Page 29 of Love Hate

“We went to high school together,” I reminded him. “Am I only allowed to have one friend?”

“I just feel like a priest is a weird choice for a bestie.”

“Mark…are you jealous of Andy?”

What the fuck was happening right now? Why would he care who the hell I was spending time with?

I was already rattled from my conversation with Andy and I wasn’t in the mood to play more feelings versus logic with Mark. It was late, I was tired and I just wanted to go to bed.

“Why would I be jealous of some faggot priest?”

Anger bloomed in my chest and I jumped to my feet, striding across the room in three steps and gripping Mark’s t-shirt in one hand as I cocked the other one back.

“Don’t you ever fucking talk like that in front of me again,” I growled, swallowing thickly as I forced myself not to follow through on the punch I so desperately wanted to deliver to his face. “About anyone. Keep your homophobic bullshit to yourself. Do you fucking understand me?”

“Not really,” Mark admitted, knocking my hand away as he stood as well, glaring at me. “What the fuck do you care what I say? You’re not gay…are you?”

“Why does that fucking matter?” I shot back. “You don’t get to sit in my house and be a bigoted piece of shit. Keep your goddamned opinions to yourself.”

“It’s my house, too,” he snapped.

“Not if you keep running your mouth,” I warned him. “Don’t talk about him. Don’t even think about him. Or next time I’ll knock your teeth out.”

I turned and walked away from him, heading into my room and slamming my door shut before throwing myself face down on the mattress.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Honestly, I couldn’t care less what Mark thought of me. But for all of my many, many faults, I’d never been okay with slurs. And hearing him toss that word out so casually had made my blood boil.

He was my best friend. How was it possible that I didn’t know he walked around with hate like that in his heart? It made me fucking sick to my stomach.

And what if I was gay? Because at this point, based on how my body reacted to Andy, I was at the very least bi, even if it was only ever Andy who made me feel that way. Would Mark not want to be friends with me?

Did I care?

I rolled over on my back and stared up at the ceiling, pushing aside my conversation with Mark to relive the one I’d had with Andy instead.

He was right, which I hated. I didn’t think I could ever give up football. So how was it fair that I expected Andy to walk away from his own calling? And one that was so powerful?

I knew it was selfish to expect him to pick me over…well…God. And why would he even consider it? I didn’t understand what it was I was offering him. This was a novelty to me. An experiment to figure out what my feelings meant for me. He knew exactly who he was and what he wanted. Had always known.

It was unfair to think that he’d be willing to push that aside so I could see if I enjoyed sex with a man.

But it wasn’t just any man.

It was only him.

And fuck I wanted him. I wanted to experience everything with him. Which I could see probably wasn’t a very attractive offer from his side of the equation.

It was one thing to fuck up my own life. I couldn’t keep doing this to him. He was right. We had to stop.

I had to stop.

Before we ended up actually hurting each other.

Chapter Sixteen