CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO Cole

Two weeks went by and Chad and I hung out three times. We spent time on the beach one of those times while I watched him and Rat surf. We all drank beer and then Rat made his exit, winking at me like he knew a secret. Chad and I stayed and talked until the sun set behind us. I knew I was crazy about him, but had decided to let a connection happen organically, if it was to happen at all.

The next time was when his folks invited me over for dinner again and I quickly accepted, even though I had not returned the favor by having them over to my place. The evening was a good time had by all, but I was not receiving signals from Chad that he saw me as anything but a friend.

He was warm, of course, and always affectionate, but I convinced myself he was simply a hugger by nature. Based on how loving he was with his parents, and then after seeing him with his buddies, he was just a demonstrative guy and because he expended the same loving energy with me, didn't necessarily mean he felt anything other than friendship.

"I'll fix dinner here at your house and we'll invite my parents over,"he'd offered after I voiced my worry about reciprocating. We were chatting on my deck after he'd surfed and was heading home. I'd waved for him to come and visit.

"You don't think that would seem strange to them?"I'd asked, hopeful that he liked me the way they might think he did.

He laughed out loud. "Cole, come on now. This is me we're talking about. My folks already know I'm strange," he'd quipped.

"But what about, you know,"I'd begun, unsure what I was asking or how to ask it. "You know. My house. You and me. That sort of thing."

"Oh, that,"he'd said, waving a dismissive hand at me. "Mom and Dad know I'm not looking for anything but friendship. They also know I don't have the head space for love right now."

Maybe it was the disappointment of hearing his words. Possibly it was that I wasn't good at courtship, but I said no to his idea about hosting his parents at my house. I was hurt by his words but couldn't figure out why they cut the way they did. I was emotionally invested in him and was afraid I was banking on something that wouldn't bear fruit.

My phone rang, startling me from my inner dialogue. "Hey, Marla," I said, seeing her face on the screen as a contact.

"Well, shit, Cole. Try to act a little more excited when your only friend calls," she stated. "Why's your dick in the dirt?"

"Chad's also my friend," I said, sounding like a kindergartener.

"And how does that make you feel?" she wisecracked.

"Screw you," I muttered. "You aren't my shrink."

"Sounds like you might need one," she replied. "Still in the friend zone, are we?"

I groaned and sat on a deck chair, wishing her question didn't bother me as much as it did. I knew she was right and hated to admit that I'd wondered the same damn thing.

"Fuck!" I hissed. "I don't know what I'm doing, Marla. He's a kid, for God's sake."

"Yeah. A kid that has you tied up in knots," she reminded me.

She was right. Marla was always right, and I hated her for it. Chad did have me in knots and I was confused by what we were to each other. Why couldn't being friends with him be enough for me?

"He's so much fun to be around, Marla. He is unlike any man I have ever met or talked to," I gushed. "I mean it. He is different and so kind. And nice. And sweet. And smart. And… and…"

"Take a fucking breath, sweetie," she admonished. "I get it. You have a crush on the quarterback, but he doesn't see the chess club nerd the same way."

She was right. Again. Dammit! "You're probably right," I admitted.

"Does he know how you feel about him?" she asked. "And I don't mean in some ‘he has to read your goddamned mindto know' sorta way, either."

"Remember when I told you that I told him that I liked him? We were at the beach and then I invited him over?"

"Jesus! Listen to yourself, missy. You sound like a cheerleader at a slumber party," she teased.

I stood and pinched off a dead daisy from a potted plant before practically throwing myself back onto the chaise lounge. The weather was hot and humid, matching my dismal personality. I stared at the surf, feeling depressed.

"I am not good at this, Marla. No wonder Alan walked out."

"Fuck Alan," she hissed. "You're a good person, Cole Hicks. It is time that you stopped beating yourself up over Alan. He's gone, my friend. He moved on. So the fuck what!"

"For the first time in years, I feel excited about something and someone," I said. "I really truly want to feel this way, Marla. I'm sad about being sad all the time."

"That's it, Cole. That is finally fucking it," she agreed.

"What's it?" I asked, confused.

"You just said that you're excited about something or someone," she began. "You voiced the words out loud… finally."

"I did, didn't I?" I asked.

I let my words live in my mind for a moment. I had said something positive for the first time in years and I felt good. When had been the last time I had been inspired about anything in my life? I couldn't remember.

"Now what are you going to do about these feelings, my friend?" she asked. "I want you to decide to move forward finally. This is an achievement, Cole. With or without surfer boy!"

I stood from the lounger and caught my reflection in the sliding glass doors. I looked fucking good. I was fit. I was young. So what if Alan dumped me? He wasn't the only guy in the world. So what if Chad wasn't ready to date? I was.

"You're being awfully quiet, Cole," Marla said on the other end of the call. "I know you when you get like this after good advice. Spill it, boy."

"I am ready to date," I said. "And I'm also done being sad about Alan."

"Good for you," she said. "So, what are you gonna do, Casanova?"

There was silence on the phone as I tried to answer her question. I wanted to sound brave, even fierce with my response. "I'm not sure."

"Oh, my fucking God," she moaned.

"I really like Chad," I stated. "I want to be with him."

"Then make it happen, asshole," she said. "You're successful. You're a catch. You're fucking loaded, too."

"He's not a big fan of money," I stated.

"Even better," she said. "Wow! That's a first for a gay guy, isn't it?"

"Like I said, Chad is different from any guy I've met."

"Then get going already," she urged. "Guys like him don't stay single long."

I hadn't thought about that. How did I know whether Chad was seeing someone else? I didn't.

"Thanks for the call, Marla. You're a good friend."

"But seriously, Cole. You've got this. You are a good partner. I've witnessed you in a relationship. You're good at it, and I mean that," she said. "And please don't let old, tired, voices convince you that you don't have something to offer, because you do."

"You really think so?"

"I really do," she answered. "And rumor has it that Alan has been saying he made a mistake in leaving you."

Her comment caught me off guard. I should have been thrilled by her news, but I wasn't. Alan ruined what we'd had. I could never trust him again, even if I felt like I missed us every single day. I was surprised to hear myself think such thoughts. Maybe I could see that proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. The pinprick of light was very tiny at best, but I could envision a life after Alan, and that was indeed an achievement.

"I wish he would've felt like that the day before he left," I admitted. After admitting that to her, I felt oddly free. "Surprisingly, Marla, I feel absolutely nothing hearing you say that."

"And that, my friend, is the best news I've heard this year. I love you, Cole. You're lovable. You hear me?" she asked.

"Thank you," I whispered. "Love you, too."

I hung up the phone and walked to the edge of the deck. The waves were small and quiet due to the calm and sweltering day. The view was spectacular and suddenly I felt a tiny bit less alone.

"You need to convince him he can love again."I jumped out of my skin, turning in every direction to find the voice I'd just heard as clear as day. "You didn't think I'd leave your ass alone, did you?"