Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

CARTER

The tension that fills the air around me and my best friend as we eat our pizza is stifling, and I hate it.

I should have known trying to keep anything from him wouldn't work out for me. Brendon has always been able to see right through me like I'm made of glass or something. If I ever try to lie to him or hold back parts of the truth, he sniffs it out like a bloodhound on a hunt. Not that I've made a habit of lying to him or anyone else, really. I'm a shit liar. I don't even want to be withholding the information I currently am, but I wasn't lying when I told him I don't know how to tell him this secret.

How do you tell someone who has known you almost your whole life that you're not as straight as you once thought?

Over the summer, I met someone who helped me explore myself in ways I never knew I wanted, and it was literally life changing. I went from believing I was straight to fully embracing my bisexuality over the course of a couple of months.

I've always appreciated the physical appearance of both men and women. I wasn't afraid to say when I thought anyone was hot, and I've told plenty of my guy friends before just how sexy they are, never thinking twice about it. I thought everyone was like that. Maybe that's because I only had experience with straight relationships growing up, so I just automatically thought I was straight, too. I obviously wasn't gay because I loved being with women, but I never realized I was bisexual, either. That all changed this summer.

A memory knocks at the door of my subconsciousness, and I allow it to take me back to Florida.

The air is hot and sticky as Mom and I pull up to Grandma's house and Mom takes in a shaky breath as she stares at the little home. The flower boxes that hang beneath the windows are overgrown with weeds, and what used to be white siding now has a yellow tinge to it. Grandma hadn't been well for a while, and it's obvious that she didn't have anyone looking after the place.

I used to come here when I was younger. Grandma would always be waiting for us on the front porch in her rocking chair, with a giant grin and a plate of her famous chocolate chip cookies. Now, there's no one there, and the worn old chair looks as sad as I feel at this moment.

"Come on, we probably need to open the windows and air out the place so it isn't musty when we try to sleep tonight," Mom tells me. I nod before following her up the steps of the front porch, not worrying about our luggage at the moment.

It doesn't take us long to open the windows, and while Mom makes the beds, I get busy hauling in our stuff.

"You must be Ella's grandson," a man with dirty blond hair and a bright smile who looks to be around my age says as I'm pulling my suitcase out of the back of Mom's car.

I pause, set down my luggage, and nod. "I am. Did you know my grandma?" I check.

"I did. I've lived next door for the past three years and she kind of took me in under her wing. She was the nicest lady I've ever met," he tells me, making my heart ache for my grandma even more.

"She was great. I wish I could have spent more time with her. It sucks that we lived so far away, and I only got a few summers and holidays here and there with her."

"Who's this?" Mom asks, coming out of the house to help me.

"I'm Henley," the man says, sticking his hand out to shake hers. "I am a neighbor and was a friend of your mom's. She was a wonderful woman, and if I can help you guys out with anything, please let me know."

Mom beams at him and nods. "I appreciate the offer. For now, I think we're okay, but I will let you know if there is anything we need."

He dips his chin then takes a step back. "I'm usually around, so just come knock on my door," he tells me before heading back to his place.

"Mom never told me she had such a nice young man living next door," Mom says, grabbing one of her suitcases and heading inside.

"I think she did mention a neighbor who was helping her with yard work," I reply, and mom nods.

"Now that you mention it, she did say something, I just wasn't expecting that person to be your age."

I shrug and follow her in with two suitcases in tow.

The first week at Grandma's house is heavy with emotions. Going through all of her things has been stirring emotions inside of me that I wasn't expecting. By the time Friday hits, I'm beyond exhausted. Of course, my mom notices and tells me that I need to get out and have some fun. Apparently going to the gym to workout or the basketball court to practice isn't good enough. The last thing I want to do is go out to a bar by myself, but Mom thought of that too and asked Henley to take me out. I'd really rather not hang out with a stranger, but when Mom has something in her head, she sticks to her guns and refuses to relent.

Which is how I find myself getting into Henley's car on Friday night.

He's been over a couple of times throughout the week to check on us and I've learned a few things about him, but it's all surface level stuff like how he's an entrepreneur and runs his own business. It doesn't change the fact that he's still very much a stranger.

"You don't have to do this," I tell Henley after I've shut the passenger door of his car and close off my mother's ability to eavesdrop.

"I know I don't have to, but I want to," he assures me, flashing a wide, toothy grin my way. "Now, how exactly do you want to spend your evening?"

I shrug, casting my gaze downward taking in how clean this car is. There are no wrappers, discarded to go cups, or garbage like there normally is in my car. In fact, there's nothing at my feet at all, except the plastic liner that protects the carpet. I've never met anyone my age who is this tidy before.

"Do you like beer?" he checks, and I lift my shoulders again. Even though I actually hate beer, I can't bring myself to tell him that.

The small space is filled with my awkward energy, and I kick myself internally. Why do I have to be so odd around new people? Why can't I just let go and be myself?

"Do you like onion rings?" he inquires next, clearly refusing to stop his questions until I've given him something to go off of.

"I guess so," I reply quietly. "I mean, if you've tried one, you've tried them all, but I wouldn't say I hate them."

I glance at him quickly and notice how his whole face is lit up. His smile is almost too large for his face at the moment, but it doesn't take away from his handsomeness.

"I know of the perfect place to take you," he declares, finally putting his car into drive and taking off in what I assume is the direction of our destination.

I stay silent as Henley drives, looking out the window and taking in the beauty of Florida.

"You sure are a quiet guy," Henley notes out loud.

"I'm sorry," I murmur. "I get awkward around new people."

"Does alcohol help calm your nerves?" he asks, causing my lips to turn upward the smallest amount.

"It's been known to help on occasion," I reply, looking at him this time with a slight grin on my face.

Henley lets out a loud laugh, filling the space with his joy. This laughter helps ease some of my nervousness, which I'm grateful for.

"Well, good thing there isn't a shortage of booze where I'm taking you."

"Are you planning on getting me drunk just so I talk a little bit more?" I ask him with a teasing tone.

"Will it work?" he counters.

I shrug. "We'll just have to see, won't we?"

"I guess we will," Henley replies with a bright smile.

The rest of the drive is quiet but not as awkward as it had been when I first got in the car, and before I know it, we're parked in front of a rundown building.

I pull my brows together as I take in what's in front of me. The walls of the building are faded and chipped, probably not seeing any love or attention in many years. A neon sign hangs in a window that once upon a time spelt out beer in bright letters but half of them are burnt out now, leaving only the B and the second E to glow. I'm assuming this place is a bar, but it looks like a dump. Why did Henley bring me here?

"I know it looks like a shit hole, but I promise it's much better on the inside," Henley tells me, clearly having noticed my confusion.

I highly doubt that the inside could be that much better, but I decide to go inside with him anyway. If it turns out that Henley's lying, I can always turn right back around and order a rideshare back home.

Cautiously, I open the passenger door and follow Henley into the bar, which looks nothing like what I thought it would from the outside.

In my head I was picturing torn upholstery, dirty floors, and an odor that would make my nose wrinkle, but I'm pleasantly surprised not to find that at all. Instead, the place is cozy, inviting, and clean. The hardwood flooring barely has a speck of dirt on it, and the large bar that sits just to the left of the front door is spotless, apart from the few drinks that are sitting on top of it. Edison lights hang from the ceiling giving the space a warm glow and makes me want to find a place to sit and just take in the atmosphere.

"Told you it was better on the inside," Henley whispers with a smirk.

"And I one hundred percent doubted you," I reply, flashing my own grin at him. My words make him laugh and, thankfully, don't offend him.

"I could tell, but don't worry; you didn't hurt my feelings this time," he teases with a wink, then points his chin toward the booths that line the far wall. Why don't you get us a spot, and I'll order us some drinks?"

"How do you know I'll like what you order?" I question with a tilt of my head.

"I've been known to read people pretty well, but if you hate what I bring back, I'll get you something else," he assures me.

I don't see a point in arguing, so I make my way to an empty booth and sit down before looking around again.

The place is quiet, with only a few tables of patrons. It's possible that it's only like this because of how early in the evening it is. Or maybe people judge the outside like I did and don't give this place a shot. I'm busy studying two men who look to be in their sixties and are arguing over something, when Henley slides into the booth across from me. I give Henley a small smile but quickly cast my gaze back to the men, wishing I could make out exactly what they are bickering over. Even though they seem to be deep in debate they are both smiling, like they don't care that the other one disagrees with them. I don't think I've ever seen people argue so politely before. I mean, besides me and my best friend. We bicker all the time but never cross the line of taking things too far. Maybe these guys are best friends, too.

"That's Harold and Arnie," Henley supplies. I realize how rude I'm being and finally give him my full attention like he deserves. "They've been together for forty years. They fight constantly but love just as hard."

Okay, so obviously, those two aren't just friends. Now I feel a little weird mentally comparing them to Brendon and me.

"It looks like they enjoy arguing," I tell him, trying not to show my feelings.

He nods with a giant grin. "I think it's like a weird kind of foreplay for them. For as long as I've known them, they've been like that. But it's only little shit they disagree on. When it comes to the big matters of life, they are on the same page."

"I suppose that's good. And forty years is a long time to be together. It makes sense that they are going to argue from time to time, and if it adds a bit of a spark to their relationship, I don't see the harm in it."

Henley chuckles. "That's exactly how I see it. To be honest I'd count myself lucky if I found a partner that loved me as much as those two love each other."

I take note of how he said partner, and not boyfriend or girlfriend.

"So, you're a romantic?" I check while reaching for my drink, fighting the urge to wrinkle my nose when I see that it's beer.

I've never been a big beer guy, but I don't want to be rude, so I take a small sip. My brows immediately shoot up when a hint of fruitiness coats my tongue. I was for sure not expecting this to taste good. Maybe that's because I've only ever drank cheap beer at house parties that tasted like piss.

"It's good, isn't it?" Henley questions with a raised brow and a knowing smirk on his lips.

I shrug, trying to play it cool. "It's okay," I respond, making Henley throw his head back, laughing.

"You're a shit liar," he tells me, taking a sip of his own beer.

"Am not," I disagree, fake glaring at him, which only results in him laughing harder.

His laugh causes flutters to erupt in my stomach, completely catching me off guard. I've never had this feeling for a man before.

"Dude, do you not realize you wear your emotions on your face? You are so easy to read."

I huff out a breath but don't argue with him because others have told me that a few times. Sometimes, I hate being so transparent, but I also don't have the energy to change myself. It's not like it's a negative quality.

"Don't worry, it's cute," he assures me with a wink.

My face heats from the compliment, and I take another swig of my beer, hoping it will cool me off.

I should probably tell Henley I'm straight since I'm pretty sure he's flirting with me, but for some reason, I can't bring myself to say the words. And if I'm being honest with myself, the attention is nice, I just don't want to lead him on.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Henley checks, and I shake my head.

"No, but I should probably tell you I'm straight," I reply.

Henley doesn't seem taken aback by my response, but he tilts his head to the side, like he's studying me. "Does that mean you want me to stop flirting with you?"

I nibble on my lower lip, trying to come up with an answer. Do I want him to stop? I don't think I do. From the way my stomach is fluttering, I clearly have some sort of feelings for him, and I am really enjoying our time together. I definitely don't want the night to end. Maybe I should test the waters and see what it feels like to allow him to flirt with me.

I take a deep breath and slowly shake my head again.

Henley's smile grows in a devilish way. "Sounds good to me," he responds, his voice dipping an octave causing shivers to run up my spine. He never takes his eyes off me, not even when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. My eyes zero in on the action, making my new friend chuckle.

Tonight is definitely turning out to be something I wasn't expecting, but I can't say I hate it either.

The evening is filled with laughter, light conversations, mouth watering food, a decent buzz from the beers, and a sexual tension you could cut with a knife, like when Henley got foam from his beer on his lips and licked it so slowly while holding eye contact with me. The hint of desire is so evident in his baby blues. Or when we kept brushing our fingers together whenever we reached for something on the table. The light touches ignite sparks inside me and have me sporting a half chub most of the night. I have never felt something like this before with a man, but it doesn't feel wrong.

"You've never seen Labyrinth?" Henley gasps after finding out I've never watched his favorite movie.

I chuckle at his look of pure shock. "It came out before I was born."

"Same, but that didn't stop me from watching it. It's a cult classic, and I'm completely appalled that you haven't seen it. I'm pretty sure watching David Bowie in those tight pants is what brought on my bi-awakening. Of course, I didn't try anything with a guy until much later, but I'd confidently say that David Bowie was my first guy crush."

"Finding guys attractive doesn't make you bi," I counter.

Henley stares at me intently for a moment before responding. "Do you find guys attractive?" he checks with a quirked brow.

I shrug. "Doesn't everyone? I mean, a hot person is a hot person. Recognizing that doesn't instantly make you bi."

Does it?

"Okay, putting that conversation to the side, I still say it's a travesty that you haven't seen Labyrinth, and I think we need to rectify that as soon as possible," he states with a firm dip of his chin.

"Do you have an idea in mind to solve this dilemma?" I check, cocking my head to the side a little.

I hope he invites me over to his place because I don't want this night to end. And I'm curious to see how this will go.

Have I ever felt like this when hanging out with my other guy friends? Surely if I was actually bi I would have felt a pull toward other guys before. But maybe I didn't because no one ever came on to me before. Well, besides my dance coach but that always felt more like a joke than him actually wanting me. And I really thought I was straight, so what if I misread things thinking everyone felt like that?

Fuck my head is a mess right now.

"I was thinking you could come back to my place and watch it with me. I feel like it's my duty to show you what you've been missing," Henley says, pulling me from my thoughts.

The way he's looking at me right now, with a lusty gaze and a sexy smirk on his lips, makes me wonder if his words have a double meaning.

My heart races and my cock starts to stir as my mind takes me down a dirty trail straight to the gutter.

That is for sure a first for me, but again I can't find it in me to care. I'm not homophobic and if it turns out I'm into guys and girls, I really don't give a fuck. But I do hope Henley's words earlier do have a double meaning, because suddenly I'd really like to explore with him and figure out how I'm feeling.

Holding eye contact with Henley, I swallow the rest of my beer and tilt my head. "Come on, then. I'm excited to find out what I've been missing."

There is definitely a double meaning in my words. By the way Henley's smile grows, and his pupils dilate, I know he picked up on it.

Quickly we slide out of the booth and head over to the bar to settle our bill before leaving and making our way to his house for a night that I don't think I'll forget anytime soon.

I feel like I'm about to crawl out of my skin as Henley pulls into his driveway.

"Nothing has to happen if you don't want it to," Henley offers after putting the car into park and killing the engine. "We could just watch the movie, or you could even go home if you want. I'm pretty sure you were picking up on my other invitation, but if you're not ready for that, I won't be upset."

I nibble on my lower lip while trying to figure out what I want. I'm nervous as fuck, just like I was the first time I did anything with a girl, but there's also an undercurrent of excitement there too, and I don't want to shut things down just yet. I don't know how far I'll want to go tonight, but I do want to try something.

"I don't want to go home," I whisper.

Henley grins and tilts his head toward his house. "Okay then, let's go inside."

We both exit his car, and I follow behind him with an anxious, but eager energy coursing through my veins.

"Would you like anything to drink?" Henly asks once we're inside his house.

"A water would be nice," I reply while taking in the area around me.

The walls of the entryway and hall are light gray and are void of any decorations or pictures. They lack the personality I thought I would find in Henley's place. It isn't until I follow him into the living room that I find a space that suits Henley's personality.

"Have a seat and I'll get us some water," he tells me before heading into the kitchen.

I do as I'm told while also looking around the cozy room. It isn't overly decorated, but I have a feeling that the items that were chosen were done so with care and consideration. The walls are the same gray color as the hall, but there are a few pictures and some art work hanging on them, telling a story that I'd love to know. Who are the people that have earned the right to be showcased? What is the meaning behind the painting that hangs beside the window? How hard did Henley have to work to receive the certificates that are on either side of his television? So many questions pop into my head as I take in everything that is surrounding me.

"I got that when my dad took me to my first baseball game," Henley tells me, seeing that my focus is currently on a baseball that is sitting in a plastic box in the middle of his coffee table. "We caught a foul ball, and we were able to get it signed after the game."

"That's so cool," I reply with a big smile and take the glass of water from his outstretched hand.

"I'm not the most sentimental guy, and I hate clutter but that is one thing I would never part with," he explains before grabbing the remote to que up the movie.

I guess we really are going to watch Labyrinth. Part of me kind of thought it was just a ploy to get me into his house, and maybe it was before Henley clued into how nervous I am. Obviously he wants more than to just watch the silly movie he's seen a hundred times, but he's also putting the ball in my court. He's letting me choose what I'm ready for, and when. I respect him a whole hell of a lot for that.

The movie starts and we fall into a comfortable silence as the scenes play on the screen. I can't help but smirk when I realize that Henley is mouthing the words along with the characters.

I find myself entranced by the movie and see why Henley's first crush was David Bowie. He's hot. Slowly I begin to relax, and I realize I'm leaning into Henley. His one arm is behind me on the couch, and his side is pressing into my arm. He doesn't push for us to get any closer, but he also isn't moving away. He's letting me set the pace.

I'm getting more and more comfortable as the movie goes on but feel completely thrown off when the characters start singing. I sit up suddenly and turn to stare at Henley.

"It's a musical?" I shriek, making Henley chuckle.

"You didn't know that?" he questions with a lifted brow.

"No," I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. "If I had known that I would have refused to watch it. I've always hated musicals."

"Well, so far you've seemed to really like this one. Why don't you at least give it a chance?"

I glare at him for a moment, but his arms seem rather inviting and I really was enjoying the movie so, fuck it. I move back into position but this time I actually snuggle into him and smile when his hand drops to my upper arm. I've never been held like this before, but I'm already enjoying it.

By the time the movie ends I'm pretty happy that Henley made me watch it, because even though it was a musical, it was great. But as the credits roll, I wonder what we should do now. I could obviously go home, but I don't want to do that. What I think I really want to do is kiss the man holding me, but I'm also nervous to ask for it.

Slowly, I twist in his arms and place my hand on his chest.

"So, what did you think of it?" he asks, rubbing my arm at the same time.

"It was okay," I murmur, but my smile gives me away.

"Just okay, hmm?" he questions then tickles my side.

I laugh and squirm as his fingers dig into my side. Without realizing it, we move into a position where I'm lying down, and Henley is hovering over me. His touch turns gentle, and a shiver runs up my spine. My laughs are cut short as I take in a sharp breath.

"Would it be okay if I kissed you?" he questions, his fingers running up and down my side.

My mouth turns dry, and I find it impossible to speak, so I nod my head and close my eyes as I wait for his lips to touch mine. The nerves and excitement running through my veins make my heart beat faster. I really want this, but I know things are going to change as soon as this happens.

It feels like forever before Henley finally kisses me, but when he does it's like the room starts to spin. I'm suddenly dizzy with lust and desire, and I immediately cling to him. My hands roam up and down his back as his lips move against mine.

Kissing a man is nothing like kissing a woman, but that doesn't make it one better or worse, just different. I feel the exact same amount of euphoria that I do when making out with a woman, but I obviously also know that it isn't the same.

Henley's body is all hard and toned and his stubble rubs against my face giving me a small amount of beard burn that I surprisingly love. His erection presses firmly into my leg and my own cock pushes against the confines of my jeans and underwear, begging to be touched.

"Want. More," I murmur against his lips as I try to unbutton Henley's jeans.

"Earth to Carter," Brendon says, pulling me from my daydream.

I shake my head and clear my throat, trying to calm my racing heart. How the hell did I let myself fall that far down memory lane while sitting in front of my best friend?

"Sorry," I murmur before grabbing my glass of water and downing it.

"You completely zoned out on me," my best friend states, staring at me with concern written all over his face. "Are you alright?"

I wave him off and fake a laugh. "I'm fine. Just got lost in thought. But now I gotta piss. Be back in a minute," I tell him before excusing myself and making a beeline for the bathroom.

Once the door is shut behind me, I lean against it and throw my head back.

"Fuck," I whisper under my breathe.

If I'm going to keep daydreaming about my time with Henley, I'm gonna have to tell Brendon about my summer or things are going to become even more awkward.