Page 75 of All That History
Flynn looked up.“You know I don’t think that.I’m not talking about anyone else but myself, Oli.Come on.”
I knew he wasn’t, knew I was being unfair - intentionally misinterpreting his words - only the frustration wouldn’t die down.Like my brain needed to at least attempt its old defenses, convince itself I wasn’t totally adrift in the way it felt when I was with him.
“Staying there, living there, it doesn’t mean you’re a failure.”
His stare sharpened.“I never said it did.”
Frustrated, at him, but just as much at myself, I turned away.The silence stretched out.
“Why are you so angry at me?”
I sucked in a breath, to say something sarcastic and bitter.Only there was something in his tone which gnawed at me, which stopped the sharp words in my throat.
“Do you think we’d have dated; if you’d stuck around, I mean?”
I wasn’t sure where my question came from, why my brain had retreated there after deciding it couldn’t give in to knee-jerk resentment.
“Because we were the only two gay guys in town, you mean?”Flynn raised an eyebrow.
I shook my head.“I was working under the assumption that we actually found each other attractive.Not just convenient.But, if I’m wrong...”
“You’re not,” he said, quickly.“And I don’t know.It would’ve required both of us pulling our respective heads out of our asses, first.”
“You mean like actually talking, rather than just glowering at each other?”
He chuckled.“You do most of the glowering, I think.I was referring more to the fact that we’d have actually needed to tell each other we liked guys.”
“Oh, that.”I knew he wasn’t wrong, which was the most annoying part.“I mean, can you imagine what people would say?If we’d started dating.”
“Would it matter?”The look on Flynn’s face suggested the question was sincere.
“Some people would have a problem.”
“Maybe.”
“And even the ones who didn’t, or who said they didn’t, you just know they’d be all up in our business.”
“Small town life,” Flynn said, smiling softly.It didn’t sound like he thought the idea of that was entirely awful.
“And with all that, if it goes wrong, where do you go?When it’s on your doorstep?”
His forehead creased, the very slightest frown.“I mean, you move somewhere else.Try again.”
I glared at my coffee.“Run away, then.Admit defeat.”
His laugh was loud, louder than I expected.It dragged my stare up, to meet his eyes.
“Your idea of defeat is leaving.Mine is coming back.”
“Funny,” I said, sourly.
He sighed.“Not really.”
I had nothing to say to that.Was rescued by breakfast arriving.“This looks good.”
“Told you so.”
“Shut up and eat your damn food,” I scolded him, then took my own advice.
