bailed on me because he didn’t feel the same.” Agony lanced through him, but he pushed on. “And when he woke up from his accident and I realized he had no memory of that night, that he looked at me like he normally did, as a friend…” He trailed off, shaking the memory from his head even though it still made his heart throb.
“Ouch. So painful.” Neil’s eyes held empathy as he reached over to pat his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. It was totally a shitty situation.” He took a breath, confident that how he’d handled the news was for the best. “So I just focused on him getting well and not overwhelming him with too many details because it was tough on him—tough to lose an entire year of your life.”
Neil nodded. “So you took him in while he recovered. Then helped him again when the lightning struck his tree.”
“Exactly. What any friend would do.” He winced. “Having him around all the time was pretty heartrending at first. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
He was finally admitting it, and fuck, the relief was like lifting a heavy blanket off his shoulders. And then he told Neil the meat of the problem, the very thing that was beautiful and awful all at once. “Then something happened between us this weekend.”
Neil smiled a sad little smile, and Emerson didn’t want to imagine what that meant. It made him question whether telling him was a good idea. After all, he had just spent time with Neil that weekend as well, and he’d thought they had come to an understanding.
He was glad Neil didn’t push for details—that would’ve made it more awkward—and instead respected his privacy by reading between the lines. “That was good, though, right?”
“It was, until…”
His eyebrows knitted together. “Until?”
“Until I found out that Audrey told him that we…you know.” He shook his head, unwilling to recreate all the particulars.
“And now you don’t know what’s real? Or how he truly feels because of all the unfinished business? Sort of like, which came first, the chicken or the egg?”
The feelings or the retelling of the feelings? Whoa. Yeah, maybe that.
Emerson nodded weakly. “You’re pretty good at this friend thing.”
“Thanks.” Neil leaned forward with a serious expression. “The real question is, does it matter how it all came about?”
“Maybe it shouldn’t, but it absolutely does to me. I don’t want… There’s been too much…” Shit that had gone wrong in my life. He felt a sharp stitch in his chest. “What if Rhys was with me this weekend because it was familiar—because I’m familiar? Or what if he ends up freaking like he did before?” He curled his hand into a fist to match the one in his stomach. “I can’t lose him again. I just…can’t.”
Fuck, had he just confessed that out loud? Neil probably thought he was being overly dramatic, but when he looked up, Neil’s eyes held a different emotion—compassion, and a hint of sadness. Maybe he understood all too well about losing someone, and as soon as Emerson got his wits about him again, he was going to return the favor and be a listening ear too if Neil needed him. Because that was what friends did. And he could use all the friends he could get.
“Then you should take the time you need to work through your emotions.” Neil’s lips lifted in a reassuring smile. “You gave him the time. You deserve some too.”
“Fuck, thank you.”
“But then talk to him and see if you can express what you’re going through. Even if it means that all the stuff you’re afraid of comes true. You can face it, and I’ll be here if you need to talk.”
He almost hugged Neil, but that would’ve been strange, so instead he thumped his shoulder, then got back to work.
That night he tried to act normal, mostly for Audrey’s sake, but he could tell Rhys knew something was up. He could feel his gaze on him all through dinner—which was an order from their favorite Chinese restaurant, thank God—and though he wanted to smile to let him know there wasn’t a storm brewing inside him, he couldn’t muster it. He was unsettled and bummed and confused and couldn’t shake the feeling that what they’d shared had been tainted somehow, so he stayed quieter than usual. By the time Emerson had sent the kids to bed, Rhys was already waiting for him in the kitchen, his elbows braced on the counter.
“Having second thoughts? About