Page 36 of Diablo

“Look,” Tarzan added. “You’ve been around our club for several years by now. You know firsthand that men can be dumbasses in the worst possible way.”

I managed a wet little laugh, finally feeling steady enough to rise to my feet.

“That’s an understatement.”

“We make mistakes. We don’t always know how to express ourselves beyond caveman grunts. And some of us…some of us are no better than the dog shit on the bottom of your shoe.”

My smile faltered and I scuffed my boot in the dirt, Diablo’s face rising into the forefront of my memory.

“But there are men in this world who are trying to be better,” Tarzan continued. “They’re not perfect. Far from it. They know when they have something good, though. And they honestly try their hardest to not fuck it up.”

“What category are you putting Diablo in?” I asked softly.

“Definitely dumbass.”

I ducked my head with a small smile. Tarzan’s quiet breath of a laugh echoed on the other end of the line. Warmth bloomed in my chest at the sound of it. God, I’d missed his rock-steady companionship by my side. Something about Tarzan and the confidence he had in my abilities made me feel like I could conquer the world.

Silence settled between us, comfortable and easy.

“I didn’t expect this from you,” I said. “I thought you would be ready to beat the shit out of Diablo.”

“I mean,” Tarzan replied lightly. “If that option is still on the table, I’ll take it any time of day or night.”

“Cool your jets, mister.”

“He made you cry.”

“I’m not crying,” I protested sullenly.

“Right,” Tarzan said, skeptical. “You’re just leaking for no reason. The Stevie I know would never cry over a dude.”

I glanced down at my boots, brushing dust off my jeans.

“Yeah, well, I think this dude might be…special.”

Tarzan didn’t respond for several seconds. I couldn’t imagine how much it must hurt him to watch me fall in love with someone else when he had been pining over me for years.

“So are you, Stevie,” he said at last. “And Diablo knows that. You’re one in a million.”

He sighed and I could hear him shuffling around, followed by the metallic pop of a bottle top from a beer.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Tarzan muttered. “But you should find him and make him talk.”

“I’ve already tried that. He just clams up.”

“I’ll slap him around for you.”

“That won’t help,” I said, my voice strangled as I tried not to laugh.

“It would make me feel better,” Tarzan countered.

“I’m hanging up now—”

“Okay, fine. Just…call me if you need anything, all right?”

I smiled, my heart overflowing with gratitude. I didn’t deserve a friend like Tarzan.

“I will. And thank you.”

---