Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

TRAVIS

T he moment I'd pulled up to Parker's place on Saturday, I could tell he was off. It wasn't anything overt—his smile was still in place, his greeting warm—but there was a tension in his shoulders that didn't sit right with me.

"Hey, man," I'd said, trying to keep it light. "Ready for the game?"

"Sure," Parker replied, but his voice lacked its usual luster.

As we drove, I'd snuck glances at him, watching the sunlight flicker over his features. He'd caught me looking once and raised an eyebrow, a silent question lingering in the air between us. I'd shrugged it off with a grin, not quite ready to admit even to myself why I couldn't tear my gaze away.

"Chicago Cubs aren't ready for us, huh?" I'd attempted humor, nudging his arm with my elbow.

"Let's hope they're ready for the Yankees," Parker quipped back, and the corner of his mouth twitched up—a real smile that time.

I'd felt this swell of something in my chest, like pride or maybe joy. Hell, I don't know—it was warmth, pure and simple, knowing I'd managed to coax that smile out of him. But here's the thing: as much as I love hanging with Akio, Jasper, and Garrett, what I feel for Parker—it's just not the same. I've never craved their touch—never watched them like some cheesy rom-com lead pining after the one who got away. I've never felt the urge to brush away a strand of hair falling into their eyes or wondered if their lips were as soft as they appeared under the dim bar lights.

With Parker, though, it seemed to be all I think about. It was like there was some gravitational pull that I couldn't fight, drawing me in, begging me to reach out and learn the texture of his skin, the curve of his fingers intertwined with mine. The thought alone sent a jolt through me, like electricity sparking down my spine.

And that was the problem, wasn't it? Because nothing could happen. Parker was taken—he loved David, and I wasn't the kind of guy to step on another man's turf. I respected boundaries, no matter how much it might sting to do so.

So instead, I was stuck in a limbo where I'd rather spend my nights watching shitty sitcom reruns with him than prowling Whipped for my next fix. Jesus, when did I start choosing cuddles over casual sex?

I tried to shake the thoughts from my head, focusing on my reflection in the mirror as I changed out of the sleep pants and t-shirt I'd been lazing around in all day. My hands moved automatically, fixing my hair, tucking in my shirt, but my mind kept replaying every interaction with Parker—every shared glance, every accidental brush of our hands.

"Get it together, Brooks," I muttered to myself, my tone edged with frustration. "He's just a friend." A friend who's been taking up way too much of my mental real estate lately.

"Fuck," I exhaled sharply, resting my palms against the cool bathroom counter. The tiles beneath my feet were solid and sure, grounding me. I lifted my gaze, meeting my own blue eyes in the mirror, searching for answers in the familiar reflection. "Can't fall for someone who's already in love," I remind myself firmly.

But the heart's a stubborn bastard, and mine seemed hell-bent on making a fool of me. It didn't care about the rules or the complications. It just knew that when Parker laughed, it was the best sound in the world. When he was hurting, I wanted to be the one who put things to right. And when he smiled—well, his smile felt like coming home.

"Shit," I cursed under my breath, a resigned sigh escaping me. I was so totally screwed.

The prospect of facing him the next day, of keeping my feelings under wraps, loomed over me like heavy storm clouds. But I'd do it—I had to. Because even if I couldn't have Parker the way I wanted, I refused to lose him altogether.

"Friends," I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper, as if by saying it out loud, I could make it true. "Just friends." And with that fragile resolve, I pushed away from the counter and strode out the door, ready to face another day pretending that's all I'd ever need him to be.

The crunch of gravel under my tires was a soothing rhythm as I pulled up to Akio and Morgan's cabin. It sat nestled among towering pines, their needles whispering in the gentle breeze that blew across the clearing. The place was postcard-perfect, a testament to the quiet, happy life they'd built together just outside the city.

"Travis!" Akio greeted me with his trademark grin, enveloping me in a bear hug as soon as I stepped out of the car.

"Hey, man," I replied, the familiar warmth of friendship easing some of the tension I hadn't realized I'd been carrying in my shoulders.

Morgan joined us, his smile more reserved but no less genuine. "Good to see you," he said, leading the way inside.

Their home was as warm and inviting as they were—full of rich woods and soft fabrics that made you want to curl up and stay awhile. We settled into the living room, catching up on the little things—the latest series we'd binged, the ever-entertaining antics of Jasper's dog, and the new hutch Morgan was building.

"Speaking of relationships," Akio ventured, a playful lilt to his voice, "you've been spending quite a bit of time with Parker, huh?"

I shifted uncomfortably on the plush couch, my heart rate inexplicably picking up. "We're just friends and we work together," I said, perhaps too quickly.

Akio raised an eyebrow, giving me that look that said he wasn't buying it for a second. "All I said was that you two have been spending time together, but your reaction tells me there might be something more going on. So, what is it?"

"Nothing," I said, trying to sound casual, but the word came out more like a defense than a statement.

"Trav." Akio's tone was gentle now, coaxing. "Talk to us."

I let out a breath that felt like I'd been holding for days, weeks even. "It's—complicated," I started, avoiding both of their gazes. "Parker's great, you know? And yeah, we've been hanging out a lot. He—he makes me laugh."

"Travis," Morgan prompted softly, waiting for the rest.

"Damn it," I cursed under my breath, not sure if I was ready to put words to it all—to make it real. But it was Akio and Morgan. If I couldn't be honest with them, then who? "Alright," I started, plucking at a loose thread on the arm of the couch. "How did you two know for sure? That what you had was more than friendship?"

Morgan's eyes softened as they met Akio's, a silent conversation passing between them before he turned back to me. "I knew Akio was someone special the first day we met. He yelled at me for startling him."

"Sounds like love at first sight," I teased, but my heart wasn't in it.

"Hardly." Morgan laughed, but then his voice grew warm with the memory. "But beneath that frustration, there was this—passion, a fire in him that I'd never seen in anyone else. It made me want to get to know him better, to understand what fueled that intensity."

Akio snorted, shaking his head fondly at the recollection. "And I knew Morgan was different because, even when we'd argue, no matter how annoyed we got with each other, he still held doors open for me. Even angry, his care and respect for me outweighed everything else. No one had ever put me first like that." Their gazes locked, and for a moment, the world outside their loving bubble ceased to exist.

"Damn," I murmured, watching them gaze at each other with such undisguised affection. It was enough to make any cynic believe in true love.

"Travis," Akio's voice cut through the moment, bringing me back to reality. "Are you falling for Parker?"

The question hit me like a line drive to the chest. I closed my eyes, sifting through the jumbled emotions—joy, fear, longing—all circling back to one person: Parker. With a deep breath, I opened my eyes and admitted the truth."Yeah, I think I am," I confessed, feeling a weight lift and another settle in its place. "What am I going to do?"

"Travis," Morgan said, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees, concern etched into his features. "You're going to have to let those feelings go. Parker has a boyfriend."

I felt my stomach drop at Morgan's words, even though I knew he was right. "I know," I said, running a hand through my hair. "Trust me, I know. It's just—easier said than done, you know?"

Akio's brow furrowed. "Have you thought about talking to Parker about how you feel? Maybe if you get it out in the open, it'll be easier to move past these feelings."

I shook my head vehemently. "No way. I can't risk messing up our friendship or our working relationship. Plus, what would I even say? ‘Hey Parker, I know you're happily committed to David, but I can't stop thinking about you'? Yeah, that'd go over well."

Morgan eyed me seriously. "Whatever you decide to do, just promise you'll be careful."

My teeth clenched tightly. "I'm not going to do anything to ruin his relationship."

"I meant be careful with your heart. We don't want to see you get hurt," Morgan said gently.

My shoulders slumped, my anger disappearing as quickly as it had flared. "You guys are the best. I don't deserve you."

"That's what I keep telling Akio," Morgan deadpanned.

It took a second for his words to hit me and then I threw a pillow at his head. He dodged it easily, grinning proudly at his own joke as Akio laughed.

"Alright, assholes. I'm gonna head out."

"Hey! I was being nice. Why am I an asshole?" Akio argued as we all stood up.

I grabbed him up in a big hug. "I'm sorry. You're not. You're just married to one."

Morgan gave my arm a playful punch and pulled his husband to his side. "Don't tell him that. It might scare him away."

Akio wrapped his arms around Morgan's waist and stared up at him adoringly. "Nah. I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

I made gagging noises as the two of them kissed, but I was only teasing. Where I used to feel that such overt displays of affection were revolting, now, I just felt jealous. Jealous that they were free to be with the person they cared about most in the world, free to show their true feelings.

I said goodbye then stepped outside. The laughter and warmth from Akio and Morgan's house receded with each step I took away from it, leaving me to confront the cold truth—I liked Parker, really liked him. Not just as a friend or a co-worker, but in a way that made me want to be there for his every frown and smile.

With every stride towards my car, memories of time spent with Parker played like a highlight reel in my mind—the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed, how his voice softened when he shared stories of his small-town life. Those were the happiest times of my life, yet they felt like borrowed moments now, knowing he belonged to someone else.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, jamming my hands into my pockets. My friends' advice echoed in my ears: back off. I knew they were right, but it didn't make the realization any less painful. Parker had a boyfriend, a life built with another man. There was no future for us, not even a sliver of possibility.

Determined to shake off the melancholy clinging to me like a second skin, I pointed my car to the one place I knew could distract me—Whipped. The club's neon sign hummed a siren song, beckoning me inside. The bass throbbed through the walls, a pulse that promised oblivion. I snagged a drink at the bar, the liquid courage barely making a dent in the lump lodged in my throat. It wasn't long before I found myself on the dance floor, the thrum of music vibrating through my bones.

That's when he sidled up to me—a tall guy with sharp features and a come-hither smile. His hands found my waist, guiding me to the rhythm. I let myself get swept up in the dance, his body pressed flush against mine. He moved with confidence, his fingers tracing the lines of muscle down my back. For a moment, I closed my eyes and surrendered to the fantasy—the idea that it was Parker behind me, whispering sweet nothings with a voice that sent shivers down my spine.

"Imagine what I could do to you off this dance floor," the man murmured, his breath hot against my ear.

My eyes snapped open, and reality crashed over me. I peeled myself away from the stranger, his touch leaving a cold void as I stepped back. The room spun slightly, the strobe lights and colored beams creating a kaleidoscope of confusion that mirrored the turmoil inside me. I needed air, space, something solid to ground me. My feet carried me through the sea of writhing bodies and out into the cool night.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath, rubbing the back of my neck with a shaky hand. The alley behind Whipped was empty except for a few scattered cigarette butts and the distant echo of laughter from the street beyond. I leaned against the cold brick wall, letting its roughness press into my skin.

It's just a crush, Travis. It'll pass. But even those words sounded hollow now. With a deep sigh, I pushed off the wall, climbed into my car, and started the drive home. My thoughts kept drifting back to Parker. How could someone who was only supposed to be a colleague, a friend, sneak into every corner of my mind?

When I finally reached my condo, I was exhausted. I ran a hand through my hair before collapsing onto the couch. In the dark, the outlines of my furniture were familiar shapes in a world that suddenly felt very unfamiliar. "Get it together," I whispered into the emptiness around me. But there was no conviction behind the words.

Closing my eyes, I tried to conjure up images of past flings, of nameless faces and fleeting moments of pleasure, but they all paled in comparison to the memory of Parker's shy smile. The way he'd hesitate before speaking, like he was choosing his words carefully, not wanting to waste a single one. It was endearing, frustrating, and absolutely maddening.

"Damn it." I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes, willing away the image of him.

Sleep didn't come easy that night. Each time I closed my eyes, I saw Parker—Parker at work, Parker laughing at some dumb joke I'd made, Parker looking at me with something that I dared hope was more than friendship. Tossing and turning, I wrestled with the sheets and my conscience until the first light of dawn crept in through the blinds.

"Today's going to be hell," I muttered to the ceiling. Facing Parker at work without betraying my feelings felt like an impossible task. I couldn't keep pretending nothing had changed because everything had changed. I cared about him, more than I'd planned, more than I should.

"Maybe I can avoid him," I thought out loud, knowing full well how ridiculous that sounded. We worked together; avoidance wasn't exactly an option.

The shower did little to wash away the frustration clinging to my skin. As water cascaded over me, I tried to strategize how I could keep my distance, stay professional, but every scenario ended with me either confessing everything or acting like a complete idiot.

"Great choices, Travis," I scoffed at my reflection in the foggy mirror. My blue eyes stared back, looking just as lost as I felt. Pulling on my clothes, I braced for the day ahead. There was no easy solution, no magic fix for the mess I'd gotten myself into. All I knew was I had to protect my heart from the inevitable hurt that loomed on the horizon.

"Let's do this," I said, grabbing my keys and heading out the door, the weight of my unspoken words heavy in my chest.