More Than Friends - Part 2

All characters are consenting adults (18+)

Part 2 of 3

One day passed. Then another, and even when a week had gone by, the memory of the kiss remained at the forefront of my mind.

Was I overthinking it? Was it really just a stupid kiss? Was there more to it than what Brandon had said? The questions plagued me, but what was even more confusing, was the fact that I still couldn’t work out how I felt about it.

I’d never questioned my sexuality. Not even once. For as long as I could remember I’d been attracted to women. So why had I reacted so strangely to the kiss? I should have shoved him away and confronted him about it. Or, maybe I should have shoved him away and joked about it, but the fact remained that at bare minimum, I should have shoved him away, and I didn’t.

Aside from the conundrum with Brandon, Cara had become more of a problem than I cared to deal with. The incessant phone calls, the daily bombardment of texts, and the constant complaining was becoming unbearable.

“Are we going out on Friday?” She asked, as she slurped a milkshake. Even the noise of it was irritating me.

“Friday?” I mumbled, “yeah, if you want”.

“If I want?”

I turned my attention from the window to her and watched as she scoffed. “What?” I asked.

“It’s our anniversary” she replied, drawing the words out like I was a child. “Not that I’d expect you to remember that”.

“Then why are you pissed if you didn’t expect me to remember it?” I answered, and her face turned sour.

“You’re a fucking asshole, Jake, you know that?”

“So you keep saying”.

Cara crossed her arms and sat back. I wasn’t purposely trying to piss her off, but I was still bitter.

“I’m kidding” I lied, “of course we’re going out”.

It took milliseconds for her entire demeanour to change. Just as I expected, as soon as she thought that she’d benefit, her attitude flipped back to normal.

“Love you” she beamed, and slurped more milkshake before grabbing her handbag, slinging it over her shoulder and strolling to the bathroom.

I sat back and sighed. How much longer could I continue with this charade? It was painfully clear to me that I was no longer interested in Cara. The entire year had been a nightmare, and it was only getting worse.

As I tried to work out how on earth I was going to get out of this mess, my mind began to wander. What was Brandon doing at that moment? Where was he? Who was he with? I had no idea why I wanted to know, but I did. Was he at the gym? Was he at a boring lecture in college? Maybe he was at home, lying on his bed, wearing nothing but a pair of damp, sweat soaked shorts. Maybe he was…

Cara’s phone buzzed on the other side of the table. I ignored it at first, but seconds later it buzzed again. It wasn’t like her to leave her phone unattended, so when it buzzed a third time, I began to wonder if something was wrong. I reached over, turned it toward me, and raised a brow.

“Darren Miley” I said to myself, recognising the name as a guy I’d gone to high school with.

I should have put the phone back. I should have minded my own business and forgotten the entire thing, but how could I? Against my better judgement, I unlocked the phone and by the time Cara came back, I was more excited than I had been in a year.

“So” she grinned, sitting back down, “where are we going on Friday? Or is it a surprise?”

I smiled back at her as she discreetly slid her phone into her bag.

“I’m going to the bar” I told her, and her smile began to falter. “Then I might go to the club” I continued, draining the last of my own milkshake, and slurping so loud that she looked at me with disgust. “Then” I said, getting to my feet and grabbing my backpack, “then, I’m going to find the hottest person that I can, bring them back to my place, and get my fucking dick sucked”.

Cara’s entire face had turned ghostly white. The people in the booths closest to us turned and gawped at me, because I certainly wasn’t being discreet.

“Oh, don’t look so grossed out, babe” I grinned, “you clearly had no problem sucking Darren’s dick, huh?”

Her jaw dropped as I turned on my heel and noticed an older man glaring at me.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” I spat, channelling my inner Brandon as I strolled happily out the door.

“And you actually said that to her?” Brandon laughed, pulling up to the bar three days later.

“Yep” I nodded, because I was still proud of myself for it. “You should have seen her face, man”.

“I can imagine” he grinned, “but I don’t want to have to carry you home tonight, so don’t go too wild”.

I scoffed as we stepped out of his car. I hadn’t had a good night out in a year, and now that I was finally free, I had no plans to keep tame.

“What about you?” I asked, opening the door for him, and accidentally eyeing his pecs through his tight, white t-shirt.

“What about me?”

“Aren’t you looking for love?” I teased, and grabbed his broad shoulders before massaging them roughly.

“I’m not really a ‘love’ guy” he shrugged, as we sat down and ordered two beers. “Besides, why bother with love when I can spend my nights drinking beer, eating pizza and scrolling through Grindr?”.

I took a sup of my beer as soon as it arrived. “You know, of all three of those things, I bet the only one that’s true is that you scroll through Grindr all night” I joked, but it was true. Besides a rare beer, I couldn’t even remember the last time that Brandon had put a carb into his body.

“Here” he said, stifling a laugh as he leaned over and rubbed his thumb across my upper lip. It startled me for a moment, until he sat back and showed me the beer foam. “Were you saving it for later?”

“Dipshit” I smiled, and part of me wanted him to do that romantic thing where he sucked it off his thumb. Instead, he rubbed it on the table, and I, once again, felt like a fucking idiot.

“Anyway” he continued, “Grindr certainly has more eye candy than this place”.

I looked around. He wasn’t wrong, but it was still early, and by the time the crowds started to arrive, I was already feeling the effects of the alcohol.

“We should dance!” I called over the loud music.

“You should dance” he replied, “I don’t dance”.

“Sure you do” I said, grabbing his wrist and trying, but failing to pull him with me. “All gay guys dance!”

“I’m not gay” he replied, grinning.

Physical force wasn’t going to work with Brandon, so I swerved through the crowd on my own. I felt free for the first time in as long as I could remember, and the louder the music became, the drunker I felt.

“Hey” I called to a very attractive young woman who looked at me like I was a bizarre looking beetle. She scoffed at me before hurrying off. “Well, fuck you too” I shrugged, and continued to dance.

“Hey!” I said to another chick, because although she wasn’t exactly my type, I was eager to see if I still had game.

“You look like you’re still in diapers” she laughed, picking up her cocktail, “I’m thirty eight, sweetie”.

I sighed as she walked away, and turned around to find the hottest looking woman I’d ever seen in my life. She looked around the same age as me, and from what I could tell, she was on her own. Confidently, and with as much charisma as a drunken young man could muster, I strolled directly toward her, and as soon as her bright, sparkling blue eyes connected with mine, I fell face first onto the floor and felt the warm gush of blood burst from my nostrils.

“I’ve seen some funny shit in my time” Brandon said, as I sat on the edge of the sink with my shirt open and blood stains all over my face and chest. He wet some more toilet paper as he dried his eyes from laughing, and continued to clean me up. “That” he nodded, “that was the fucking funniest”.

“Ha ha” I replied, sarcastically, but even that sounded stupid given the fact that my nostrils were stuffed with tissue.

“I’m sorry, bro” he said, pulling my shirt down my arms and running the wet toilet paper over my chest, “but come on, man, what the fuck were you thinking? That chick was a solid ten”.

“And what am I?” I asked, feeling so incredibly sorry for myself that I was genuinely on the verge of tears.

“A six?” He replied, “seven when you comb your hair”.

“Fuck you” I mumbled, and looked at myself in the mirror. It took only seconds before my eyes moved to Brandon, and he stared at me through the reflection.

“You can cry if you want” he said, but there wasn’t even a hint of a smile on his face. “You don’t have to act like such a tough guy all the time”.

“Who’s acting?” I spat, but we both knew the answer to that. “Why would she cheat on me, man?”

It was just another question to add to the pile in my head, but it had bothered me more than I’d let on. What was so wrong with me that she’d picked Darren fucking Miley over me? Sure, I was glad that it was over, but I could have thought of better ways of it ending.

“Because she’s an idiot” he replied, “and she doesn’t deserve you”.

“Yeah right” I sighed.

“Look at me”.

I continued to stare at the sink that was drenched in speckles of blood.

“Look at me, dude” he said again, and I felt his warm, strong fingers clasp my cheeks as he turned my head toward his. “What do you want?”

“What?” I asked, staring into his beautiful eyes and feeling butterflies explode in my stomach.

“What do you want?”

I didn’t answer him for a moment. It felt too good to ruin whatever it was that was happening, and then my mouth moved without my brain telling it to, and although I wanted to catch the word that I’d just spoken, I couldn’t.

“You”.