Chapter 56

56

JASON

As I headed over to Zach's later that afternoon with Daisy's nose pressed to my truck's passenger window, I contemplated what I wanted to say. I'd told Drea I'd be upfront with Zach and do my best not to lead him on, but how did I start that conversation? I want to get to know you again, but don't get your hopes up because I still don't know if I can forgive you didn't seem like the best way to start. Offering to be "just friends" seemed trite. This was real life, not a teenage rom-com.

Then there was the pesky detail of the hint of attraction I'd felt this morning as I watched Zach working with the kids. He'd been so good with them, demonstrating competence and leadership while also establishing a friendly rapport. And after hearing how he'd once again gone above and beyond for Sean, making sure he had clothes for camp and adopting the dog, I'd been unable to deny those faint flutters of attraction stirring in my blood. The feelings were rusty, like a voice that had gone scratchy from disuse, but I still recognized them for what they were.

All the more reason to walk away.

All the more reason I didn't want to.

Daisy was asleep in the passenger seat when I turned into Zach's neighborhood, and I was no closer to determining what I wanted to say. I pulled into the driveway, and with a sigh, I got out of the truck, walking around to the passenger side to get Daisy, who was now awake and doing a happy dance at the prospect of going on an adventure. I thought this dog might just be the happiest ball of sunshine I'd ever seen. Her name suited her.

We walked up to the door, but before I could ring the bell, a text message came through from Zach, telling me to walk around to the back. Daisy and I made our way around the side of the house, using the pavers to get down the hill to the patio where Zach was sitting with a beer in hand, hair still wet from either a shower or a swim.

Damn, he looked good. It was so rare that I paid much attention to someone's appearance, but that had always been different with Zach. As a high school athlete, he'd been fit, but these days, that tight, muscular build came with the maturity of a grown man. He still wore his hair a little longer on the top, but while he'd always been clean-shaven before, these days, he seemed to prefer having permanent scruff, the length just shy of being a full beard. I found myself wanting to kiss him so I could feel the scrape against my smooth skin.

Fuck . Thoughts like that weren't helping.

I bent and released Daisy from her leash, giving myself a moment to calm my erection—it had been a long time since that had been an issue for me—before taking a couple more steps onto the patio.

"How'd the afternoon camp go?"

"Great until the very end. You want a beer?"

He gestured toward the bucket filled with ice and long necks sitting on the edge of the unlit fire pit. I pulled an Infusion Vanilla Blonde from the bucket and took a seat while Daisy sniffed around the trees separating Zach's property from his neighbors.

"So what happened at the end?" I asked as I twisted off the top and took a sip.

He huffed out a frustrated breath. "You saw that the camp is coed? That I don't separate the kids by gender?"

At my nod, he continued, "Some asshole dad came up at the end of the day demanding I separate the girls and boys for the rest of the week or he would pull his kid from camp. Said he hadn't paid all that money just for his kid to play with girls."

"Who was it?"

"Last name was Jensen, I think? The kid has potential and seemed embarrassed by his father's behavior, which I totally relate to. I'd love for him to continue, but I'm not changing the structure of the camp, so it's ultimately up to his dad whether or not he continues."

I shook my head. "Chad Jensen is an entitled dick. He's the type of guy who'll leave a two-dollar tip on a forty-dollar bill and then brag about it. Colby, his kid, is going to be a senior and seems to be a decent sort. Stays out of trouble. I think he's going to be captain of the high school team next year, actually. You should definitely stick to your guns."

"Oh, I plan to. The other coaches like the format. A couple of them are with the high school program, so they already know quite a few of the kids and believe the players worked harder under this format. The girls had something to prove and the boys didn't want to look bad in front of the girls. And any kid who might be nonbinary or trans didn't have to feel any awkwardness about their identity. I figure it's the same set of skills anyway, so there's no reason they can't work out together. The only place the girls lagged was in some of the running drills, though not by much, and I bet some of them will outpace the boys by the end of the week."

"I wouldn't doubt it." I took another sip of my beer. "You're doing a really good thing here, Zach. I'm…I'm proud of you."

He'd gotten some color on his face while standing out in the sun all day, but that red deepened at my praise. Shit . That was just the kind of talk that would send mixed signals.

"Thanks, J. That means a lot. Even with the incident with that Jensen guy, it felt good to be coaching again. I haven't worked with kids since those camps I did the summer after senior year."

The mention of that summer made my stomach clench as thoughts of that time always did. In some ways, it had been the best summer of my life, made all the more tragic when he walked away just a few months later. That reminder brought back all those feelings of confusion I'd been having trying to get to the bottom of who Zach really was and why he'd left me hanging. And I couldn't figure any of that out until I let him in a little bit. But first, we had to talk about expectations.

I set my beer down and leaned forward in my chair, resting my forearms on my knees. "I wanted to talk to you…" I began.

"Shit. Okay. That sounds ominous."

"It's not meant to, but Drea brought something up this morning, and it's been weighing on my mind all day."

"Okay…"

"She suggested my presence at today's practice, combined with volunteering to take Daisy for the afternoon, might send you mixed signals. She thought I'd be getting your hopes up or something along those lines."

He relaxed, his features softening. "I appreciate my sister looking out for me, but you've made yourself pretty clear that you need some time to…process my return and all the baggage that comes with that. I'm under no illusions that you might forgive me or that there might ever be any sort of relationship between us, even a friendship, though you're too nice of a guy not to at least be polite when our paths cross."

I snorted. "Polite? I punched you in the face."

He grinned at me. "Eh. I had it coming."

He leaned forward in his chair, mirroring my posture while his expression turned serious. "Drea wasn't completely wrong though. I can admit to feeling a little hopeful when I saw you this morning."

I winced at that, knowing he was right.

"Don't stress. It's not all on you. I came back to Astaire with my hopes already up. I told myself not to. I told myself there was every chance you'd never want to speak to me again. But it was too late. From the moment I sent that text in the spring, asking if you would be at the reunion, I was already conjuring a thousand different scenarios for what would happen when we saw each other again. I gotta say, none of them had you punching me…"

"Ugh. I'm never going to live that down."

"No, you're really not. But what I was going to say was that for every scenario I created with a negative outcome, I had ten more that were positive. Maybe we could find our way back into a relationship again. Maybe we'd simply be friends. Either way was good because it meant I got to have you in my life again." He stood, moving so he was sitting in front of me on the brick edge of the fire pit. "I've missed you."

I hated how much those words hurt. I'd missed him too. I still missed him. Right now. In this moment, with him physically sitting right in front of me. I missed my friend. I missed the guy I'd only just started to fall in love with. I missed what could have been. The relationship we never really got to have. The joys and celebrations and fights and tears. The physical aspects we'd only begun to explore. I'd been robbed of that, and the person who'd stolen it from me was him .

But where thoughts like this would have fueled my anger a couple of weeks ago, tonight, I felt hollow. Bereft. Unbearably sad. And I had a burning desire to understand why .

"I missed you too. But the difference is that you could have done something about it. And you didn't. For nine years."

"I know," he said quietly, watching me with sad eyes.

"Because you couldn't."

He nodded.

"I still don't understand. And I'm not trying to be a dick. I'm not trying to start a fight. I'm not even angry anymore. Or at least not much. But it hurts, Zach. To hear you say you didn't call me for nine years because you just couldn't . It feels like there's something you're not telling me. Something that would explain what was stopping you."

He let out a breath, dropping his head so I couldn't see his eyes, his posture defeated. When he looked back up, it was with tears in his eyes. "I know it sounds lame. It felt lame. Like, why couldn't I just make a fucking phone call? There were days I wanted to throw my phone against the wall and smash it into a thousand pieces. It was like there was a door I wanted to open, but I didn't have the key. And the longer I stood at the door, the bigger, thicker, and more impenetrable it got until, eventually, it became evident I wouldn't ever be able to open it."

I watched as he tried to gather himself, seemingly trying to will the tears away. But I liked the tears. Not because I wanted him to hurt, but because, for the first time, I could see how much it had cost him, whatever this imaginary barrier was that had prevented him from calling me.

"Did you ever consider seeing a therapist?"

"For not being able to make a phone call? That just seems…I don't know. I feel like therapy is for people who have bigger issues."

"You don't think being unable to make a phone call to your boyfriend or your sister, people you were close to, is a sign of a bigger issue? Unless there's something else you're not telling me. Some other reason…"

"No," he was quick to say. "There wasn't any other reason. And I guess maybe you have a point. I just kept thinking if I gave it more time, I'd figure out how to push through it on my own."

"But you didn't." I spoke the words softly, not meaning it as an accusation, but unable to let the point go just the same.

He stood, taking a couple of steps away and running his hand through his hair. I could tell he was getting frustrated, but I didn't think his frustration lay with me or my line of questioning. I thought it was some internal struggle he was having.

"I'm trying to understand, Zach. But I can't do that if I don't have all the pieces of the puzzle. I need you to explain it to me."

He turned back and looked at me. "After I left…after it had been weeks and then months without contact, I started to accept that I wouldn't ever be able to reach out. I spent the summer in Washington with Clayton. Pissed off my father and upset Drea that I didn't come home. Piled on more guilt. But I couldn't risk seeing you. It was the oddest feeling…needing you so bad it hurt to breathe and being equally as terrified that once I did, I'd have to explain something there wasn't a logical explanation for."

He began to pace. "I think I slid into some sort of depression. The self-loathing made it hard to get out of bed. I withdrew, barely speaking to any of Clayton's family, even though they'd generously allowed me to stay with them. The only thing that got me through was Clayton's persistence that I go outside and do things with him. We hiked and fished and did all sorts of outdoorsy shit. For a guy who seems so derpy on the surface, there's a lot more to him than most people realize. He clearly knew something was going on with me, but he never pressured me to talk about it, and by the end of summer, I could almost pretend everything was okay. I convinced myself that with enough time passing, you'd get over it. Drea and my father would get used to not having me around. Plenty of families have adult children who rarely come home to visit. Everyone would adjust until this became the new norm."

"Zach…that sounds…lonely."

"It was. But that was how I wanted it. With what I had done to you and the way I'd distanced myself from my family, I no longer felt like I deserved to have any of you in my life. The harm I'd done felt irreparable."

God, the picture he painted was almost…tragic. For the first time since he'd come back to Astaire, I was able to set aside my own anger and hurt and see just how difficult that time had been for him. I was glad he'd had Clayton, but if what he was saying was true, he'd needed professional help. He likely still did.

He stopped pacing on the far side of the patio and stood with his back to me, looking out at the lake. Daisy, who'd been lying on the corner of the patio, gave a little whine before trotting over to where Zach was standing and licked his hand.

My heart ached for the nineteen-year-old boy who, for reasons I wasn't sure either of us understood, hadn't been able to reach out and then had punished himself for it. I ached with the need to go to him. To wrap my arms around him and be his refuge. To tell him everything was okay.

But it wasn't okay. At least, not yet.

"Do you still think it's irreparable?"

He turned back to face me. "I don't know. I'm still working through things with my family. Drea says she's forgiven me, but I suspect she still holds some resentment. And things with my father are about as good as can be expected. The animosity from my youth is gone, but I don't know if we'll ever be super close. We're just different people. Or maybe we're too much alike. I don't know."

"And with me?"

He walked back over and sat on the edge of the fire pit in front of me again. Daisy followed and lay at his feet, keeping a close eye. "I think that's up to you. I'm being as open and honest as I can be. And you can continue to ask me questions if you need to. I'll answer all of them. I owe you that. But the ultimate answer of whether the damage I did is irreparable is up to you."

"Why now? If it was so difficult for you to reach out nine years ago, how were you able to do it now?"

"As I was debating what I wanted to do after retirement and had the idea of opening a soccer club, I kept coming back to the thought of doing it in Astaire. But that meant I would have to reach out to you or, at the very least, be prepared for us to cross paths. And when I really thought about it, I wasn't scared anymore. Whatever block I'd had before was gone. I was nervous for sure, but I realized I didn't want to live the rest of my life without trying to explain what had happened. If I came back here and you wanted nothing to do with me, I'd figure out how to live with that. But what if I could make things right, and there was a chance I could have you in my life again?"

"What would that look like? Me in your life again? What are you hoping for?"

"I'll take whatever you're willing to give me."

"That's not what I asked. Disregard what you think I might or might not be willing to give. What do you want?" My heart beat faster as I waited for his answer.

He blew out a breath. "I want to try again. A relationship. Maybe we're too different now and it would never work, but I want to try."

"That's a big leap."

"You wanted the truth."

"I'm scared," I whispered.

"Me too."

"I thought about this all the way over here. About what I wanted to say to you. What I wanted moving forward."

"And…"

"I think the only way out is through. I don't know if a relationship is something I'm willing to contemplate just yet, but I do think the only way to understand what happened and to move past it is to continue getting to know you again. To keep having these conversations."

"So what are you suggesting?"

"Let's start with this. You still run every day?"

He dropped his arms, his expression lightening. "I do. But with camp this week, I have to go early as fuck."

"How early?"

"Five forty-five."

"You up for a run with me? Thursday?"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Just a run. No more, no less."

He nodded. "Understood. Thank you."

I stood, and he did the same. "You don't have to thank me. But I'm going to head out. I'm on shift for the next two days and need to get some things done around the house this evening."

"Alright. Thanks again for watching Daisy this afternoon."

At her name, she perked up, excitedly looking between us. I leaned over and gave her a scratch behind the ears. "It wasn't a problem. She's a sweetheart. I'll see you Thursday."