“Sorry. Thought you’d hear me.”
“I probably would have if I wasn’t trying to hatchet through one of the sixty messes that need to be taken care of before the house is ready to sell.”
“Oh? Delores is selling? Never thought I’d see that day.”
“Only if I’m able to talk her into selling. It’s her best option. But she’s got a mind of her own, and this is her home, so I can’t blame her for not wanting to leave.”
“Yeah, she and Manny were happy here. A lot of memories over the last few years.”
Too many memories. That’s why I had to leave; they were suffocating me.
I dig my toe into the dirt. “You didn’t come in for Manny’s funeral.”
He pushes his hands into his pockets, turning away. “Yeah, well, I was under contract, I couldn’t just up and leave in the middle of it. It would’ve cost me a bundle. I’m sorry I didn’t get here.”
“Fuck that. He was practically your family. Surely you could’ve worked it out.”
“I wanted to. I did. But you don’t get what it’s like out there. You’re either all in or you get nowhere. It’s an ocean full of sharks, and any sign of weakness gets you eaten alive and left behind.”
I cross my arms and stare at him, waiting for him to say something that deserves an answer.
“Do you think it’s been easy leaving my family for so long? Working all hours of the day and night on the whims of writers and directors?”
I shake my head. “No idea.”
“At one point, I worked part-time at four odd jobs and shared a two bedroom apartment with three other people just to afford to eat and not end up on the fucking street. For well over two years I lived with a god damned boulder in my gut, afraid I’d made the biggest mistake of my fucking life by climbing on that bus bound for Hollywood.”
The bus. That’s a feeling I can relate to. “I get that part. I wondered the same thing a few times during boot when my feet were eaten up with blisters and my body hurt so fucking bad it felt like I’d been run over by the bus that took me there. But—you could’ve called.”
“I did call. I talked to Delores a couple of times that week, and two or three more times over the next month.”
Embarrassment leads tingles up the back of my neck. “She didn’t tell me. Sorry.”
“I left, but I still think about home all the time.” He pushes his fingers through his hair.
“And here I’ve spent the last few years avoiding too many thoughts about this place and all the crap it put me through. Tried to distance myself as much as I could.”
He pushes away from the tree and steps into the dappled light. “I hate that you had such a hard time, Lou. I only ever wanted what was best for you. I still think about you all the time.”
My stomach tightens as he takes another step closer.
“Buck, I don’t know what you want, but—”
“Well, let me break this down for you, Lou. All I want is you.”
I stumble backward. My heart struggles to catch its balance as much as my body does. Instinct tells me to throw myself into his arms.
Instinct is wrong.
Instinct is what got me into this ridiculous position in the first place.
So, I do what I’ve learned is sometimes necessary. I ignore instinct. Instead, I use my head, not the organ currently flopping around in my chest like a dying fish.
“Too fucking bad. You can’t have me, Buck. Been there. Done that. Even have the stupid T-shirt. Fool me once and all that shit.”
“Give me another chance, Lou. Hell, I didn’t even realize how much I’ve missed you until I saw you again. Maybe you’ll find out that you’ve missed me too.” He steps closer, his hand out as though he expects me to take it.
And hell if I don’t want to take it. I do, but I can’t let myself—I worked too hard to get over him to fall into that trap.
I pull my shoulders back, look him in the eye, and lie. “Well, I haven’t missed you. Not since I grew the fuck up and realized you weren’t worth the salt in my piss. You weren’t then. You aren’t now.”
He doesn’t even blink. “You’re probably right. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting you.”
His hand snakes out and his arm circles my waist before I can dodge him. He yanks me close. My hands go to his arms, his biceps rock hard and flexing beneath my fingers. His heart thumps against my chest. Mine answers, because I’ve always wanted him. Since the first time I became aware of him as a man and not just my friend, I’ve craved his touch. But—
That ain’t going to work.