appraising look.
Heat roared up Charlie’s neck, and he bent to retrieve his sneakers. He was so, so busted.
“So, uh, you’re up early,” he whispered to the couple. His gaze skated to the door to Jeremy’s room, still halfway open.
Nick’s eyes narrowed, but a hint of a smile played around his mouth. “Did you . . . spend the night with Jeremy?”
Becca’s eyes went wide and a slow smile climbed up her face.
The walls closed in on Charlie. His chest went tight and the air became suddenly too thin. Hastily, he leaned to grasp the doorknob and pulled the door closed. “Of course I didn’t spend the night with Jeremy.”
Crossing his arms, Nick smirked. “Then what were you doing?”
Charlie’s thoughts whirled, his gut burning with guilt for lying to his sister and the man who’d saved his life. “I, uh, was going to get a clean shirt from him. I thought he’d be up,” he finally managed.
“And you needed your shoes for that?” Nick asked.
Totally flustered now, Charlie shook his head. “I don’t know. Why does it matter?”
Nick held up his hands as if surrendering. “It doesn’t. No worries. I just thought maybe you two . . .” He shrugged. “ . . . were together.”
Oh God, oh God, oh God . Charlie felt totally cornered. Not only was he unsure how ready he was for others to know, he and Jeremy had never even talked about whether to go public in the first place. What if Jeremy didn’t want anyone to know?
“No,” Charlie blurted, his stomach burning. “We’re not together.”
“Oh. You’re not?” Becca asked, her tone full of disappointment.
But Charlie couldn’t think about that, couldn’t analyze what it meant, not when he was struggling to breathe. “No. For the last time, we’re not together. Gotta go shower,” he said. He rushed down the hall to the bathroom and shut himself inside.
He didn’t even turn on the light. All he could do was lean against the back of the door, his shoes still clutched to his chest. He wrote strings of code in his mind’s eye until he could breathe again.
What the hell just happened?
You freaked out. That’s what the hell just happened . Idiot .
Charlie heaved a deep breath, his lungs finally open enough to work again.
Wow. He hadn’t had a panic attack that bad since the morning thugs from the Church Gang had busted into his motel room, forced a black cloth over his head, tied him up, and thrown him into the back of a van. Of course, it made a lot more sense in that situation than it did just now.
Flipping on the light, Charlie turned and rested his back against the door. Why couldn’t he be normal?
“You know you’re going to make things so much harder for yourself. Living like this,” his father had said in their last argument about the long list of things he found disappointing about Charlie. It was an argument they’d had so many times. From the time Charlie had come out at nineteen to the very last. And at the top of dear old dad’s list of WHY CHARLIE WAS A DISAPPOINTMENT AS A SON AND A HUMAN BEING was Charlie’s sexual orientation.
“If things are harder, they’re harder. But I’m not choosing this life, Colonel,” Charlie said, knowing his use of his rank would irritate him. “It’s who I am.”
“You could try—”
“I’m gay!” Charlie threw his arms wide. “There’s no trying anything. This is just who I am. I’m gay. I’m shy. I’m a loner. I’m a computer geek. I’m fucking awkward sometimes—”
“Language, Charlie. Show a little respect,” his father said.
“Oh. Like you show me?”
“Respect is earned.”
“And I can’t earn yours as long as I’m gay, right? Fuck this,” he’d said before he stormed out. His father had chased after him, but Charlie hadn’t looked back.
Fuck this. Those were the last words he’d ever said to his father. Less than a year later, Becca had shown up at his apartment and delivered the news that their father had died in
Heat roared up Charlie’s neck, and he bent to retrieve his sneakers. He was so, so busted.
“So, uh, you’re up early,” he whispered to the couple. His gaze skated to the door to Jeremy’s room, still halfway open.
Nick’s eyes narrowed, but a hint of a smile played around his mouth. “Did you . . . spend the night with Jeremy?”
Becca’s eyes went wide and a slow smile climbed up her face.
The walls closed in on Charlie. His chest went tight and the air became suddenly too thin. Hastily, he leaned to grasp the doorknob and pulled the door closed. “Of course I didn’t spend the night with Jeremy.”
Crossing his arms, Nick smirked. “Then what were you doing?”
Charlie’s thoughts whirled, his gut burning with guilt for lying to his sister and the man who’d saved his life. “I, uh, was going to get a clean shirt from him. I thought he’d be up,” he finally managed.
“And you needed your shoes for that?” Nick asked.
Totally flustered now, Charlie shook his head. “I don’t know. Why does it matter?”
Nick held up his hands as if surrendering. “It doesn’t. No worries. I just thought maybe you two . . .” He shrugged. “ . . . were together.”
Oh God, oh God, oh God . Charlie felt totally cornered. Not only was he unsure how ready he was for others to know, he and Jeremy had never even talked about whether to go public in the first place. What if Jeremy didn’t want anyone to know?
“No,” Charlie blurted, his stomach burning. “We’re not together.”
“Oh. You’re not?” Becca asked, her tone full of disappointment.
But Charlie couldn’t think about that, couldn’t analyze what it meant, not when he was struggling to breathe. “No. For the last time, we’re not together. Gotta go shower,” he said. He rushed down the hall to the bathroom and shut himself inside.
He didn’t even turn on the light. All he could do was lean against the back of the door, his shoes still clutched to his chest. He wrote strings of code in his mind’s eye until he could breathe again.
What the hell just happened?
You freaked out. That’s what the hell just happened . Idiot .
Charlie heaved a deep breath, his lungs finally open enough to work again.
Wow. He hadn’t had a panic attack that bad since the morning thugs from the Church Gang had busted into his motel room, forced a black cloth over his head, tied him up, and thrown him into the back of a van. Of course, it made a lot more sense in that situation than it did just now.
Flipping on the light, Charlie turned and rested his back against the door. Why couldn’t he be normal?
“You know you’re going to make things so much harder for yourself. Living like this,” his father had said in their last argument about the long list of things he found disappointing about Charlie. It was an argument they’d had so many times. From the time Charlie had come out at nineteen to the very last. And at the top of dear old dad’s list of WHY CHARLIE WAS A DISAPPOINTMENT AS A SON AND A HUMAN BEING was Charlie’s sexual orientation.
“If things are harder, they’re harder. But I’m not choosing this life, Colonel,” Charlie said, knowing his use of his rank would irritate him. “It’s who I am.”
“You could try—”
“I’m gay!” Charlie threw his arms wide. “There’s no trying anything. This is just who I am. I’m gay. I’m shy. I’m a loner. I’m a computer geek. I’m fucking awkward sometimes—”
“Language, Charlie. Show a little respect,” his father said.
“Oh. Like you show me?”
“Respect is earned.”
“And I can’t earn yours as long as I’m gay, right? Fuck this,” he’d said before he stormed out. His father had chased after him, but Charlie hadn’t looked back.
Fuck this. Those were the last words he’d ever said to his father. Less than a year later, Becca had shown up at his apartment and delivered the news that their father had died in
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