Page 27 of Home in Nevada

I laugh, running a hand through my hair. “Nice…” I glance at the watch I bought her, pulling it out of my bag. It’s perfect. She’s going to love it. I made sure to pick the one she couldn’t stop staring at last time we went shopping.

I grin, imagining her reaction. This is going to be the surprise she doesn’t see coming. Lucy’s wrong about this, about us. This will prove it.

Even if Tiffany gets upset about Jamie being back in my life, even though he’s moved on and has a boyfriend, we’ll figure it out. We always do. Tiffany isn’t like anyone I’ve been with before. She was there for me at my lowest, after my last breakup, when I felt like I had nothing left to give. She helped build me back up, encouraged me, and stood by my side. We’re a team, something I’ve never had with any girl I dated before her, and that has to count for something.

I need to share this with her, the way we’ve shared everything else. It’s the only way forward: trust, openness, honesty. Even if it means admitting I’m struggling with my sexuality. Even if it means telling her about Jamie—what he means to me, and that I made a mistake letting myself kiss him again.

Tiffany will understand. She has to. She’ll see that, even with all the mess in my head, she’s the one I can do this with. She’s the one I want to do this with.

“I’m coming up to surprise you,” I say confidently, pulling into the parking lot and finding a visitor spot near her building.

“Wait… what?” Tiffany’s voice sounds startled, caught off guard.

“I’m parked downstairs. I’m coming up to see you,” I repeat, grabbing the watch from my bag as I step out of the car and lock the door behind me.

“Jeff, stop. Don’t come up.”

I frown, my pace slowing as I cross the lot toward the building’s entrance. “What? Why?” I laugh nervously, brushing off the unease creeping into my chest.

“It’s super late, Jeff! Now’s not a good time!” Her voice sharpens, the urgency impossible to miss.

Something about the way she says it makes my stomach twist, but I push the thought aside. I scan in with the code she gave me months ago, her words still buzzing in my ears as I hurry up the stairs to her floor.

“Jeff, stop! Seriously!”

Her tone stops me cold at the top of the staircase. I slow my steps, the confidence from moments ago slipping away. My heart starts to race as unease sets in, but I keep moving, making my way down the hallway to her door.

“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice cracking slightly as I come to a stop in front of her door.

“Nothing!” she insists, but I hear it—shuffling, a loud thud, and muffled voices coming from inside her room.

What the hell is happening in there?

“Jeff, stay there for a second. I’ll come down to you.”

I wait, my heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst. My grip tightens on the watch in my hand as I glance down the hallway, my mind racing through every possible explanation.

When the door finally creaks open, she’s standing there in her pajamas, her hair a mess, her face pale and panicked.

My stomach drops.

And then I see him. A man. Naked, sprawled out in her bed like he belongs there.

The watch slips from my fingers as my brain struggles to catch up with what I’m seeing.

“What the fuck?” My voice rises, shaky with fury. “What the fuck is this, Tiffany?!”

She presses her palm against my chest, her eyes wide and desperate. “Jeff, wait—just let me explain…”

Her grip on me is frantic, her fingers clawing at my shirt, but it barely registers. The anger surging through me is a storm, consuming every thought, every shred of self-control. My vision blurs with red as I shove past her, my body moving on pure instinct, a force I can’t stop.

The man is sprawled out on the bed, completely exposed, his wide-eyed panic only fueling the fire raging inside me.

“Get the fuck up!” I snarl, my voice unrecognizable even to myself.

Without hesitation, I hurl the watch box to the floor. The dull thud as it hits the carpet is drowned out by the sound of my fists slamming into his body.

He scrambles, his hands flying up to block the blows, but I don’t stop. Each punch lands harder than the last, every ounce of betrayal, humiliation, and fury behind it. The sharp pain of his fist connecting with my face barely slows me down. My nose explodes with pain, warm blood dripping down my lips, but it doesn’t matter.

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