home and wallow in my misery, and he wouldn’t leave me be. He never left me be. I both hated and loved him for it.
“That’s big talk for a man carrying his own bowling shoes and ball in the bag,” Kent deadpanned, pointing to my bag.
“The shoes they give never fit,” I grumbled.
Truth was, Kent and I loved bowling. We’d even joined a bowling league for the past ten years.
Jackson shook his head and passed a pair of shoes to his husband, Jake. “You guys are nerds.”
“Nerds who own a sexy club,” Jake added.
“It’s all about balance,” Kent joked.
We snagged a pitcher of beer and headed to our lane.
“Why are we doing this again?” Jackson asked, once his shoes were on.
Kent leaned back in the plastic chair, his ankle crossed over his knee, and took a long pull from his beer, eyeing me the whole time. When he finally pulled his drink away, I already knew I was going to want to punch him. “This guy has been pissy all week, so I figured drinking and chucking a ball down to crush pins may cheer him up.”
“I’m not pissy.” I was beyond pissy.
“If you pout any more, you’re going to give that baby crying over there a run for its money.”
I didn’t even bother responding. Instead, I held up my middle finger and decided I’d try even harder to crush his ass. Maybe it would give me something to take my mind off of how badly I’d screwed up.
On my first turn, I got a strike. When Kent only knocked down eight, I couldn’t even find it in me to gloat.
This trend continued for the first game, adding a lot of trash talking. However, by the time we reached the second game, Kent and I had teamed up to make fun of Jackson, who had thrown more gutter balls than I thought possible. Even that didn’t take my mind off of how much I was hurting. I needed to get out of here. Maybe if I drank enough, I’d at least be numb.
“Are you trying?” I asked.
“Yes,” he growled. “I’m sorry I spent my life getting laid and not being a nerd in a bowling alley on the weekends.”
“Do you want us to get the bumpers,” Kent joked.
When Jake laughed, Jackson turned to him with an incredulous stare.
He held up his hands in surrender but couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. “Note to self, don’t let Jackson teach our kids bowling.”
“Kids?” I asked.
Jake and Jackson had been together for a few years now. Married for one and the picture-perfect couple for marital bliss. I’d known Jackson since he was a twenty-year-old kid performing at Voyeur. Over the years, he’d become like a son to me, or at least a nephew. He’d struggled, and I’d wanted to help as much as I could. I cared for him like I cared for Olivia. I didn’t have any kids, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have people I loved and cared for.
The thought of Jake and Jackson with kids made me feel like a proud father, seeing how far he’d come. But I couldn’t ignore the pang it created, that echoed through my chest like a whisper that told me something was missing with me.
“Yeah,” Jake said, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’ve looked into the process of adopting. Just looked.”
“I tried to ask Carina to be our surrogate, but Ian shot us down pretty quick,” Jackson said.
“You didn’t?” Kent laughed.
“He sure did,” Jake muttered before taking another drink.
“Holy shit. You’ve got balls, Jackson,” Kent said, wiping his eyes.
“Big ones,” he returned with a wink.
Jake rolled his eyes but laughed before turning to me. “Hey, D. How was your trip with Hanna?”
“Good,” I answered on autopilot. Despite the shitshow of the last couple of weeks, I smiled, remembering how happy we’d been that week.
I love you.
A wave of adrenaline washed over me like it had the first time.
“Good god. Look at that smile,” Kent said.
Kent had been harassing me all week about my sour mood, and I knew bowling and beer was supposed to loosen me up so I’d finally talk to him, but with three sets of eyes on me, the last thing I wanted to do was talk.
“We’re just friends.” The denial unnaturally rolled off my tongue, but I didn’t know what else to say.
“Bullshit,” Kent shouted. “I know you, and that’s a load of bullshit.”
Get out.
It actually wasn’t a load of bullshit. I wasn’t sure we were anything