Page 222 of Worthy

I smile, stopping at a picture of them holding a bundled-up baby. Ledger is looking at the camera with a wide smile split across his face while Sterling is looking down at the baby with so much wonder on his face. The caption reads “Meet Layla Grace Jacobson, our daughter.”

My heart pounds as I take in the picture. They look happy,so happy, you can practically see the love radiating off the photo. Closing out of Instagram, I set my phone down and stare up at the ceiling. I want that, everything that Sterling has, but I’m never going to get there if I don’t figure my shit out.

I think about Pete and our college one-off. He was confused and he kissed me and realized he was gay. He had his big eureka moment where everything just connected, so why the fuck haven’t I had mine? I can feel the frustration rising as my mind floods with a thousand thoughts. This is all Pete’s fault. If he hadn’t kissed me then I wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with.

Or would I? I think about Lance and how attracted I am to him. Can’t blame Pete for that though, can I?Maybe I’m just a little bisexual.Ugh… Is that even a thing? Can someone just be a little bisexual?

I need a fucking mentor. A life coach—a gay coach. Someone to help me navigate through this confusion. I grab my phone again, pulling up Google, and almost cringe as I type the words: Am I bisexual? before hitting send. The search engine only takes a second and I’m hit with thirteen million results. “This isn’t overwhelming at all,” I mutter to myself before clicking on the first one. It’s a quiz, and despite knowing this is stupid, I take it anyway.

Forty minutes later, I’m elbows deep in Gay Porn Hub and not even sure how I got here.

Oh, wait, yes I am. The quiz. After a ‘Youmightbe bisexual’ result, I went back to the browser and ended up on Reddit reading through bisexual experiences and ‘coming out’ stories for the once-thought-straight men. One guy named Chris claims his experience started when his girlfriend got creative with a finger during sex. Another named John said his lifelong friend started dating another guy and he went into a fit of jealousy and realized he was in love with his best friend. Then there’s Trevor, who said when watching porn he found he started to pay attention to the guys in the scene more than the girls. So he dabbled in gay porn and then sought out Grindr for a hook-up.

Thank you, Trevor, for that. Now I’m somehow on bondage porn with my phone tilted sideways as I watch in wonder as a buff guy drives his cock into some poor guy’s throat as he hangs halfway off a bench while tied up. “There’s no way that’s comfortable.” I can hear the confusion in my own voice and I click on the next video. The daddy/boy caption is enough to make me hit skip again. This one is a couple of guys eating dinner before it turns into cake being eaten off their bodies and a lot of moaning and dirty talk.

Okay, this is pointless. I exit the browser, tossing my phone on the desk and glancing down at my less-than-eager cock. My dick didn’t find any of that interesting either. I need a drink, dinner, and some fucking therapy. Standing from my desk, I decide that a drink is a definite need when the sound of something crashing outside my office door catches me off guard. Everyone already left hours ago. Cautiously, I head in that direction and stop dead when I see Lance on his hands and knees while frantically scooping up handfuls of dirt from the potted plant he must have knocked over. He’s going so fast that he’s missing the pot and causing the dirt to plop back onto the floor.

Squatting down, I grab his hands to stop his movements. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just a plant. We’ll get it cleaned up. Go wash your hands and I’ll grab a broom. ” He nods but doesn’t meet my gaze, just pulls his hands from mine, stands, and quickly walks down the hall to the employee restroom.

I grab the broom from the janitorial closet and quickly clean up the mess. “I could have done that,” Lance says as he saddles up behind me once I’m done.

“It’s fine. Was really easy to do.” I turn to look at him and notice Lance is no longer wearing my clothes from earlier but a pair of dark blue jeans that fit his body nicely paired with a white and navy, linen button-down. He looks good. My eyes roam over him for a beat too long and I blush when I meet his gaze and find him staring back at me. Fuck, caught red-handed. I look away, trying to compose myself. “What are you doing here? You left a while ago.”

“I left my phone. I just got done having a few drinks with a friend. Figured I’d grab it before heading home.” His voice is soft, but I swivel my whole body around to look at him again.

A friend? What kind of friend? Was it a date? Is he seeing someone? “Which friend?” I blurt out before I’m able to stop myself.

His eyes are wide behind his glasses and his mouth opens and closes before he says, “Jess.” My whole body relaxes then. I know Jess. I’ve met him a few times since Lance has been working for me. They’re just friends, that I know for sure.

“Right.” I reach up, dragging my hand through my hair. “It’s getting late. We should go.” I make quick work of grabbing my stuff, turning off my office light, and meeting Lance back in the hall. He hasn’t moved and he’s still barely looking at me as he waits. “You okay?”

“Fine. Everything’s fine,” he says a bit too quickly as his cheeks burn bright. “Let’s go.” Then he proceeds to walk down the hall.

Okay then. I catch up to him, his body rigid and he’s chewing on his bottom lip, eyes glued to the exit at the end of the hall as we continue to walk. He said he was fine, but I don’t believe that for a second. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem… off.”

“Oh, no. I’m fine, super fine.” His hands are waving around and he’s shaking his head rapidly. “The finest. See? All the fines.” His voice rises with every word he spews then he chuckles a bit manically. “I didn’t see you watching anything.”

I freeze mid-step, my brows flying to my hairline, and Lance stops like a deer caught in headlights. Fuck! I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before. He probably saw me, was trying to leave so I didn’t know, and knocked over the pot in the process. Shit. This is a PR nightmare waiting to happen. Why the hell was I watching porn at my desk anyway? Fucking Trevor and his stupid internet suggestion.

“I can explain.” I don’t actually know if I can, or at least, in a way that makes sense. “I wasn’t jerking off.” His cheeks flame brighter and I realize I’m making the situation worse. “I mean, yeah I was watching gay porn, but I just…” His eyes widen more, if that’s even possible, and I realize I’ve just told on myself for watching gay porn. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “Okay, this isn’t going well.” I reach up, rubbing my forehead as a headache starts.

“You’re gay? Wait no, don’t answer that. You don’t have to. I’m sorry. It’s not my business.”

I drop my hand and look around, trying to come up with what to say. “Not gay. At least, I don’t think so.” I sound so stupid.

“Oh.” He bites his lip, eyes looking everywhere but at me.

“Yeah.” We’re silent. The space is too silent and I wonder if he’s trying to come up with ways to quit. Ugh, I hope not. He’s the best assistant I’ve ever had.

He clears his throat and I wait with bated breath to see what he’s going to say next. “So, if you’re not gay…” I almost sag with relief, at least he’s not quitting yet. I can hear the rest of his question though, even if he didn’t say it. ‘If you’re not gay then why are you watching gay porn?’

“It’s a long story.” A stupid, long, complicated story that I don’t even understand.

He just nods, shifting anxiously from one foot to the other. “I’ll bet.”

His tone is neutral but I still feel the need to defend myself. “I’m serious.”

“No, I get it, and it’s fine.”

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