I would make this work.
For him.
JAX
Tables lined the sidewalk as we walked up to the busy restaurant hand in hand. The patio of the brewery Wild had chosen was filled with people. Some of them looked like they’d come straight from the office, dressed in button-downs and loose ties. The rest of the crowd looked more like college-aged kids. A group of guys sitting on the patio stared at us as we approached the door. They were watching, judging us. On instinct, my hand twitched in Wild’s palm. My spine straightened as I fought myself, hoping Wild hadn’t noticed that my fingers had started to sweat. A few people were lined up in front of the door, blocking the entrance, and we were forced to stand there as my heart raced in my dry throat.
“It’s okay, Jax,” Wild curled his arm around mine, pulling me to his side. All my insecurities, those whispered slurs I’d heard rattling around inside my head, the voice, it was my own. “Just breathe,” he said, and when I looked into his eyes, the voice disappeared.
I pulled Wild close and leaned into him. Glancing over to that table of guys, I refused to back down as they glared, and pressed a kiss to Wild’s lips.
“I’m breathing,” I said, and he smiled against my cheek.
That smile made it easier to ignore how my pulse rioted, reminded me that the disgust I’d seen on those strangers’ faces had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with the thing they feared inside themselves. If I ever wanted to live, if I ever wanted to be happy, I had to start living for myself, and not those assholes. They knew nothing about me or my life.
“You okay?” Wild asked, taking my hand in his again.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
I raised our locked fingers and kissed his knuckles as the line moved into the pub. It was dark inside, the only light came from the small candle-lit lanterns on each table. The music wasn’t so loud that I couldn’t hear myself think, but it made the room buzz. The hostess smiled at us from behind the raised desk, and I admired the intricate-looking Celtic knot that had been carved into the wood paneling on the wall behind her.
“We have a reservation,” Wild said, raising his voice so that she could hear him. “Welles, party of two.”
She lowered her eyes to what looked like a list of names and nodded. Grabbing two menus, she motioned for us to follow her. I held on to his hand as she brought us to a small table in the back of the room. Wild sat across from me as she placed the menus down, and I scanned the restaurant, the sea of faces a blur. Instead of giving into the bullshit inside my head again, I confronted it. Nothing I had in my heart for this man was wrong. There was no way our love was a sin. Instead of panic, for once I had pride. The hostess’s voice drew my attention back to our table, but I was too wrapped up in Wild to care what she had to say. His eyes were almost black, his pale skin glowing in the low light. He ran his long fingers through his curls and gave her a smile as he listened. Wild was beautiful and graceful and unapologetically himself, and I would give anything for the chance to have him in my life for good.
Once she left, Wild reached across the table, his hand sliding into my palm, and for most of the night that’s where it stayed. We found ways to touch each other. My hand seeking his, his foot resting against mine under the table. We ordered beer and burgers and talked about Eastchester. I asked him about his last year, and he didn’t sugarcoat how shitty it had been for him. I was grateful for his honesty. I needed to know how hard it had been for him to truly understand how fucking lucky I was to be at this table. He’d told me how he’d almost quit but realized living at home with his parents would have been much worse. I think I apologized about fifty times until he kicked me under the table and asked me to never say the word sorry again. Wild made me less anxious as he changed the subject to his writing and how hard it had been for him to get his book read by the right people.
“I queried I think thirty agencies before Anders picked me up,” he said, lifting his pint glass to his mouth.
“Queried?” I asked. “What does that mean?”
He waved his hand and rolled his eyes. “It’s a letter you send out to literary agencies to try and get them to represent you. It’s the fucking worst.”
“You wrote thirty agencies?”
“I did. And I’m very fortunate that I got picked up at all,” he said.
“I read that book, Wild, and it was phenomenal. Those other agencies missed out.”
“It was self-indulgent. But I needed to write it. It was cathartic.” He held up his hand as I opened my mouth to speak. “Do not say you’re sorry…” He grinned as I pressed my lips together. “Thank you.”
I took a pull from my bottle of beer as the waiter stopped at our table. “Did you want another round?”
“I’m good. How about you?” I asked Wild, and he shook his head. “I think we’re ready for the check.”
After the waiter brought back my card, we walked out to the curb to wait for our Uber. The air was cooler than usual, and Wild shivered beside me.
“Are you cold?” I asked.
He hugged himself. “A little.”
I stepped behind him. Pulling his back to my chest, my arms draped around his waist. He leaned in, his head resting against my shoulder. There were a few people lingering on the patio of the pub, but for the most part it was quiet. I focused on Wild’s breathing, the heat of his body as it soaked through my shirt. Kissing his temple, I breathed in the smell of his shampoo, letting it fill my lungs. I wanted to stay in the moment as I long as I could, dreaming about a life where every Friday night was just like this. But our ride pulled up to the curb, and I unwillingly let Wild go.
“You’re quiet,” he said as the driver pulled on to the main road. “Everything all right in that beautiful head of yours?”
“Just thinking.”
“Okay…” He smiled as he searched my face. “Feel like elaborating?”
“It’s...” I hesitated as the driver looked at us through his rear-view mirror. “I… I want this life with you. I used to feel guilty for wanting a future, when Jason couldn’t have the one he deserved. If our lives had been reversed, I’d want Jason to have a good life, and I think he’d want that for me too.”
Wild unbuckled his seatbelt and moved closer to me. “You can have both, Jax. You don’t have to give up your family.”
“Do you miss your parents?”
His eyes fell to our hands, his fingers toying with mine as he cleared his throat. “I want to tell you I don’t. But yeah… sometimes I do.”
I lifted one of my hands and raised his chin with my thumb. Brushing my knuckles across his cheek, I asked, “Do you think you’ll ever talk to them again?”
“No.” He pressed his back against the seat. “I figured they loved me, and they’d get over the disappointment of not being able to live out the heteronormative fantasy they’d planned for me.” His jaw pulsed as his grip on my hand tightened. “But when my book went public, and my sexuality was written for the whole world to see, I became an embarrassment instead of a son.”
“You’re not an embarrassment.”