Page 36 of Jealous Guy

“This is something new for you, isn’t it?”

His Adam’s apple rides up in his throat, gets stuck halfway, and then jerks down quickly.

My jaw drops, and pieces of a large puzzle fall slowly into place. “Holy shit, Orion! How long have you known?”

The traces of annoyance on his face fade and are replaced with apprehension. “I don’t know exactly… It’s not really one of those things you can put a time and date on…”

Something tight winds itself around my temples and squeezes hard. “Well, guess then.”

A single shoulder rises halfheartedly, and his eyes skid off mine. He’s quiet for so long that I figure he’s decided not to answer. To be honest, I’d understand if he didn’t. I’m being a massive dick right now. I know it, but I don’t know how to stop. A lot of the emotion I’ve been feeling over the past few days has come to the surface at once, and it’s proving harder than it should be to contain.

I stare him down until he finally looks up. It’s a charged look from my side that I try to soften, though I’m not sure I’m successful. I am sure that from his side, Orion doesn’t try to soften his expression at all. His eyes are harder than I’ve ever seen them.

His chin dips, not in submission, but in challenge. The moment drags out until I regret asking the question.

His jaw works, flexing and relaxing until he’s finally ready to answer. “I’ve known since I was fifteen.”

His words land like a bolt of lightning that makes no sense. Like words that are wiped off a slate before I’ve had time to read them. It takes ages for them to morph into something I understand.

“Since you were fifteen,” I parrot, astounded. “Since you were fifteen?” My voice turns loud and unpleasant.

I’m hurt and upset, angry too, but most of all, I feel betrayed. There’ve been a million opportunities for him to tell me. He’s talked about girls as if he’s into them for years. Years. There’s no other way of looking at it. Orion hasn’t been honest with me.

“How could you have known something like this about yourself for so long and not told me?”

He flinches, and a bright-red flush travels up his neck and settles across his cheeks. There’s tension everywhere. In his shoulders. In his lips. In his fists. His entire body looks like it’s braced for an attack.

I step back, dimly aware that I’ve overstepped and acutely aware that in all the time I’ve known Orion, I’ve never seen him like this.

“Because this isn’t about you,” he spits, pausing for emphasis between each word. “This is about me. This is my fucking life. My fucking story. And I wasn’t ready to tell you.”

With that, he strides out of the kitchen, turns down the hall, and closes his bedroom door harder than he ever has in all the time I’ve known him. The sound reverberates through the apartment and through me. My mind clears instantly, and I start to panic when I realize with absolute certainty that I’ve fucked up big time.

Orion is right. This is about him, not me. He doesn’t owe me an explanation about his orientation because I’m his friend. I’m in the wrong, and I need to make this right. Urgently.

I’ll grovel if I have to.

I sprint after him and knock softly on his door.

“Orion. O. Oh—”

An exasperated sigh slithers from his side of the door to mine. “I don’t want to talk to you right now, Jordan.”

Okay. Fair.

No talking.

I can grovel without talking.

I rush to my room and return with a pad of paper and a Sharpie.

I’m sorry, I scrawl on a sheet. I fold the page in half and push it under Orion’s door. He doesn’t react, so I write another one quickly.

I’m wrong, and you’re right.

I push that through too and press my ear against the door to see if I can hear paper rustling on the other side. Nothing.

This is about you, and I’m making it about me because I’m an insecure asshole.