The Better Side of Me - Jerry Cole Page 0,45

depression. Vodka lime sodas were his drink of choice, for the lack of calories if not the flavor.

“Thirteen time’s the charm – don't bowl there!” Carlo screamed at the television. “He’s been driving the ball all day! God dammit!” he slammed his beer down, broke the glass and then burst into laughter. “Yo!” he shouted to the bartender. “Another. Yeah?”

Lance rolled his eyes and went back to staring at his half-drunk beer. He wasn’t going to finish it... or maybe he would? He didn’t know. Maybe he should order some shots? Just line them up, throw them back and make a night of it. He may as well. Not like it could make him feel worse.

“Hey!” Carlo threw his arm back around Lance and leaned in close. “I’ve been meaning to ask. Where is that little guy you’re sleeping with – what's his face? Clark?”

“Kirk,” Lance muttered.

“Yeah! That’s the one. Where is he? I thought you’d be balls deep in his little booty right about now. That’s what you call it, yeah? Balls deep? Sorry, I’m not too familiar with gay lingo.” Carlo slurred the whole thing into Lance’s ear, barely making any sense.

“Close enough,” Lance half-smiled. He really didn’t want to talk about Kirk right now. Not one little bit. His coming to the bar in the first place was done solely so he could stop thinking about Kirk!

Lance had fucked up. He’d gotten too deep in his own head, and as a result he’d completely ruined his relationship with Kirk. Even calling it a relationship was a stretch, as Lance had refused to entertain the term and what it might have meant for the two. Instead, he’d kept the man at an arm’s length and the moment that things had even hinted at being serious, he’d freaked out.

Worse was that Lance knew himself only too well. He knew that he was too stubborn, too pig headed and most importantly, too much of a coward to do anything about it. Lance was supposed to be the confident, cool, batting-at-his-average one. He was meant to be the one that took charge of his life and always came out on top. But he also knew that if Kirk didn’t call him and demand that they sit down and talk through what was going on, then the relationship would be over. The ball was in Kirk’s court.

“Fuck it,” Lance suddenly said. “Let’s do some shots.”

“No!” Carlo banged his fists down on the bar in excitement. “Let’s fucking murder a shit ton of shots! Bartender! Bar – where are you?!” Carlo was on his feet, looking down the bar and waving dramatically for the bartender.

Lance watched the scene with grim despair. He would do these shots. He would hang out for a little while longer and then he’d go home, fall asleep and try and forget that Kirk ever existed. For all Lance’s positive values, he was as closed off emotionally as an oil drum.

The shots came – tequila – and Lance and Carlo threw them back one after the other. There was no lime or salt. Just determination. With each one too, Carlo would howl into the air and punch his fists at nothing in particular. It was like being in college again, which wasn’t a good thing.

“Oh, I just remembered!” Carlo fell back on his stool and slapped Lance on the back. “I saw your boy-toy earlier today, at the gym.”

“Oh, yeah?” Lance asked, trying not to sound too interested. In truth, his stomach was starting to gurgle and his head was beginning to spin.

“Yeah. I’m surprised you’re so cool with it, honestly. If it were me, I’d be all ‘hell no you don’t. Now get back in my bed.’ You know?”

Lance didn’t know. “What are you talking about?”

“Him, Clint or Kurt or whatever. Seeing other people.” Carlo indicated to the bar tender for another beer. “Like I said, if it were me, I wouldn’t even—”

“Another person – what are you... Kirk is seeing someone else?” Lance’s head was clear. His stomach had stopped churning. He turned to face Carlo, resisting the urge to grab him by the scruff of the neck.

“Kirk,” Carlo nodded. “I saw him in the locker room today. Tried to say hi, but he was on the phone talking to some dude by the sounds. I didn’t hear the whole thing though... but I think he said he was having dinner with him tonight. At the Ivy – that was what had me thinking. I’ve been to