Page 12 of Covington Acres

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Page 12 of Covington Acres

When they got home, Colby went to the fridge in his garage, where he kept his beer. He had different kinds and flavors and chose one according to his mood. Colby wasn’t an everyday drinker, but Vince had learned he liked beer. He talked about the flavors, tasting things in the beverage Vince never did. He enjoyed a cold one himself, but sometimes Colby talked about it like a beer connoisseur.

“Want one?” he called to Vince.

“Sure. You pick.”

Colby came back in with two bottles of a pale ale. He opened one and handed it to Vince, then the second for himself.

Colby took a swig, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m beat. I’m going to take a shower and head to bed. We have to be up early in the morning.”

“Okay. Do you—”

“I’m good, Vince. You don’t have to baby me.” He took his bottle with him and headed toward his room.

Well, shit. That was new. Colby had never bitten off his head like that before. Vince didn’t take it personally—he had no doubt Colby was upset. It was something his friend would feel guilty about later, when he shouldn’t. Everyone had a bad day.

Vince locked up, turned off the lights, and grabbed some underwear before heading to the shower. His room didn’t have an en suite like Colby’s, so he used the hallway bathroom of theirone-story home—shit—of Colby’s home. Yeah, he lived here, but this house wasn’t his.

He let himself linger under the hot water spray. He thought about jerking off but wasn’t really in the mood. He wanted to find out what was eating away at his friend, wanted to make it better. Vince liked to be the one to make things better for people he cared about. That was likely one of the reasons his ex got Vince to forgive him. He knew how to play on Vince’s weaknesses, knew what to say, how to act to lure Vince right back in. He had a bit of a hero complex, and he knew it.

Once he finished his shower, Vince dried off, brushed his teeth, tugged on a pair of boxer briefs, and headed for his room.

Thoughts of Colby were still eating at him, so Vince opened the closet, grabbed a box of Honey Smacks, and figured he would cheer Colby up with some cereal, then give him the privacy he clearly wanted. He could even leave the box outside Colby’s door so as not to disturb him, then text him to say it was there.

He pulled open his bedroom door, box in hand, and there was Colby, hair wet from his shower, wearing a pair of nylon shorts, with his arm raised, about to knock.

“Hey,” Vince said.

Colby’s blue gaze darted down to the box in Vince’s hand. “Is that for me?”

“It is.”

“Even though I’m an asshole?”

Vince rolled his eyes. “You’re not an asshole.”

Colby sighed, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” Vince stood out of the way for Colby to enter his room. Colby sat on the edge of the mattress, Vince going down beside him. He handed the box over, which Colby opened, taking a handful out and eating some.

“I’m forty and don’t know who I am.”

Vince frowned, a pang in his chest for this man. How could Colby think that about himself? “What do you mean?”

“I just… I feel like my whole life has been decided for me. And I do my best to be who everyone wants me to be, to do what’s expected of me, but I feel like I’m constantly letting people down.”

“Babe…I don’t think it’s possible for you to let anyone down. Not really. And it’s not your responsibility to be who others want you to be. All you can do is be who you are.”

“But what if I don’t know who that is?”

Vince had been having a hard time fitting the pieces together, so this made sense. The way he saw it, Colby was one of the most put-together people he knew. “Is this about Lulu?”

“Yes. No. Kind of. Ugh!” Colby set the box on the floor, then lay back on Vince’s bed, their legs hanging over the side. “It’s about everything. I didn’t love her…I mean, I wasn’tinlove with her. How did you know you were in love with Gregory?”

Ah, hell. Greg was the last person Vince wanted to talk about, but then, he also wanted to be there for Colby. “I need to be more comfortable for this.” He moved up higher on the bed so his head was on the pillows. Colby did the same. “I’m not sure I’m the best person to talk to about being in love. I’ve been in love with exactly one person, who was terrible, narcissistic, and cheated on me both times we were together.”

“That says something about him, not you. I hate thinking about you being hurt, but you’re also the kind of man who gave him a second chance. You were able to give your heart to him again, and I…”

“You what?”




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