Page 140 of The Build-a-Boyfriend Project

“Go, before Michael calls building security on you.”

Eli can’t stop himself from smiling, managing to forget for nearly a full second that the hardest part of the day isn’t over yet. He strides back toward his desk, grabbing his bag off the back of his chair.

He nearly slips the company iPad and Apple Pencil into his bag as well. It wouldn’t be the first time property isn’t returned to IT, but he decides against it. He doesn’t want anything of Vent to linger in his apartment. He’s done with this chapter of his life. For better or for worse.

Now he has to come clean.

* * *

Eli calls Peter a total of twenty times.

Six times while he waits for the bus, eleven more times on the bus, and three times on the short four-block walk from the stop to the front of Peter’s apartment. He only leaves one voicemail.

“Hey, Peter. Please call me when you get this. It’s important.”

It’s all he knows how to say. He doesn’t want Peter to hear anything else unless it’s coming directly from him. Not even through his phone.

He rounds the block, soaked thanks to the rain that’s now pouring down, seeing the gate to Peter’s building out of the corner of his eye. He could turn around right now. Block Peter on everything, hide from him for the rest of his life and leave Peter with nothing.

But Keith was right. Eli is a coward. And he has been for a long time.

So it’s time to fix that.

He presses on the doorbell again and again and again. He pulls out his phone, rain splattering the screen the same way it’s covered his glasses, his hot breath fogging them up, hair hanging limp in his face.

There’s still no answer, and Eli lets his head fall against the iron gate. If Peter isn’t here, then he doesn’t know where he could be. He doesn’t know where to go to tell Peter the truth.

He doesn’t know what to do.

“Eli?”

Eli hears the voice from behind, whipping around to face Peter dressed in his climbing clothes, an empty cup of iced coffee in hand.

“You’re soaking wet.”

“Hey . . .” Eli’s voice manages to cut through the rain.

“Everything okay? I thought we were getting dinner?” Peter asks him, as if Eli’s world hasn’t been ending for the last hour.

“About that . . .” Eli starts to say.

“Come inside. You can shower and then we can head out if you want.” Peter steps closer, pulling his keys free of his pocket. “Or we can eat here? I don’t have many groceries, but maybe we could order something?”

“Peter, I came here because I need to talk to you.”

“Okay, well, we can talk. Let’s go inside.” Peter swings the gate open, letting himself and Eli into the small apartment entrance. “Is everything okay?”

“No, it’s not,” Eli says, knowing that this can’t wait, knowing that if he allows himself to step into Peter’s apartment, he’ll never want to admit the truth.

“Are you all right? Did something happen at work?” Peter asks over the echoes of the rain that’s starting to fall again outside. Eli hates the careful nature of his voice.

“I fucked up,” Eli tells him, plain and simple.

Except there’s nothing simple about this.

Peter stares, obviously confused. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad, we can—”

“You know the article I was writing about you? It wasn’t what I said it was. Well, it was, but it wasn’t.”