Chapter 14

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ADAM

ADAM TOOK a healthy swig of scotch, then quickly stuffed the bottle back onto a shelf in his closet when he heard footsteps approaching his bedroom.

Fuck . Hiding the bottles hadn't been too hard, provided he actually remembered to do so. Three times over the past two weeks, Adam had pulled out a bottle and forgot to put it back. The first time, Adam heard Haven come in the front door, having just gotten home from work, and had to scramble to search the apartment since he couldn't remember where he'd set it down. The second and third times, he'd left the bottle out on his nightstand and didn't remember it until the next morning, then had to race to hide it before Haven got up.

As for throwing one out when it was empty, that was another matter entirely. Adam was terrible at remembering to take out the trash, so Haven wound up doing it more often than not. Adam couldn't simply shove the bottle to the bottom of the kitchen bin since Haven might notice it when he pulled out the bag. He had to wait until Haven wasn't home and sneak it out to the dumpsters without being caught.

Still, he'd managed it all so far. At least, he thought he had. Unless Haven was snooping through his room on the days when Adam worked later than him. Except Haven wasn't like that. So maybe the fact that Haven hadn't said anything meant Adam had managed to keep the bottles successfully out of sight.

Hiding the drinking itself, though? Now that was getting to be a problem.

Haven may not have said anything but he certainly had been looking at Adam strangely. Like he suspected something was off but couldn't put his finger on it.

A knock sounded on his bedroom door.

Adam winced. Shit . "Just a second!" he called out as he raced for his bathroom. Adam eased the door shut, snatched up his toothbrush, and rushed through brushing his teeth, trying to chase away the scent of alcohol on his breath. He flushed the toilet for good measure before running the sink to rinse out his mouth, pretending to wash his hands. He gave his reflection a quick glance, hoping he looked normal, then stepped out of the bathroom and went to open his bedroom door.

"Sorry. Really had to pee," he lied, hoping the smile he plastered on his face was convincing enough. "How was your sleepover?"

Haven blushed as a great, beaming smile took over his face. Monday and Tuesday were Haven and Theo's weekend, due to their work schedule, so the couple often spent those days together at Theo's apartment. Adam envied the hell out of them for that. John worked a normal Monday-through-Friday, while Adam's own schedule was all over the place. That day, he'd worked a shorter, earlier shift, which meant he'd been home for hours already, pacing the apartment, climbing the walls, waiting for Haven to get home, only to wind up caving to temptation of that drink.

"It was great," Haven replied, seemingly oblivious to Adam's inner torment. "I told Theo I was craving cake, and he rushed right out to the store to get me one. Except he came back with three different kinds, so we barely made a dent in all of it. I brought some back with me, but we might have to take the rest to work."

Adam barked a laugh as he followed Haven to the kitchen. Sure enough, there were a couple tupperware containers containing pieces of sheet cake and cheesecake.

"We kept the ice cream cake," Haven added. "Didn't want it to melt on the way home."

"Good call." Adam snatched up one of the containers, grabbed a fork, and dug in. Maybe it would help cover any last traces of alcohol on his breath, in case brushing his teeth hadn't been enough. "Oh, that's good," he moaned around a mouthful.

Haven smiled, but the expression quickly faded. "Um. Listen. I need to tell you something."

Adam's stomach twisted, threatening to bring the cake right back up. Fuck. Here it comes . Haven was going to call him out on his drinking. He just knew it.

Except Haven was blushing again as he said, "I've been putting off telling you about this because I feel like I owe you so much for everything you've done for me over the years–"

Adam quickly swallowed the cake in his mouth so he could speak. "What?" he interrupted. "No! You don't owe me anything."

"You asked me to move in right when I was on the verge of having to live in my car again," Haven countered. "And then when we got this place," Haven went on, gesturing at the apartment, "I know you haven't been charging me a fair share of the rent and utilities. I gave up trying to argue the point and decided to do all the chores to make up for it, even though it didn't feel like enough."

Adam winced. Shit . He had lied about Haven's half of the bills, hoping Haven would never find out. But it didn't make sense to split the expenses right down the middle when Adam's stuff took up far more space than Haven's did, not to mention Adam could afford it far more easily than Haven could do so. Besides, what Adam got out of it was more than worth it. "You don't owe me anything," he repeated insistently. "I was getting sick of living alone."

A look of guilt flashed across Haven's face, but it didn't entirely kill the smile that was still there. "You know what? Never mind. Things are fine the way they are. I'll tell him I'm not ready–"

"Haven."

Haven sighed, but the beaming smile came right back as he said, "Theo asked me to move in with him."

Adam gasped as a combination of joy for his friend and terror for himself simultaneously crashed through him. He shoved the tupperware aside and flung his arms around Haven. "Oh my god! That's amazing! I'm so happy for you. Go call him and tell him yes right now!"

Haven hugged him back, then pulled away just enough to look him in the eyes. "Are you sure? I feel like I'd be abandoning you–"

It took everything in Adam to fight the urge to wince at those words. His heart was beating too fast, feeling the panic of isolation already setting in even though Haven was still there.

Because Haven was right. A part of Adam did feel like he was being abandoned again. But a much louder, stronger voice in his head was practically screaming at him to let Haven go. To put Haven's needs first. Because, otherwise, something bad would happen to Haven—Adam just knew it—and there was no way he could live with that.

"Go," Adam insisted, fighting to keep a smile on his face. He truly was happy for his friend even though he felt something shatter inside him. "You deserve this. You guys are so fucking adorable together and you both deserve to be happy."

Haven studied his eyes for a moment, then that beaming smile slowly came back. "Okay." He let out a squeak of joy, covered his mouth with both hands like he was trying to contain himself, then threw his arms around Adam. "Thank you. And we'll still totally hang out and see each other all the time."

Adam nodded, resisting the urge to squeeze Haven tighter in desperation.

"Hey!" Haven gasped, holding Adam at arm's length. "Maybe your friend can move down here. I heard you saying something about having him move to Paso and start over. Now you can offer him my room."

Adam's eyebrows went up. "Sky?" Huh . Now there was an idea. Except that Skylar had been adamant about finishing out his time in San Francisco until he had enough money for surgery. Having Skylar move to their small, middle-of-nowhere town wouldn't help the boy reach his goals. Still, Adam gave Haven a nod. "Yeah. I'll tell him and see what he says."

Haven beamed again. "I'm gonna go call Theo." He gave Adam another quick hug, then hurried off to his bedroom.

Adam slumped back against the counter. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. This could not have come at a worse time. The dreaded anniversary was right around the corner, and having Haven move out would mean being alone with his memories. He wanted to tell Haven to wait. To not leave at all.

But he couldn't do that. The guilt of even thinking it made his stomach turn.

It was all Adam could do to wait until Haven went to bed before he dug out the bottle and had another drink.

And another.

And another.

When his alarm went off the next morning, the sound of it stabbed right through his skull.

"Holy fuck," he muttered, reaching out blindly to try grabbing his phone. He peeled his eyes open, staring blearily at the screen as he jabbed at the button to stop the alarm. It finally went blessedly silent. Adam dropped the phone on the nightstand with a sigh. He was about to turn over, wanting nothing more than to hide in his bed all day long, when he spotted the bottle resting beside his phone. "Shit!"

Adam threw back the covers and lurched upright, then stopped and held his head with both hands. Oh, fuck . His temples pounded and his entire body felt wrung dry. But he had to hide that bottle. Adam forced his eyes open and reached out. He grabbed the bottle, then had to hunt for the cap, which had rolled just under his bed. Adam spun it into place and slogged over to his closet so he could tuck the bottle out of sight.

He shuffled into his bathroom to brush his teeth, concentrating on his stomach all the while. Adam felt no urge to throw up, but he almost wished he would. He considered trying to make himself vomit, except there was probably nothing in his stomach to bring up, anyway.

Once he chased away the nasty, dry feeling in his mouth, Adam dragged himself out to the kitchen, where he found a pot of coffee waiting for him. Damn it . Haven had done it again.

Adam poured himself a cup, too tired to even bother with cream and sugar, and shuffled over to the dining table, slumping heavily into a chair. He took a sip and almost gagged. Black coffee—especially this cheap, store-brand stuff that they bought in deference to Haven's frugality—was just plain nasty. Maybe he was spoiled from working in a coffee shop for so many years. Still, it slowly but surely began to work its magic, giving him the first hints of relief from the pain.

He finished the coffee and went back for a second cup, taking the time to doctor that one before he trudged back to the table and resumed his seat. Adam decided that would do for breakfast, forgoing any food in case it didn't stay down. When his second cup was empty, Adam left the mug in the sink and shuffled back to his bedroom to get ready for work.

It was all he could do to move about quietly, not wanting to wake Haven. The boy didn't need to go in to work for several more hours, so there was no need for him to be up this early. Adam got himself dressed, fixed his hair, and brushed his teeth once more. He avoided his reflection as he left his bathroom, then cringed at the sight of his bedroom. His bed was unmade, looking far too tempting even with the mess of clothing he'd left scattered across it during his hunt for something clean to wear. Adam scanned the room through squinted eyes, making sure he hadn't left a bottle out in plain sight.

He crept out of his room, snagged a water bottle from the refrigerator, and took a healthy gulp before hunting around for his keys and heading outside. Adam was halfway to work when he realized he'd forgotten to pack himself a lunch. Fuck me. Surprise, surprise . At least there were plenty of restaurants nearby. He could always walk over and buy something.

Except when he patted his pockets, he realized he'd forgotten his wallet, too.

"Fuck!" Adam pulled into a parking spot and rested his head down on the steering wheel. It took everything he had to shut off the engine, drag himself from the car, and walk into the back of the shop so he could clock in.

Morgan breezed by him, clutching a stack of disposable cups, then lurched to a stop. "Shit. Hey. You okay?"

Adam tried for a smile, but he wasn't sure he managed it. "I'm fine."

Morgan's brow furrowed. "Are you hungover?"

Adam winced. Shit . "No, just a headache," he lied.

Morgan's frown deepened, but he quickly set the cups aside before he darted into the employee break room. He came back out with a mug of coffee—the shop's own house blend, which didn't need anything added to it, it was that good—and a bottle of pain medication. He handed both to Adam.

"Take a moment before you go out there, okay?" Morgan said, then grabbed the cups and resumed whatever he'd been doing before Adam arrived.

Adam slumped into a chair, swallowed down two pills, then lingered over the coffee as long as he could manage it before he dragged himself up and went to face the crowds.

The day seemed to last forever, right up until it was time for him to clock out. Then it hit him just how early in the afternoon it was. How many hours he had left to kill on his own.

He wanted to call John. Or go see him. Except that would mean disturbing the man at work, and Adam wasn't about to do that.

In the end, he went home and blasted some music, singing along at the top of his lungs, hoping the burst of expression would help quiet the nagging voice in his head, telling him to go straight to the bottle. It was easier when Haven got home from work. But once Haven went to bed, all bets were off.

The next day went by in a hazy blur. Adam felt like he was running on autopilot, going through the motions of getting up, getting dressed, going to work, and coming home. All the while, his heart kept beating a little too fast. Every time he walked past a calendar, he couldn't help eyeing the date.

Nine years ago that day, John was kicking Adam out of his bed. Three days from now, Adam would turn twenty-seven.

Which meant, in just two days, he'd have to face the anniversary of the worst day of his life.

He didn't even make it that far before he lost it.

On Friday morning, Adam found himself dressed and in his car, heading to work, with no memory of how he'd gotten there. His hands shook and he broke out in a sweat all over as the memories assaulted him, one after the other.

John's fingertips touching his naked backside, giving him the first, glorious hints of what he'd been craving for months, only to have it snatched away in heartbreaking rejection.

Being stuck in a hospital waiting room, bored to tears, only to hear those devastating words.

"We did everything we could…"

His own voice screaming over and over until he had to be sedated. "Daddy! No! No! Daddy, please! No!"

Banging on John's door, needing the man even after his rejection.

Pouring that first glass of scotch that his dad would never drink.

Adam yanked the steering wheel to the right, barely registering the blaring horns all around him as he pulled into a liquor store parking lot. He rushed inside and grabbed the first bottle of alcohol he saw, not even caring what it was. Adam's hands shook as he pulled out his ID. A manic laugh escaped him. Of course, today, he'd remembered his wallet, so there was nothing to stop him as he threw cash on the counter and rushed out of the store, barely making it to his car before he opened the bottle and gulped down several swallows. He winced at the burn of it, but as the alcohol settled in his empty stomach and began to enter his bloodstream, the voices slowly grew quiet.

He shoved the bottle into a cup holder, started his car, and continued the last few blocks to work.