Page 39 of Grave Misgivings
I queue up my phone to doomscroll, but I end up right back in my call log.
No missed calls.
He didn’t call like he said he would.
I huff out a frustrated sigh, because I should have knownnotto get my hopes up.
I’d deluded myself into thinking nothing had changed between us, because justhearinghim made me feel like everything was okay again. But it’s not.
Thingsaredifferent.
We’re different.
I’m different.
I’m not the same person I was ten years ago.
I hit the number without thinking, fueled by nothing other than sour apple martinis and emotions I can’t process.
“Zeb?” Geo’s voice is thick with sleep, and that only pisses me off more.
“You didn’t call,” I snap.
I hear some moving around and Geo grunts, the sound deep, dark, and delicious.
Fucking asshole.
“You stood me up,” I say, grinding my teeth.
“I just... had a lot of stuff going on,” he replies, his voice smooth and tired.
I hate how his voice makes that knot in my stomach lesson.
“I’m sorry, Z,” he says softly. “Are you okay? You sound?—”
“Ssss... tits the fucking martinis.”
Geo clears his throat. “Martinis? Like, plural?”
“Blame your fucking sister and her three drink minimum. It was her idea,” I grunt.
“Oh. So you and my sister make a point of regularly getting shitfaced together, is that it?” he teases.
“Only when the men in our life fuck us over.”
I realize the moment I say the words, I fucked up.
Because Geo doesn’t know I’m gay, and I’m pretty sure his sister hasn’t told him, because when I asked her years ago, after I came out, if she did, she told me “it’s not my place to tell him, Z.”
There is a heavy silence before he speaks.
“What kind of martinis?” he asks, glazing over my words.
I let out a deep breath. “Sour apple with the little fucking cherries.”
Geo chuckles, and the sound is dark, smooth like silk.
“I love cherries,” he says, his voice light. “They’re my favorite fruit.”
