Chapter Nineteen

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Corbin

Icouldn’t stop obsessing about Christmas at Spencer’s…how different it was from spending time with my own family. They didn’t make Spencer feel guilty about things he had no reason to feel guilty for. They didn’t just say they loved him, they showed how much they loved him by completely accepting him the way he was.

And they had extended that to me. It was so damn refreshing and made me realize how unlike myself I was around my family. I had to stifle who I was, tone myself down, because I was scared if I didn’t, they would stop loving me.

It was a lot to unpack, and a few days after New Year’s, while at work, I was still trying to sort through all my fucked-up shit.

“The flexibility and mobility in your shoulder have increased a lot, even since last week,” I told my patient as we worked through some exercises.

“Thank you. And I hardly feel any pain. I’ve worked with three PTs, and you’re by far the best. I feel like you listen and take the time to come up with creative solutions.”

Well, that was good to hear. “That’s what I’m here for. I feel so lucky that I get to do this. The human body really is incredible.”

“I agree,” she said. “For me it’s emotional stuff. I’m a therapist.”

Therapist, therapist, therapist.For whatever reason, the word echoed through my head. Okay, so I knew the reason. Spencer thought I should talk to someone, and he wasn’t the first one to say that. The Beach Bums had been telling me the same for years, and no matter how much I denied it, deep down I always knew it was true. And ever since all the stuff with Spencer had started going down, I’d been thinking about it more. I was seeing things I’d never allowed myself to see, like how my family treated me…

“Do you like it? What you do?” I found myself asking.

“Yes. It’s incredibly fulfilling. Not a day goes by that I don’t feel blessed that I’m able to support people the way I do.”

I nodded, done with the questions, but all fucking day I kept thinking about her, Spencer, family, social media, and all sorts of shit. It wasn’t fun. I missed pretending everything was fine all the time. Honestly, that was a whole lot easier than what I was doing now.

It was still on my mind when I walked out of work at the end of the day, which was why I almost missed Gael sitting on the sidewalk, leaning against the building. He had his eyes closed, and even the set of his small body seemed heavy.

“Hey, you…is everything okay?” I asked, casting a shadow on him.

He looked up at me. “Of course,” he snapped. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Yikes. So not okay. Is there anything I can help with?” I didn’t know how Gael knew where I worked. Maybe I’d mentioned it at some point or maybe Spencer had? Or hell, maybe he’d asked Spencer, but if he had, I knew my CB would have texted me to let me know he was coming.

“That’s not what I said.”

“But it’s what you meant. I read denial because I speak it.”

Something in his gaze changed, his eyes going soft. He nodded toward the book in my hand. “You’re still reading it.”

“Yeah, I’m loving it. I read on my lunchbreak. I would have finished it earlier, but the holidays set me back some.”

He sat there, looking up at me, me down at him. His eyes seemed to say ask me, and I wondered if mine ever did that. If so, I thought it would be when I was looking at Spencer…and he would always ask.

“Are you hungry?”

“I could eat something sweet,” Gael said.

“I know the perfect place. Let’s go.”

Parker owned a bakery that wasn’t far from my work—close enough that we could walk. I held my hand out for Gael, who took it and let me tug him to his feet, before I let go. I was nervous as shit. I had never done this before, helped a kid, but I thought Gael needed it, even if it was only to talk, and he’d chosen to come to me. I wouldn’t let myself mess this up.

We headed to Beach Buns. Gael gave a small smile when he saw the sign. “I’ve never actually been here before. He named it for your group, right?”

“Yeah, we call ourselves the Beach Bums, though I have to admit, I’m nervous over the fact that you listen to our podcast.”

“I’m eighteen,” Gael argued again.

“Yeah, but probably only for like five minutes, and that’s still young. We talk about…stuff.”

Gael laughed. “Why do I actually feel older than you? You can’t even say the word.”

I could definitely say the word sex, I just wasn’t saying it to him. “Let’s go stock up on treats.”

I held the door open for him, and he went inside.

“Hey, Corbin!” Laurie, one of the girls behind the counter, greeted me. “Parker’s not in right now.”

“That’s okay. We just came to get some stuff.” I turned to Gael. “Pick whatever you want.”

“That might be a mistake on your part. I might be small, but I can eat.” He flinched, like he hadn’t meant to say what he had. The part about being small, or about eating?

“Whatever you want,” I confirmed.

He got a cinnamon roll, three cookies, and a drink, before turning to me. “Don’t you want anything?”

“Just a water,” I said.

Gael tried to give me some money to help pay, but I didn’t let him.

We took our haul to one of the tables outside. It was slightly chilly, especially the air coming off the ocean, but it wasn’t too bad. There was more privacy than staying inside.

“So…”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he cut me off.

“Okay, I understand that. I don’t want to push you. There’s a lot I don’t talk about either.” But I wished Gael would tell me what he was going through, open up to me and let me help, the same way people like Spencer or the Beach Bums wanted me to open up to them…the same way they thought they could help me. Why was it that I simultaneously thought I could help Gael but that my best friends couldn’t help me?

Gael was quiet for a moment. He picked a piece off his cinnamon roll and ate it. “Like what?” he asked softly. “You’re hot, you have a million friends, a successful career, a podcast, a boyfriend, and even if you didn’t have Spencer, every queer guy in the world likely wants you. I bet you’ve never been teased a day in your life.”

“That’s not true.” I tried to ignore the thudding in my ears. “I had a terrible time growing up.” I took a deep breath, trying to slow down my heart. I could do this. I needed to do this, to share with Gael, because how could I expect him to open up to me if I didn’t open up to him? “I told you before that I didn’t have a lot of friends when I was young. The only people I had were Parker, Declan, and Marcus. I was teased daily—for my weight because I was bigger then, for my skin because I had acne, for my looks in general. Boys played tricks on me, pretending they liked me, only to then make fun of me. I had mean notes stuffed in my locker and shit written about me on the bathroom walls. It was torture…so no, my life wasn’t always like it is now, but it did get better.” I still had a long way to go, though, didn’t I?

Gael took another bite and ate it, watching his plate as he spoke. “That explains Spencer’s comment in the library that one time about you always being beautiful and people hurting others. I don’t have any friends…not one. They make fun of me because I’m so small…so skinny and short…because I wear glasses and like to read. Even at the center I don’t fit in except with you and Spencer. I go to a school for the arts, and I still get bullied. That tells you how big of a loser I am.”

“No,” I rushed out. “It doesn’t. There’s nothing wrong with you. Fuck them. They’re the ones with the issue. They’re the ones with the problem.”

“Why doesn’t it feel that way, then?” Gael asked, and damned if my eyes didn’t begin to sting.

Why didn’t it feel that way? Life would be a whole lot easier if it did.

“Because we’re human and we’re so fucking hard on ourselves.” I was hard on myself, wasn’t I? The way I worked out and ate, trying to be perfect. The photos I posted and then the way I scrutinized every extra bit of skin, or the way I stood and how it made my muscles look smaller or my body look bigger. The way I thought Spencer’s body was perfect and sexy but hated myself if I put on a pound. “It seems there’s two ways to be—really fucking hard on others, or really fucking hard on ourselves. People like you and me…we choose ourselves.”

Finally, he looked up at me. “But you’re better now. How did you do it? How did you get past it? I hate myself, and I hate everyone else. I’m so sad and angry all the time. I pretend I’m okay, but I’m not.”

Gael’s words nearly stole my breath. He could have been talking about me just as easily as he was himself. I pretended I was okay…but I wasn’t. I hadn’t dealt with my past. I had major self-esteem, self-worth, food, and body image issues. I told myself it was just disordered eating, as if that wasn’t bad enough, but maybe it was more. “We have that in common too.”

Gael frowned.

“I love cookies.” I pointed to the one on his plate with chocolate chunks. “That’s my favorite, but it would have to be a special occasion for me to allow myself to eat it. And I’d feel bad about myself the entire time. I would double my workout routine because I ate a cookie. I spend most of the time trying to pretend I’m fine and that it’s not as bad as it is, but I obsess about social media and what people think of me. I’m so afraid of being the boy I used to be, but…but maybe there wasn’t anything wrong with him.” Maybe it was time I let myself see that.

I swiped at my eye when a tear leaked free.

“Sorry, Gael, I was supposed to be helping you, and I’m talking about my own shit.”

He shook his head quickly, making his glasses go crooked. “Don’t apologize. What you just did…you talked to me like I’m your equal, like we’re the same. I never would have thought someone like you would be dealing with all that. It helps me to feel less alone.”

That’s what most of us wanted out of life, right? Not to feel alone. I’d felt alone before the Beach Bums. Sometimes I felt alone now that they all had someone to love…but then, I had Spencer now, and I didn’t feel alone with him. I felt like…more…more than I’d ever thought I could be or feel or have.

“You don’t want to hurt yourself, do you?” I asked softly.

“No. I don’t. I wouldn’t. And my mom is great. I could never do that to her.”

“That’s good. Have you told her how bad it’s getting?”

He shrugged. “Some of it. She wants me to see a therapist, but that feels so fucking dumb. Like, how in the hell is that going to help? Just talking to a stranger.”

“You won’t know unless you try.”

“Do you see a therapist?” Gael asked.

The question was so simple, so innocent, but it nearly knocked me off my seat. I didn’t know what it was about hearing Gael ask that, but it made everything click into place inside me. Wanting him to get better made me realize it was time for me to deal with my struggles too.

“I don’t. I’ve been spending most of my life fighting it, and it hasn’t gotten me anywhere. I think…I think maybe it’s time for that to change. Maybe it’s something we can do together? Not together-together, obviously, but maybe it’s something we can both try. I don’t want you to get to my age and still be dealing with the traumas of your past.”

He stared at me for a moment, his brown eyes taking me in. The silence stretched between us, making my nerves kick into high gear. Maybe he was going to say no. Maybe he wasn’t ready. Maybe I was pushing too hard and—

“Okay,” Gael replied, and I breathed out.

“Okay.” I stood then, and walked over and hugged him.

We sat there talking afterward, and I even ate part of one of his cookies. When Gael said he needed to take the bus back to LA to go home, I offered to give him a ride. I told him I could help him talk to his mom if he wanted, and Gael agreed.

It was nearly nine in the evening when I left their house, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever been hugged as tightly as I had been by Gael’s mom as she’d whispered a soft thank-you. It was the most amazing thing I’d ever felt.

I didn’t know what it was about me that made Gael open up, willing to get help… Maybe I really was The Charmer after all.

I texted Spencer when I was on my way home. I’d told him something had come up, that I would tell him about it later. He was likely worried, but I hadn’t wanted to get into too much detail when I was still with Gael.

Spencer was sitting on the couch, wearing… “Oh my God!” I said, taking in his shirt. He smiled, which made my heart beat faster and expand in ways I never would have thought possible.

I walked right over to him as he stood and opened his arms.

“Chubby Boys Cuddle Better,” I read. “I like it. How come you’ve never worn it before?”

“I ordered it special.” He winked, and I went straight into his arms.

“It’s true, though for me, I think it has something to do with it being you. Spencer cuddles better.”

“I like that, baby.” He kissed the top of my head, then tugged me down to the couch with him. He lay down and pulled me on top of him, arms around me. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is…better. I was with Gael. He was waiting for me outside my work. I took him to Beach Buns, and we talked. He’s having a hard time. I talked to him about therapy, and he agreed to start. We even went and talked to his mom about it.”

Spencer cocked a brow. “No shit?”

“No shit.”

“Jesus, that is…thank you.” He cupped my cheek. “You’re so fucking amazing. So good. Such a huge fucking heart. I don’t even have the words to describe how incredible you are.”

“You can keep trying later,” I teased. “There’s more.” Worry creased Spencer’s brow, and he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to my lips.

“Go on.”

“Talking to him made me realize what I need to do for myself, helped me see that I can’t keep going this way. And how can I expect Gael to get help at eighteen if I won’t at my age?”

His face completely transformed, taken over by that knockout smile of his I liked so much, his green eyes so bright and happy, but also, strangely unreadable.

“Are you kidding me?” he asked.

“No. I thought maybe you’d want to help me? Find someone and—oh shit!” I said when Spencer sat up, then stood with me still in his arms. I wasn’t a small guy. I had muscles I was proud of, damn it! But he held me and basically bounced with me in his big, beefy arms like I’d just made him the happiness man in the world.

How could hearing what I’d said make him that happy? How could he care that much?

“Put. Me. Down,” I said as he was still shaking me and squeezing me just a little too tightly.

“Shit. Sorry. I’m just so proud of you.” He set me on my feet, held my face in his hands, and pressed a loud kiss to my lips. “I love you so fucking much,” he said—and we both stilled.

Wait. Had I just heard what I thought I heard?

“Did you…”

“I did…wow…it just came out.”

My heart dropped because…holy fuck, I wanted Spencer to love me. “Oh. It’s okay if it was a heat-of-the-moment thing. Though I thought those happened during sex. But I won’t hold you to it if you don’t mean it.”

“I do, Corb. I think I really do.”

“Yeah?” I asked, cheesy-smiling because Spencer loved me, and Gael trusted me, and I had the best friends in the world. Sure, I hadn’t talked to my family since Christmas Eve, and my mom had only called twice, both times leaving messages where she made excuses and put the blame on Spencer. But everything else was going so fucking well.

“Yes. You’re…fuck, Corbin. You’ve charmed me. I’m fucking crazy about you.”

“I’m crazy about you too. I love you too. That’s a lot of toos, but I don’t even care.”

And clearly, Spencer didn’t either because instead of responding, his mouth slammed down on mine, and it was the perfect response.