Best Friends (6 page)

“That’s because you’re so open. I’m not like you when it comes to touchy feely shit. You know that.”

“Yeah, but, this is different. I’m telling you I’m fucking in love with you, C.” His voice broke and he turned away. “
Shit.
” He slammed his palm against the wall.

I jumped when he hit the partition. I wanted him to understand where I was coming from. It wasn’t that I was heartless. Terrified would be more accurate. “I can’t just be open about something this personal because you think I should be.”

He looked hurt, his brown eyes wary. “Is this just a sexual thing for you?”

“Of course not.”

“But it doesn’t mean enough to you to let people know?”

I lifted my chin. “Malcolm, all I’m saying is let’s see how this goes before we announce it to the world. Once it’s out there’s no coming back from it.”

“So?”

I flushed. “People will think we’re gay.”

“Oh my fucking God, dude. You’re in total denial.” His expression was ugly as he snarled, “You wanted me to
fuck you
two minutes ago. Does that sound like something a straight guy would ask his friend to do?”

Closing my eyes, I spoke gruffly. “You can be pissed if you need to be. But I’m not comfortable with… I don’t even know what to call it.” Opening my eyes, I clenched my jaw. “I need more time. That’s just how it has to be.”

His laugh was hard. “You know me well enough to know I’m an all-or-nothing kind of guy.”

My stomach churned. “What does that mean?”

“It means it’s going to be hard to be around you.”

Afraid of what he was saying, I cajoled, “Come on, Malcolm. Don’t be like this.” What would I do if he turned his back on me? I felt like I was going to have a panic attack at the very idea.

“I’ve been telling you I love you for years.” His mouth wrinkled in distaste. “God, you must have thought I was a fucking sap this whole time.”

I shook my head. “No.”
I love you too
. The words were stuck in my throat. It was like trying to eat a peanut butter sandwich when your milk glass is empty.

He ignored me. “I always thought you were just pretending to be cold. But you really are, aren’t you?”

“I’m not cold,” I snapped.

“I’m such an idiot.” His laugh was harsh.

“Goddamn it, Malcolm. Stop it. You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“The fact that you would say that tells me everything I need to know.” He shook his head, looking nauseated.

“Malcolm,” I said softly. “Don’t be mad.”

“Just go home. I’ll tell the girls you aren’t feeling well and you had to leave.” He exited the bathroom and the door slammed behind him, echoing in the empty room.

I was sick to my stomach at how angry he was. I’d never seen him that mad before. Not with me, anyway. Had I ruined everything?

“You’re such a fucking coward,” I whispered to my dejected reflection. Then I turned and went home alone.

Chapter Five

It had never been like his between me and Malcolm. Silent. Cold. We’d never gone more than a week without talking to each other, or at least texting. But he didn’t reach out to me, and I was afraid to try and contact him. He’d been so hurt and upset the last time I’d seen him. I didn’t dare.

Our department had a big Fourth of July barbeque planned for today, and Cheyanne and I were in charge of the drink stand. I had a pretty good idea that Malcolm and his partner, Jarod, would be manning the barbequing tent. They did that every year just like me and Cheyanne got roped into the refreshments. I was fully aware that completely avoiding Malcolm would be difficult.

I arrived at the park, nervous about potentially running into Malcolm. My eyes scanned the area, looking for him. When I saw that the meat tent was directly next to our drink stand I almost ran out of the park. Big plumes of smoke billowed as Malcolm and Jarod worked to get the grills up to speed. Taking in the lean frame of my old friend, my stomach churned. His jeans hugged his muscled thighs as he bent over grabbing paper plates and napkins. Whatever I felt for him hadn’t lessened with time, that was for sure.

Cheyanne was already in our tent hanging balloons. She was well aware that Malcolm and I had had a falling out, and she knew what had caused the schism in our friendship. At first I’d held the reason tight to my chest. I’d been too embarrassed and prideful to let anyone know how I felt about Malcolm. But as the days and weeks passed I’d begun dropping tiny hints to her until one day at Frankie’s she’d pulled the whole story out of me. It had been torture enduring the loss of my best friend without being able to talk about it. And I had to respect Cheyanne because after she found out the reason for our falling out, she didn’t treat me any differently than before. She’d been surprised, and at first she’d thought maybe I was kidding her. But when she realized I was actually in love with my best friend she’d been nothing but supportive.

Grabbing my arm and pulling me to the far corner of our booth, Cheyanne said at the top of her lungs, “Did you get the ice?”

I frowned at her. “They’re delivering ice, remember?”

“I know that, dummy,” she whispered. “I just didn’t want You Know Who to think we’re talking about him.”

Throwing a cautious glance toward the meat tent, I met Jarod’s friendly gaze. “Hey, Carrick.” He smiled. “Hope you two don’t mind smelling like barbeque.”

“Doesn’t look like we have much choice,” I responded, wishing I didn’t sound so damn stilted.

Malcolm turned and nodded politely when our eyes locked. But he didn’t say anything and just went back to work. I felt sick at how withdrawn he was. Since we were kids we’d never gone anywhere together that we didn’t gravitate to one another. I enjoyed him more than any other human on this planet, and now he hated me.

Cheyanne dragged me over to start hanging signs and I did my best to not stare over at Malcolm. It was hard because I’d hear his husky laugh and my stomach would warm. I wanted to know what he found so funny and hear whatever stories he had to share. But he didn’t want me around anymore. He thought I was cold, and unloving, when truthfully I was merely scared.

When people began arriving to the park I had no time to worry about my fractured relationship with Malcolm. I spent the next four hours handing out drinks and socializing with curious citizens. The few times I looked over, Malcolm and Jarod were equally busy as people bombarded their tent for food.

When things began to slow down a little toward late afternoon, Cheyanne nudged me with her elbow. “You should go talk to Malcolm.”

“What?” I looked at her like I thought she was crazy. “I can’t do that.”

“He’s your best friend. It’s weird that you haven’t tried talking this out yet.” She popped open a couple of cans of soda and filled Styrofoam cups for some giggling kids who ran up to the booth.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me.” I flicked my glance nervously toward my old friend, my heart fluttering at the sight of his broad shoulders.

“Of course he does.”

“He hates me.”

She snorted. “That is the complete opposite of what he feels. He was mad at you for wanting to hide your relationship with him. How do you get hate out of that?”

“I’m saying he hates me
now
. He’s disgusted by what a chicken shit I am.”

“Well, you’re not helping convince me he isn’t right. That’s for sure.” She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah. I know. I’m a coward.”

Shrugging, she said, “Having a conversation with him isn’t outside your skill set. Besides, you’ve been best friends forever. Of course you need to talk.”

I sighed. “I’ve seen how he is when he’s pissed off. It isn’t pretty.”

“Well, if you guys don’t repair this soon it’s going to get easier and easier to just let it go. Is that what you really want?” Her eyes were wide.

“No.”

“Then get your cowardly ass over there and talk to him.”

I huffed. “He didn’t understand why I needed time. I doubt that’s changed.”

“He’s had a lot of time to calm down. It wasn’t unreasonable of you to want time to figure things out between you two privately. But it also wasn’t weird that, as strongly as he feels about you, he wouldn’t want to hide that. You two bozos need to meet in the middle. He needs to be more understanding, and you need to man up and stop acting like your sex life is anyone else’s business.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

She nodded. “Okay. Maybe that’s true. But you’re not the first bisexual cop to ever join the department.”

I looked around nervously. “Could you please keep it down?”

Snorting, she rolled her eyes. “Did you know we have three openly gay cops at our station?” Her tone was casual.

“We do? I didn’t know that.”

She filled a cup with ice and poured an orange soda for a little girl with braids. Once the child left the area she turned to me. “Of course you didn’t. You know why? It’s none of your business.”

I frowned at her, confused. “Okaayyy.”

“Their sex lives are none of your business, just like who you sleep with isn’t any of theirs. You’re a grown man. Act like it.”

I flushed. “Shit, Cheyanne. Tell me how you really feel.”

She faced me with her arms crossed. “I’m frustrated with you.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of picking up on that.”

“You two clowns have been eyeballing each other all day. But it’s painful to watch because neither one of you wants to make the first move. What are you, five? It’s ridiculous. If you want to be with Malcolm and he wants to be with you, then stop acting like anyone
else
is keeping you apart. You two need to get out of your own damn way.”

It wasn’t easy to hear, but I knew she was right. I glanced over just in time to see Malcolm look away. God, I was terrified to approach him first in case he rejected me. He was amazingly patient, but once he got mad, he got furious, grudge-holding mad.

“Why are you so afraid of what other people think?” Cheyanne’s question jarred my thoughts.

Shrugging, I faced her. “Because I have to work really hard to be accepted as it is.”

She smirked. “Yeah. Me too. So what? You think it’s been easy being a woman cop in a predominantly male profession? It’s been harder than anything I’ve ever done. But I love it. And all the hardships don’t make it not worth it.”

Nodding, I said, “Everything you’re saying makes sense, and I just want him back in my life.”

“It’s so obvious you love him.” Her gaze was sympathetic.

I glanced over at Malcolm grilling hamburgers. That familiar lock of hair was falling over his brow, and his full lips were curved in a smile at something Jarod was saying. My heart ached with need. I wanted to go over and beg him to forgive me.

She sighed. “I’m not saying I have all the answers. But if you two love each other you have to at least try, right?”

“What if I’m not strong enough to put up with homophobes and people who might be jerks to us?”

Her gaze softened. “You are, Carrick. You’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. Plus you won’t be alone. Malcolm will be by your side going through it with you. Just like always. You two have always been there for each other.”

“Yeah.” Sucking in a big breath, I closed my eyes, trying to steel myself against the anxiety curling in my gut.

When I opened my lids Cheyanne pushed me toward Malcolm’s tent. “Stop stalling and talk to him.” I lost my balance slightly and knocked into one of the poles holding up their tent. Scowling back at her, I straightened my shirt and turned toward Malcolm. He was watching me with a guarded look in his eyes.

“Hey—” My voice broke and I sounded like a strangled chicken. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Hey, you want to take a walk?”

Malcolm hesitated and looked toward Jarod, who said, “It’s slowed to a trickle. I can handle this just fine, dude. Go for it.” Jarod saluted his partner and turned back to the grill.

Shrugging, Malcolm pulled off his apron. “Okay, I guess.”

We walked away from the tents in silence, with my heart pounding like crazy. His clean familiar scent filled my nostrils, and I was so happy to have him next to me I felt giddy. But when I glanced over at him his expression was grim, his mouth in a straight line. We reached a grove of maple trees on the outskirts of the festivities and stopped walking.

I spoke first. “How…how’ve you been?”

“Fine.” His answer was curt as he stared back the way we’d come.

“Great.” I bit my lip and decided to break out of my usual emotionless state. “I’ve missed you.” For me, saying anything sentimental was challenging. Just saying that small thing made me feel like I’d said “I love you and will die if I can’t have you.”

He snorted and didn’t respond, which made me twice as self-conscious.

“I heard you arrested that rapist that the entire department was trying to catch.” I wondered if I sounded as nervous to him as I felt.

“Yep.” He tugged at a low hanging branch, pulling on the leaves in silence. I knew him well enough to know he was listening to me even if he looked uninterested.

“You might even get a commendation out of that arrest.”

Giving me an impatient glance, he said, “If you just wanted to get out of the booth to talk about work I think I’m going to head back.”

My stomach dropped and I felt frozen in place. But then I forced myself to move closer to him. “No. Don’t go. I want to talk about us too.”

“Okay.”

“I meant it when I said I missed you. It’s been sad without you around. I’ve gone through every flavor of soup the grocery store carries. I’ll probably die of sodium poisoning by the end of the month.”

He rolled his eyes, but I noticed his lips twitched. “It certainly wouldn’t hurt you to eat a damn apple every now and then.”

“Yeah. I know. I tend to do a lot of self-destructive things. Like eating canned soup and driving my best friend away.”

He sighed and leaned against the trunk of the tree. “Look, I’ve missed you too, but I just can’t be around you. It’s too painful.”

“How can you just stop being my friend like it’s nothing to you?”

He narrowed his gaze. “Nothing to me?”