truth from me. I don’t think the others can handle it with no filter, especially these days.

“Probably the same thing that’s on your mind today,” I finally reply.

His blue eyes are thoughtful as one side of his lips ticks upward. “I’d bet you’re right.”

We stop two floors down to let more people on, bringing our conversation to a standstill for the moment. One of the branch VPs steps in and gives me and Wes a once-over. I can understand what the ladies see in him. Even on his day off, the man is in designer jeans and a soft leather jacket. He’s got that boy next door look perfected. Me, however, I don’t get. Plain khakis and a plaid button-down doesn’t scream sexy any day of the week. Not to mention, with the way David and some of the others on my floor treat me like a pariah, one would think I had a stamp on my forehead announcing that I’m gay. Now twice in one day, I’ve had a woman looking at me in the way I see them look at the others all the time. Or maybe just having then losing Imma in my life changed the perspective…in more than one way.

Wes doesn’t speak again until we’re alone, walking down the sidewalk toward the little row of restaurants across the street from my building. Even then, it’s only a one word question to confirm where we’re eating for lunch.

“Sushi?”

I nod my approval as he reaches out to swing the door open for us, the smell making me happier than I’ve felt in a while. Out of all the different varieties of foods I’ve tried, sushi is by far my favorite. Ollie despises it, of course. The only other person in the house who’ll eat it with me is Wes. We managed to drag Imma with us once, and she just proved yet another reason why my heart chose right when she said she loved it.

My stomach churns at the thought, and the happiness fades. Makes me want to grab Wes around the arm and steer him right back out of here. Which, of course, I don’t because then I’d have to explain myself. Though I’m beginning to think that might be why he’s here at all today.

We order our food and make our drinks before finding a table in the back corner. No time is wasted as he starts speaking no sooner than our butts hit the chairs.

“Thanks for having lunch with me,” he states with a genuine smile. Only someone like me who has known him for years would know that as much as it is real, the smile is also sad. It doesn’t reach his eyes like normal.

“It’s all good,” I tell him. “Seems kind of curious that you haven’t stopped by like this in months. What’s going on in that brain of yours?”

“No sense in beating around the bush, yeah?” he asks, wadding his straw wrapper up and using it as a tabletop soccer ball, obviously to avoid having to make eyecontact. It isn’t until his next words that he finally looks up.

“It’s about Im.”

I take a deep breath that goes all the way down to my gut before I give him the opening he’s looking for.

“What about her?”

“I miss her, Ev,” he announces loudly. “Everyone does. Even you. I can tell. The house is imploding, and I don’t know how to stop it. Thatch is never home, and when he is, he’s normally biting someone’s head off. I don’t think I’ve heard Murphy being this quiet in fucking years. If he didn’t speak occasionally I’d swear he’s gone mute. And I don’t even have to say anything about Ollie. I know you feel his pain. This is so much worse than before.”

“It’s worse because we were all invested,” I tell him. “No matter if she was only in our lives for a month or so. We had that hope and let her ingrain herself into our lives, filling gaps that we didn’t even realize were there.”

“I love her, Ev,” he says. “I know she left, but I want to find her, drag her kicking and screaming back to us if I have to, and tell her how much she means to us.”

“That’s not our call,” I remind him. “We don’t know why she even left. She could’ve met someone else.”

His face falls, and I feel like an ass when he whispers, “Don’t say that.”

With the waiter dropping our plates off at the table, I wait until he leaves to respond. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but it’s true. Or, you know, her friends shared their thoughts pretty plain and clear when we were at the cabin. Maybe one of them got to her. Her parents are more than likely super conservative, and they could’ve been a deciding factor. There are a dozen and a half reasons why she could’ve left us. At this point, we’ll never know.”

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