Page 32 of I've Got You

Scott: Lol. Yeah, the whole “coming out” thing. *insert eye roll* It’s fine though. She’s the one person who I know loves me despite… yeah, despite it all.

I breathed heavily through my nose as I took that in and switched off the stove. It was no good, I had to call him. I hated texting at the best of times, and a conversation like this needed a little more care. There was too much that would be left unsaid.

As I drained the pasta, I hit Call. It rang three times before he answered. “Contemplate not picking up?” I asked without preamble, sure he could hear the amusement in my voice.

A chuckle reached me. “Maybe. Then I figured there was no getting out of the call, so I thought, screw it.”

I grinned widely, placing my pasta in a bowl. “Good call.So, what’s the despite bullshit?”

He was quiet a beat. “You caught that, huh?”

I spooned the sauce on my pasta, took it to the bench, and sat on one of my high stools. “Sure did.” I left it at that, leaving him room to speak.

After a small sigh, he said, “I was going to say despite me being gay, and I may have considered tagging ‘and an asshole’ on the end of that.”

I grinned widely at the latter. “I can imagine it takes someone special to forgive your asshole ways for sure.” My gut tightened at my words, knowing full well him being an asshole was no longer on my radar. I knew him well enough already to be sure he was a decent guy who was trying to make a life for himself. “I have to ask though, man, why is being gay tagged to despite?”

In truth, I knew why. That didn’t mean I liked him thinking it, and I sure as hell didn’t like him believing it.

I heard movement before he spoke. “I know it makes no sense, and I know it shouldn’t matter, and hell, I’m trying my hardest above all else to make sure it doesn’t matter to me, but there are too many people in the world who are bigoted dipshits.” He snorted. “What’s worse, I think I could vomit because of the way I treated Carter because he’s gay.”

I pressed my lips together, wanting to interrupt, but I sometimes even shocked myself and had moments when I knew to keep my trap shut. This was one of them. He needed the floor.

“At the time I was saying and doing those things, I knew. Not even deep down. The knowledge was fresh and clear, and I was freakin’ terrified that he’d know somehow that I was gay too.” His laugh was disjointed, and I wasn’t sure if it was forced or simply one of disbelief. “How stupid is that? I’m an intelligent guy. Shit, I’m a vet for Christ’s sake, but still, honest to God fear whiplashed through me as soon as I found out he was gay.” There was a pause before he said, “I was one of those bigoted shits. Who does that?”

His heavy breaths traveled through the line, his emotions riding him if the shake in his voice was anything to go by. Sure he was finished, I started in the way I always did. “You were a dickhead.” A burst of laughter from Scott made me smile. “The truth… you’re not, nor were you, bigoted. You were terrified, naïve, and yeah, a little moronic with your thinking and how you handled the situation, but it’s time to fuck that all off and move on.”

“As easy as that?” His voice dipped lower, as if he truly wanted the answer, the solution.

“Yeah, as easy as the hardest thing you’ll ever do in your life.” I grinned as I spoke. “Did you mean anything that you said to Carter or about him, or hell, any other person you’ve come across who wasn’t straight?”

Scott cleared his throat. “Well, Carter did look ridiculous that one time when I saw him doing this random booty shake with Lauren in the staffroom.” His voice sounded lighter as he continued. “But no,” he said with a sigh, “everything was for show, to create an idea, to save face, and to, I don’t know, distract him from noticing me.”

“And are you different now because you’ve admitted to yourself, to me, to Carter that you’re gay?”

“I’m a bit disappointed, actually.” I was sure he was smirking.

“Oh yeah?”

“I was expecting to all of a sudden know how to dress sharper, to wake up and have good hair, hell, to… I don’t know—”

“You have great hair,” I admitted easily, having spent too much time wondering what it would feel like under my hand when I gripped his head to kiss the crap outta him. “And you know I’m fresh out of BS stereotypes, so I’m not filling in the blanks.”

He laughed. “You like my hair?”

“Concentrate. We’re talking about you. Answer the goddamn question.” I attempted to throw some sternness into my voice, but I wasn’t sure how convincing I was.

“Fine.” He seemed to sober a little. “Other than being terrified, but in a different way, I feel lighter… happier…?”

“Did you cringe when you said that?”

With a snort-laugh, he said, “Seriously, are you watching me right now? Do you have a camera trained on my bedroom window or something?”

My eyes narrowed and my voice dropped. “You’re in bed.”

“Concentrate.” Laughter followed as he threw my words back at me. “Yes, there was cringing. I sound like a dick for saying it aloud, but there you have it. I’m shitting bricks but smiling when I’m doing it, apparently. But other than that, I’m fundamentally the same. My beliefs are the same. I suppose with the exception being I’ll never lash out at someone again in a warped attempt to save myself.”

I closed my eyes at that and breathed lighter and a little easier. He’d get there. He was so damn close. I opened my eyes and stared down at my untouched food. “So your sister, when is—” Libby’s cries filled the room through the monitor. “Shit. It’s Libby.”

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