Page 92 of The Quarterback
“That’s what Nick said. And that’s why I’m so fucking stupid. I didn’t see how he really felt about me.”
Justin sat back on his heels. His eyes flicked to Wes, and silence filled the bathroom. Colton sagged against the wall again, the water sloshing around him and Wes as ice cubes melted against their skin.
“None of this sounds like my dad,” Justin finally said. “It doesn’t make any sense. He’s never been with a guy. And he’s not… He’s never been…” He scowled. “He doesn’t think with his dick like that.”
Colton shrugged. “It’s my fault. I never told him how I felt, but it should have been obvious to me how it was going to go. And I was the one who started it. I mean, I chased him. I kissed him, and he was so freaked out…” He thunked his temple against the tile. “But then he kissed me back, and…”
“Why didn’t you tell him?” Wes asked
“I was too scared. I wanted everything, but I didn’t know how to get there. I just hoped things would never end if I didn’t want them to.” He shrugged.
His eyes drifted to Justin. “I was scared of you, too. You were always there. Always with us. It’s one of the things I love about him, how awesome of a father he is—”
Justin’s gaze fell to the floor.
“But I could never compete with that. I thought maybe,maybehe could love me second to how much he loves you, but…”
“Have you guys talked since that morning?” Justin didn’t look up as he spoke.
“No.” His voice shook, and his vision swam. “We were going to go to the park, and then—” His cheeks flushed. He picked at the grout where the tub met the tile. Tried to hold back the flood of words, but it was unstoppable. “We were together every day. I woke up in his arms each morning. We’d walk to the office, and then we used to text each other while we were there. We used to eat lunch and get coffee together, steal moments to be around each other. We spent the evenings in the park and then we went home and ate dinner and watched Netflix or played PlayStation. We were always together, and now—” He dragged in a breath, holding it as his eyes flooded again. “He’sgone. He’s gone, and it happened so fast, and—” This time his cries were soft and small, tremors that left him shivering as he traced broken tiles with his shriveled fingertips.
Wes took his hand, holding it in the space between them. Justin cupped water in his palm and let it fall over Colton’s shoulder. The remains of an ice cube raced down his scar, over the skin where Nick had left the ghost of his touch and his kisses.
He groaned. “Nick used to massage my shoulder when it was sore.” Memories slammed into him, again. He’d never be free of the moments they’d shared. “He’d rub it at the park after we tossed the ball. When we watched Netflix, too. Or tried to watch Netflix. He’s so impatient with the TV.”
A fractional smile curved one corner of Justin’s mouth. “He always has been.”
“He taught me about wine, about whites and reds and what went with what. We tried so many different kinds when we went to that winery. He bought two cases of the wine I liked best.”
Justin dragged in a sigh.
“I’m sorry,” Colton sobbed. “I’m sorry, Justin. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“Don’t apologize for falling in love,” Justin said after a long moment. “Love happens, whether you want it to or not.”
Colton’s lips trembled, and he shook his head. “I wish I didn’t love him. I wish I could close my eyes and forget about him, like he’s forgotten about me.”
Silence filled the bathroom again as they sat with the echo of Colton’s words. Wes squeezed his hand as Justin dribbled more water down both of their backs, trying to cool their overheated muscles. Colton’s tears slowly tapered off and then dried on his cheeks as his anguish turned to an aching, hollow numbness.
After ten minutes, Justin told them it was time to get out. He grabbed towels Colton had left hanging on the shower rod months ago and held them out, averting his eyes when Colton rose and dried himself off.
Colton and Wes limped into Colton’s bedroom. Their housemates were finally getting home, and he heard groans and curses and heavy footfalls on the stairs. Justin closed the bedroom door before anyone wandered in and saw Colton was there. Colton and Wes curled up on the mattress, facing each other like they were four-year-old brothers sharing a bed.
Justin sat at the foot, stroking Wes’s calf. “Where have you been sleeping?”
“Motel. I thought you wouldn’t want to see me.” Colton buried his face in his pillow. Was it his imagination, or could he smell the faintest hint of Nick buried in the cotton pillowcase? How long had it been since Nick had been in this bedroom? Had he permeated the air, like he’d permeated Colton’s life? “And it’s hard to be back here.”
“’Cause of the team?” Wes asked. He brushed a wet strand of hair behind Colton’s ear.
“That. But also… Nick and I hung out here. We started really getting close right here, you know? He spent so much time with me right after I was hurt.”
Justin’s nostrils flared. He glared at Colton’s window, at the bending branches of an oak tree swaying in front of the glass.
“I’m sorry. I’ll stop talking about him. I’m trying to stop thinking about him. It’s so hard.”
“It’s not your fault.” Justin squeezed Wes’s calf, then grabbed Colton’s bedspread and pulled it over both of them like he was tucking them in. “You guys get some rest, okay?”
“Where are you going?” Wes asked. His eyelids were already drooping.
