The Better Side of Me - Jerry Cole Page 0,79

lucky just to be with—”

“That’s not true!”

“Don’t—”

“Yes, I will!” Lance reached for Kirk’s hand, but Kirk pulled it away. “I don’t think I’m better than you – I never did. What I did do was selfish, and idiotic and... and— and there is no excuse. But—”

“Stop.”

“But I still love you. When I told you that, I wasn’t lying, or trying to get something out of you or... or... I don’t know what. When I told you I loved you, I meant it. And nothing has changed. Nothing.” Again, he went to take Kirk’s hands, and again Kirk pulled back.

“Everything has changed.” Kirk was back to looking at the floor. “I don’t doubt you love me but...” Kirk took a deep breath. Lance could see his whole body shaking. “But I don’t think I love you. Not anymore. Not after what you did.”

In that moment, Lance would have preferred to have been literally anywhere than in that small room with Kirk. Heck, he would have preferred to have been with Alexander Ivanov, having his ass kicked by a bunch of juiced-up henchman. He would have preferred to have been lecturing complex mathematical equations that he knew nothing about in front of a room full of hundreds. Anywhere but right there!

It was a knife, driving itself into his heart. It was a boot, kicking itself into his gut. It was the single worst moment of Lance’s life, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He could barely stand, let alone speak, let alone argue, let alone try and change Kirk’s mind, convince him that he’s wrong! He opened his mouth to try, but no words came out. He looked down to Kirk’s hands, as if to try and take them, but couldn’t bring himself to move. There was nothing he could do, so that was what he did.

Lance remained still and silent, unmoving, as Kirk stepped around him, popped open the door and slipped out. And there Lance stayed for some time. It might have been minutes. It might have been hours. He didn’t know, nor did he care. He had thought that last night was the worst moment of his life. Oh, how wrong he was.

Lance’s life now, was officially over. He’d never felt such hurt before.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“I still think it’s a good thing.” Otis pranced through the kitchen as he whipped up a couple of drinks; vodka with whatever mixer Kirk had to spare.

“Oh, will you shut it you silly queen,” Jessie snapped. She sat on the couch with Kirk, arms wrapped around him like a protective mother.

“Really, there’s no need for name calling... whore,” Otis quipped back.

“Whore?” Jessie exclaimed. “Who are you calling a whore?”

“Oh, please. Don’t act like you’re some sort of saint, and I’m the only sinner in the room – what mixer do you want, dear? Apple juice or soda water?”

“Soda water,” Jessie answered quickly. “And that has nothing to do with it. The man is hurting, and whatever point you’re trying to make is only making things worse.”

“Are you for real?” Otis finished making the three drinks and then carefully carried them back into the living room. Then, he placed one in front of Kirk, handed one to Jessie and guzzled his own as he collapsed onto the couch beside Jessie. “The point I was making – before you so rudely interrupted me with slander, by the way. The point I was making was this...” Otis went to speak, but then frowned to himself.

“Forgotten, have we?” Jessie giggled. “Must have been some point—”

“Right!” Otis pointed his finger in the air. “The point I was making is this. Lance was a hunk, there could be no doubt about that. Rarely a hotter man has ever existed.”

“I suggest you hurry it up,” Jessie cut in. She was still holding Kirk, who seemed to shrink even further into her arms when Otis began describing how physically dreamy Lance was.

“Right, right, yes.” Otis threw back the rest of his drink. “Lance is hot, yes. But the two of you... I just didn’t see it. He’s a meathead. They have a type – and that type is rarely professors of history. Ones that didn’t like the film Troy just because of how inaccurate it was. Even though Brad Pitt’s abs alone were enough to warrant buying a ticket.”

“I can’t argue on the abs,” Jessie agreed. “But that’s about it. Who are you to say who is right for Kirk or not?”

“I’m me, sweetness. An observer of the human condition.”

“Please,”