9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Jake

I sat in stunned silence as I watched Max flee my house, my gut churning with a mix of emotions. Uncertainty and regret warred inside of me as I tried to clear my head and make it all make sense. He'd kissed me, I'd kissed him back, and I'd liked it. I'd liked it a lot . In the days we'd been working together, I'd recognized my growing attraction to Max, but I'd never expected to act on it. I didn't know what had possessed me—I'd seen his hand resting there, listening to him get choked up over the letters, and my body had just… reacted . I'd reached out to comfort him, but the moment we'd touched, I knew I wanted more.

What would happen if I let him in? I'd have to come out, to accept that people might reject or judge me. My friends… they'd accept it, I was sure of that. My boss wouldn't care. He'd been openly gay for a long time and he was married to a bisexual man. But knowing all that and accepting my own attraction to Max meant not only coming out, but losing a sense of privacy. I was happy with my image as the reclusive, grumpy construction worker. Did I want to change that?

I shook my head. I was getting ahead of things and I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself. Who was to say that Max would be interested enough in me to make coming out a thing? Besides, a voice whispered in my mind. Aren't you tired of being alone? And that was the core of it. I was tired of being alone.

In an attempt to clear my mind, I grabbed my phone and opened my texting app. I stared at my messages with Axton for a long time, an internal debate raging over whether to reach out or just wallow and be alone. Nothing productive would come of wallowing, so I braced myself and typed out my request.

Jake: You busy?

Axton: Nah, what's up?

Jake: Can I come hang?

Axton: Of course. Come on over.

With a sigh, I clicked my phone screen off and tucked the damn thing in my pocket. The messages weren't terribly out of the ordinary, but I didn't often drop by Axton's house alone. Despite the fact that he was my best friend, we rarely hung out alone these days. I needed to get out of my reclusive rut. I also wanted to soft-launch this not-straight thing, and I had a feeling he'd be the most easygoing about it.

A little while later, I was in jeans and a T-shirt and pulling my truck into Axton's driveway. I took a few deep breaths before getting out of the truck and making my way up the sidewalk. I knew what I wanted to do—but could I find the courage to do it?

Axton was once again tinkering with his Mustang when I walked up. "Took you long enough," he called from under the hood. He emerged from the car and closed the hood. "Now, what's going on?"

Deflect, my brain said. "What makes you think something's going on?"

He chuckled and shook his head. "I've been your best friend for twenty years."

With a shrug meant to be casual that probably looked forced, I pointed at the pool table. "Just came to hang. Let's shoot."

He grinned and lifted his chin. "You're on."

A few minutes later, we each had a can of beer and Axton was racking the balls. "How's the job going?"

Panic hit me. "Fine. It's fine. Moving along just fine." I couldn't possibly tell him what had happened between me and Max, considering I didn't know what I was thinking about it yet myself.

He looked up at me and smirked. "So it's… fine?"

I let out a breath and laughed weakly. "You could say that."

"What's it like dancing around a film crew all fucking day?"

My face heated as the idea of dancing with Max flew into my mind, uninvited. The idea of us with our bodies pressed together made my breath catch in my chest. "It's—"

"I swear to God if you say fine. "

I laughed and felt the tension unravel a bit. "I was going to say it's not bad, really." I hesitated, the words on the tip of my tongue, but when I spoke, my brain redirected the conversation. "How's work here?"

He took a shot and sank the ball he was aiming at, a solid. "Hell yeah," he muttered before lining up his next shot. "Good. Can't complain. I stay busy. It actually looks like I might need to hire another mechanic sometime soon."

"That's a good sign."

"It is," he said, taking—and missing—his next shot. He swore under his breath and looked at me. "You're up."

I stepped up to line up a shot, sinking a striped ball in a corner pocket easily. "How's the girlfriend? Amanda, right?" Axton's partners rarely lasted long enough for me to remember their names, but Amanda had been around for a few months.

He scoffed. "We ended things a while ago."

"Yeah?" I sank my next shot as I asked. "Flying solo then?"

"Not really. His name is Trent."

I slipped and missed my next shot by a mile. When I spoke, it was slowly, hesitantly. "Trent?" I'd known Axton to date people of many genders, but in the past few years, he'd stuck with female-identifying partners.

"It's not a problem, is it?"

I shook my head. "No. It's just, you know, I didn't know."

He shrugged. "I'm pan. I like people, not what's in their pants."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. Makes sense."

"But you knew that about me. We've been best friends for twenty years. You've seen me date lots of different genders."

"I know. I just… You've really only dated women for the past while. I wasn't sure you were still, I don't know, flexible."

"Pansexual. You can say it, you know. You're not going to turn gay just from acknowledging that different sexualities exist."

Tell him . We'd never discussed anything about our sexualities and my brain was screaming at me to just tell him already. I knew I was scared for no rational reason. Say it. This is your chance.

"What about you?" He looked at me pointedly. "Seeing anyone lately? Or are you still living the recluse life?"

"I think I might be gay," I blurted. The words tumbled out of me before I could stop them.

Axton grinned, smoothly shot at a ball, and then knocked his pool cue on the concrete floor. "Cool. So you are seeing someone?"

I shook my head. "No, definitely not."

"Then what brought on this revelation?"

Evading the real answer, I sighed. "I don't know. I guess I've just… noticed people lately."

"Male people." He said it like it was a fact, not a question.

"Yeah. Male people."

A smirk slid on his face. "Guess that film crew isn't as in the way as you thought they would be."

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. "I guess not."

"Well, I hope you know this doesn't change anything. You were the only one in our friend group who was straight-presenting anyway."

A shaky sigh escaped me. "Can we keep this just between us though, for now?"

"Of course, buddy. Now, take your damned shot already."

I smiled widely and did just that. It felt good to know that I wouldn't be alone in my thoughts anymore. If I could just figure out what to do about Max. I'd liked the kiss—a lot—but I didn't know what that meant for our work together. I believed I could be professional and I was sure Max would do the same. Or, at least, I hoped we'd be able to get through the coming weeks without making things more complicated.