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“Shit, sorry. I’m sorry.” Will took two steps back and rebalanced the drink carrier in his hand. “Sorry. I… here.” He tugged one of the coffee cups loose and extended it. I instantly recognized the logo for Snacks-and-Sips.
“Thanks? What’s the occasion?” I sniffed the warm steam and the notes of caramel gave me pause. He’d gotten my favorite drink.
“I’m… fuck, sorry.” His eyes dropped to his feet with a shaky sigh. “I did practice. For like ten fucking years.”
“Will?”
His eyes cautiously lifted to meet mine. “I’m sorry I was such a dick in high school. I messed up, I gave you the wrong idea, and I’m sorry.”
Not the apology I was looking for, but it was a step in the right direction. “Wrong idea? I remember that afternoon, and if that’s the ‘wrong idea’ you’re talking about, I’d rather you not lie—”
“I’m gay.” He blurted the words so fast and loud that I briefly wondered how hard it must have been for him to say it out loud.
“Okay. I’m probably about to sound like the biggest douche in history, but I might have figured that one out when you had your tongue shoved down my throat.” I searched his face with a wariness born of confusion and the long-brewing hurt I’d carried around since that day.
His shoulders sagged a little, and I did indeed feel like the biggest douche. “Yeah. I just… I freaked out, but it’s no excuse, so I’m here to tell you I’m sorry and I’ve felt like shit every day since then, but every time I get up the nerve to apologize, I freak out again, and time kept passing, and you were gone for a while, and now you’re back and I just—”
“Will.” My hand landed on his bicep. “Breathe.”
One little shallow gasp was all he managed before mumbling another apology with downcast eyes. Despite myself, I stroked my thumb over the muscle beneath his t-shirt. What I really wanted to do was hug him until he stopped looking so damn sad.
“What ‘wrong idea’ are you talking about?”
“I gave you the idea that I was… disgusted. Not interested. It wasn’t that at all.” He shrugged his shoulders and I gave his upper arm a reassuring squeeze as I felt the muscles tense and flex with the movement. “I was just scared, and because of that, I handled it all wrong. And continued to handle it wrong. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you here, Will?” Reluctantly, I withdrew my hand once he mustered up the courage to meet me eye to eye again.
“To say I’m sorry and ask if… maybe could we… could we try being… friends again?” His gaze swept over my face, full of raw, real, unabashed vulnerability. The kind of earnestness that was impossible to say no to, even if I was ninety-nine percent positive he’d wanted to say something other than friends. I was glad he’d settled on friends. I didn’t think I was mentally capable of handling anything more than that at eight o’clock in the morning.
“Friends. I’d like that.”
His smile was radiant.Fuck me sideways.Every synapse in my brain fired at once, screaming “abort, abort, abort!” I was kidding myself if I thought this wouldn’t be anything but awkward and stilted. Maybe I wasn’t ready for more than friendship, but if he kept smiling at me like that, minor details like that wouldn’t matter. His dimples alone made me want to climb him like a Goddamn tree right here on the front porch. I’d always been a complete goner for his dimples.
“Again, I’m really sorry, EJ.” He scuffed one foot and pushed his hair back with a swift movement. “Also, to make it up to you, I’m here to help. Heard through the grapevine you were headed out to hit the pavement today. Figured maybe… I could give you a lift? Hang around? You know, as a supporter. Of the campaign. I know a lot of people.”
Watching him stumble nervously over his words was too endearing. Yeah… this was a terrible idea. My mouth didn’t agree with my brain, though.
“That’d be great, Will. It won’t be an issue for your job if you publicly support a candidate?”
He shook his head and immediately had to brush the hair from his eyes again. “Nope. I’m off-duty and not in uniform, so it’s all clear. I checked the handbook online.”
His smile became an influence on mine until I was grinning ear-to-ear like a fool. He’d clearly been stressing this, andplanning it, for some time. “Sounds like we’re all set, then. Your truck or my car?”
“Okay, don’t laugh,” he warned with a squint. “My truck. I found a bunch of the songs we put together in a file from way back. I figured we could cruise.”
Crash.That was the sound of the last of my resolve crumbling to dust. If I weren’t careful, William Doherty was going to break my heart for a second time and I’d have only myself to blame for it. Wordlessly, I pulled the door to the cottage closed and nodded toward his truck. Like a damn golden retriever with a new toy, he practically bounced toward the passenger seat and flung it open before I’d even made it halfway toward the driveway.
“Use the side step.” He pointed to the little metal running board. “Nice, right?”
I couldn’t resist placing my hand on his forearm as I stepped up into the truck. Evidently, I had zero sense of self-preservation or self-respect. “It is. It’s also massive.”
He shut the door for me and jogged around the front, his smile a near-constant feature of his face. Only once he was in the driver’s seat and pulling out of the driveway did he continue with his anxious rambling. “I wanted the extra bulk and horsepower so I could get a plow for the winter. Benji, you know Benji… he was so overbooked last winter, he once went a full seventy-two hours without sleep and ended up in a ditch outside the Patterson farm. I figured I could help him out.”
This man wasn’t real. I pinched the inside of my arm to make sure I wasn’t imagining everything.
“Of course, I remember Benji. He’s done well for himself. We cross paths at the tavern once in a while. Now that you mention it… he does all the plowing for my family.” I mentally tallied all the parking lots and driveways and completely understood why the poor guy would be that overworked.
“Yeah, he’s raking in the work but refuses to hire help.” Will glanced toward me with a grin. “He says he’s saving up for a house for him and his mom. Good ole Benj.”