Touch And Go - Aiden Bates Page 0,80
might be a top-level kind of thing. They want to meet me in person to give me the details. It’s cool. I’m fine.” Fine enough as far as he was concerned. He didn’t have to know I cried myself to sleep on the nights I wasn’t too drunk to know to cry it out. I couldn’t even look at another man. And I would probably succumb to injury before I ever walked or was rolled into another ER. No one needed to know those things. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“No one’s worried.” He caught my raised eyebrow. “Okay, we’re all a little worried.”
“All?” It was wrong to hope. A blight against my heart. But I wanted to know if all meant all.
“Yeah. All.” He smiled, and I held back my sigh of relief. It wasn’t wrong to be grateful Derek thought about me. It was smug. Arrogant. Wonderful. Amazing. And it made my heart lighter.
I turned so he couldn’t see my tears and put a teabag in my new mug, the only one to survive the ransacking due to its previous ranking as my most hated mug, hidden at the back of the cupboard. It was bright pink with an ugly pug on one side and a handle shaped like a bone. It took all of my attention for one, blissful moment, until I remembered that Eli was staring at me with something as awful as sympathy.
“Is he…okay?” I cleared my throat. “You guys never talk about Derek when you visit.”
“You want us to?” Eli picked at a piece of the cheap plastic that was coming away at the edges of the counter.
“I don’t know.” I stared into the mug long after I’d finished pouring in the water. “No, I guess I don’t.”
Eli squeezed my shoulder and slapped my back as he squeezed out of the kitchen, and mumbled something about having to get going, he’ll be back soon, don’t get into any trouble. I stayed in the kitchen and listened to Uno’s claws clicking on the floorboards, Eli flicking the lock and closing the door, and then silence… So much silence.
The rest of the day dragged, like every other day since I’d ripped myself away from Derek and his home. I’d thought that returning to my apartment would make it easier to deal with everything that happened, to survive the trauma, come to terms with all the feelings. But the apartment was nearly empty, and I felt like I was in some kind of stasis chamber where nothing ever changed. An empty cell full of ghosts. Sometimes I saw Ben out of the corner of my eye, coming at me, and I had to sit on the floor in the area where my desk used to be and count out my breaths for what felt like hours. Maybe it was hours.
At least I had some lasagna. I even ate most of it. I put it down to Eli’s cooking for being so good, because I sure as hell wasn't feeling any better than I had the last two weeks.
The next day, my hangover clung to the edges of my brain, was still pinching my nerves as I got ready for my shift at Zucino’s, and the job interview scheduled for afterwards. I was scheduled to man the bar at the restaurant for just a few hours in the afternoon, but I was a little terrified of fucking it up.
But getting dressed was easier than it had been in weeks, since the all-black bar standard of skinny jeans and a V-neck t-shirt suited my mood, and I was almost confident when I hurried downstairs. I shoved my keys in my pocket, bounced off the bottom step, and froze when I saw a huge, looming shadow taking up most of the foyer. My pulse jolted, my mouth dried out, and I stumbled backwards on the steps, ready to run.
“Hey, it’s me.”
I blinked and my vision cleared enough to make out dark black hair as I landed on my ass on the stairs. “Matt?”
“Easy mistake.” He knelt in front of me at the base of the stairs and smiled.
“Shit. Sean, sorry.” I scrubbed my face with my hands and let out a frustrated breath. “I’m all kinds of fucked up.”
“It’s cool. I’m used to people being disappointed when they realize I’m not Matt…” He offered me a hand up. I took it shakily, but felt stronger on my feet with him by my side.
“Nah, I just thought…” I shook my