A/N: Hello again everyone! I'm back with another new chapter!
Before we get started, I would like to thank everyone that read last chapter! I would also like to give a huge thank you to winterschild11, Guest, Side1ways, and RainbowDiamonds for reviewing!
I hope you all enjoy!
No good came from living in the past. If you were constantly obsessing over things that had already happened, there was no moving forward from them. There was no changing what happened. Just a constant battle of what ifs and should haves that served no other purpose other than to torture ourselves.
So why couldn't I just let go of the past when it came to Kendall?
We were being given a second chance in a way, and I just couldn't embrace it. Because I couldn't forgive him. Because I couldn't trust him not to hurt me again.
Days had passed since I'd last spoken to him. He'd been angry-and rightfully so-when he'd stormed out of my house Wednesday night. I didn't know why I'd behaved the way I did, and to say I was ashamed was an understatement. But I knew that my irrational behavior derived from many mixed emotions.
Anger and guilt at myself for not being honest with him seven years ago, anger at him for leaving in the first place and for also believing the lie so quickly. I had buried so many emotions over the years, and seeing him just brought all of those feelings to the surface and it was just...too much.
I was also angry at all the years we'd lost. Time that we would've spent together had things taken a different turn. If we'd both made different decisions.
Usually, he would've tried calling or texting me by now. It was Saturday and still no word from him...not that I'd reached out to him either, though.
"Want me to top off your coffee?" One of the waitresses at my parents' diner asked.
"Please." I said, offering her a smile, even though I felt the farthest thing from happy.
I had stopped working at the diner after I'd left for college, but I still went there each weekend like clockwork to have breakfast. In fact, my whole life had become routine. I taught English Monday through Friday. Every evening, I graded papers and worked on the next week's lesson plans. I hit the gym about four days a week. On the weekends, I came into the diner and then went home afterward. Sometimes I'd go grocery shopping.
There was no spontaneity or mixing up my routine. My life was predictable. Boring.
Strangely enough, I hadn't considered my life boring until Kendall came back into it and I saw a glimpse of what I was missing. Excitement. Love. That spark of something new that made me look forward to waking up every day.
But was experiencing that kind of excitement worth the pain that would follow? Because there would be pain...of the heartbreak variety.
Kendall had made it clear he had no intentions on moving back here or staying, and I doubted a long distance relationship would ever work out between us. Not with all the people-men and women-that were throwing themselves at him every chance they got.
And yeah, that was my other issue. Jealousy.
It was such an awful trait to have, but I couldn't control it. I hadn't known I even had it until a few weeks ago. Mainly because the only serious relationship I'd ever had had been with Kendall. I'd dated guys since him, but I hadn't cared enough about any of them to be bothered by infidelity or them getting bored and moving on.
When it'd just been me and Kendall back in the day, I hadn't had to worry about whether he'd cheat on me or find someone more on his level. We'd been on an equal playing field so to speak. We'd had a direction in life, and our futures had been connected.
I felt insecure compared to him now. He was a huge hockey star and a freaking model and I was a high school teacher from a small town in Arkansas. In no universe would that ever work.
The sooner Kendall left Willow, the better in my opinion. Then we could both get back to our uncomplicated lives.
After I finished my food, I took my plate to the back of the restaurant and placed it in the sink. Mom was in the office, and I tapped on the door before walking in. I talked with her for a bit before Dad came in.
"Can you help out back?" He asked. His cheeks were pink from the cold and he was out of breath. "Beau didn't show up today to help unload supplies and I can't-"
"Dad, you don't need to do that kind of work." I said, standing up. What I didn't say was that he didn't need to over exert himself because he wasn't in the best of health. He'd thrown out his back last year. "Sit down with mom and I'll go finish up."
Once outside, I finished unloading the truck before carrying the boxes into the storage room. One of the cooks helped me sort out everything, and with both of us doing it, it didn't take too long. It was busy work that kept my mind from wandering to topics it shouldn't be wandering to.
However, when I finally got home, all I could think about was Kendall.
And since he'd been in my house, I couldn't look at the kitchen table without remembering him sitting in the chair as he ate the meal I'd cooked for him. I couldn't look at my bed without remembering him beneath me, staring up at me as I straddled his hips. I couldn't even go into my home office without recalling how he'd try to seduce me on the desk with that crazy roleplay thing.
I needed a night out. Something to break up my routine and just let loose for once. Maybe it'd help me get him out of my damn head.
XxX
Later that night, I was at a bar in a bigger city about thirty minutes away and telling myself that I'd made a good decision...even though I felt the exact opposite. I was in my mid-twenties, but I felt like I was ancient compared to the crowd getting shitfaced around me.
Since when did I become an old man who couldn't party. I'd done more partying in college than I cared to admit, yet I felt so out of place.
Kendall would fit in here, I told myself as I saw three frat-type guys doing shots a few feet down the bar from me. Ugh. Stop. The point of this night is to forget about him.
"What are you having?" The bartender asked. She was young, probably around the same age as me, and had long black hair with red streaks. She had kind of a rocker vibe going on, but I had to admit, she was pretty.
"Do you have Angry Orchard?"
She chuckled before grabbing a bottle and popping the cap. "Didn't take you for the hard cider type."
"Yeah, I'm just full of surprises." I said with indifference, handing her my card to pay.
"Ah, I know that look." She said after swiping my card and returning it to me. She placed the Angry Orchard in front of me before leaning against the counter. "Girlfriend troubles."
"Hate to be the one to break it to you, but you're wrong again." I pointed out with maybe just a bit too much bitch in my tone.
Surprisingly, she grinned. "So some dude has you sitting at my bar and being a bitter old Betty, huh?"
"You can say that." I said, finally letting the facade slip and smiling a little. I scanned the room, seeing a large group of college-aged guys at a table in the center, drinking and being unreasonably obnoxious. A couple were dry humping each other in one dark corner of the room, and they were really going at it too. I rolled my eyes before turning back to her. "Does it ever get old playing shrink to all these drunkards?"
"Drunkards?" She asked, cocking a brow. "What, are you some old hick from the fifteen hundreds? No one says that. But since you brought it up, you're kind of included in that category."
"I beg to differ." I stated before taking a drink. The beer was both tart and sweet, and it'd been a while since I'd had one. I made a face at it before going in for another drink. "To be a drunkard, I'd actually have to be drunk."
"Well, you keep sipping on your little cider and you'll get there eventually."
"Are you mocking me?" I asked, setting the bottle down and arching a brow at her. "Isn't the customer always right?"
"Not when said customer is acting like an ass. No."
"Touche." I said with a curt not of me head. "I'm not always an asshole by the way. He just makes me so crazy."
The bartender walked a few feet away to grab the discarded shot glasses from earlier and placed them below the bar before coming back to me. "And what did this guy do to get you to leave the comfort of your home-which I assume is full of books and probably fancy art and shit, Mr. Scholar-and come out drinking when you obviously don't drink much?"
She was was more perceptive than I'd given her credit for.
"Honestly?" I wrapped my hand around the bottle and fidgeted with it. "He didn't do anything. All he's tried to do is get close to me and make up for lost time. It's me who's the asshole in this equation. He makes me crazy because I'm in love with him, but I know it won't ever work."
"How do you know?" She asked before looking toward the end of the bar where that group of guys from earlier were now shoving each other around. "Godammit, hang on. Break it up, guys!"
She stood on her tiptoes and motioned to the bouncer, who was quick to act.
Since it was a small bar, there was only one bouncer, but his size alone was a good way to ward off threats. The man was a beast. He easily broke up the fight, and tossed one guy aside, who was still trying to get to the other guy.
Both drunken men were screaming obscenities at each other, and by the sound of it, one guy had apparently fucked the other's girlfriend or something. The group of them were kicked out, and I decided right then that I'd had enough of my night out and just wanted to go back home.
"Hey, Shakespeare." The bartender called to me just as I slid off the stool. "Not sure what the deal is with your man, but nothing is impossible. Before I opened this bar, I was told all the time-mostly by men-that a chick like me wouldn't be able to run this kind of place. I proved them wrong. So don't say it won't ever work. If it's meant to be, it'll find a way. Fate is funny like that."
"Thanks." I said before walking out, leaving my barely touched beer behind.
Fate. The word nudged something inside me.
Kendall and I used to talk a lot about fate. Just like we'd often discussed classic literature, the symbolic meanings of certain plays and poems, hockey, and happily ever after endings. In the late nights when I couldn't sleep, we'd talked about the meaning of life, soulmates, and all of that weird shit that most people never usually say out loud.
No topic was off-limits for us, though.
He'd said it had been fate that it was my blue crayon he'd tried to grab when we were in kindergarten. It was the time we'd met as well as the incident that had caused our first ever fight that then led to us being inseparable. I had said it'd been his only-child-syndrome that'd caused it, basically calling him spoiled.
And that circled back around to him calling it fate.
Once I was home, I changed into a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants and sat on the couch with a book. It was kind of late, but I wasn't tired. When nights like these struck, I'd read for hours and try to mentally exhaust myself so I could sleep.
I didn't suffer from full-blown insomnia, but there were times where it affected me worse than others. Sometimes it was hard to shut off my brain because I tended to obsess about things. Death being the main one. Which was the worst to die, how will the world end, and will I still be alive when it does? Even things that'd already happened and there was no changing them would haunt me, but for some infuriating reason, I still played the scenario out in my head over and over, trying to come up with different ways it could've ended.
"Sometimes you'd have trouble sleeping because you got into these mindsets where you obsessed over death and what happens when we die, so we'd stay up all night talking about anything and everything just to get your mind off it."
Guilt gnawed at my gut upon remembering Kendall's words from a few nights ago. He did know the real me, and I was mad at myself for telling him otherwise. I'd just tried to place the blame on him because I'd hoped it would help keep my distance and help me cope with everything.
But it only made me feel worse.
My phone sat on the coffee table in front of me, and I stared at it instead of at my book. Not even The Iliad, one of my all-time favorite stories, could distract my mind enough that night.
For all the heartache I'd been through with Kendall, there'd been more laughs and good times than anything else. Before we'd been lovers, we'd been best friends, and I missed him more than words could convey.
The years apart did nothing to ease that ache.
"Stop being a chickenshit and call him." I said to myself, aware of how nuts I sounded but whatever. Giving yourself pep talks was healthy.
But right as I grabbed the phone, my courage faded and I set it back down.
I would contact him.
Just not tonight.
I was disappointed in James. I thought that if I stepped back, he would take charge. That he'd try to reach out to me. His lack of doing so proved to me that he didn't care about me anymore, or at least proved he didn't care enough.
I'd been naive to think he'd still want me in that way after seven years apart.
He had wanted me for a bit, though. I could still feel his lips trailing down my neck, feel his hands roaming my body, and feel the weight of his body on mine. His taste was seared into my memory, as were his soft sighs and breathy moans.
We hadn't lost any spark in the bedroom. That was for sure. But when it came to us trying to figure out where we were headed for our future, everything had derailed.
It was ironic and even a bit comical that he was the English scholar who lived and breathed classic literature that practically screamed romance and true love, and yet I was the die-hard romantic out of the two of us.
He was the skeptic who questioned everything. Questioned life and love. And me.
Just because I was going back to Kansas City didn't mean I had to stop seeing him. It would probably be hard and take a lot of work, but I thought that it would be worth it in the end. But apparently, he didn't see it that way. He believed I was nothing but a damn man-whore who couldn't keep it in my pants, as if my fame had made me throw away all of my morals.
I'm sure he'd be surprised if he knew all the offers I'd turned down over the years. Way more than I ever gave in to.
"Have a great day, Mr. Knight." The teller at the bank said after handing me back my license.
That Monday had been busy. I'd had to go down to the bank and talk to them about the house, and then from there I'd had to get the deed transferred in my name. It was a bunch of crap I didn't feel like doing, because it was just further proof that I was alone in the world. Maybe a bit dramatic, but still true.
Since James was being a stubborn ass, there was no point in me sticking around town longer than necessary. So painful or not, I just wanted to get everything over with so I could leave.
As I got back into my car-which was technically the car I'd bought for Gramps a couple years ago-my phone rang, and as stupid as it was, my heart jumped at the possibility of it being a certain brown haired, glasses wearing, infuriating asshole who I still fucking loved regardless of everything.
Nope. Not him.
"Hey, V." I answered.
"Hey. I just got home from a shoot in Milan." Veronica said. Her accent was stronger, which told me she was worried or worked up about something. Her words tended to muddle together when she talked fast. "I saw the news of you grieving a loss. Your grandpa?"
I should've been surprised that the damn reporters had somehow figured out my private business, but after nearly four years of them prying into my personal life, nothing they did shocked me anymore.
It was a miracle that nothing had been leaked out about my sexuality as of yet. Jett and I had been good at keeping our relationship private, but still. Reporters and paparazzi were like leeches who would feed off anyone or anything to get a good story.
"Yeah." I answered, having to clear my voice afterward. "I'm back in my hometown getting it all taken care of before I head back."
"I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do?"
I smiled at her offer. "Nah, I'm okay. Thanks, though."
The media portrayed Veronica as a sexy vixen who was using me to further her own career, but that was the farthest thing from the truth. She genuinely cared about me, and I felt the same for her. We'd never slept together, no matter what the countless rumors said. I'd never come out and told her that I was gay, but she'd figured it out over time.
"Well if you do need me, you call. Okay?"
"Okay." I said, putting my seatbelt on and starting the car. "How was Milan?"
As she talked about the shoot and all of the sightseeing she did in Italy, I listened and drove through town.
I wasn't sure how much longer I'd be in Willow, but I needed more groceries. Ramen noodles wouldn't cut it anymore. The first thing I planned to do when I returned to Kansas was get back to the gym.
"I met someone." Veronica continued. "And before you judge me for it, just know it's over now. But it was some of the best days I'd had in a long while. I am far from a romantic, but he made me feel something I never had before."
"I'm not judging you, V. Love is tricky. When he heart finds what it wants, it's only a matter of time before it wins."
"Has your heart found what it wants?" She asked in a knowing tone.
"Yeah." I answered, tapping the top of the steering wheel with my free hand. "But like yours, it's over."
"Why?"
"Because his heart doesn't feel the same." I said, not having the energy anymore to keep pretending. "What about you?"
"Turns out he was married."
"Holy fuck. We both need to get drunk together the next time we're in the same city. Our luck is awful."
She laughed and I heard a faint popping in the background. "I am one step ahead of you. Just opened wine and I plan to drink as much as I can before bed."
"Right." I said after checking the time. "It's midnight there, huh?"
"Yeah, a little after." Veronica answered. "So, tell about this man who refuses you. Is he crazy or just stupid?"
"Neither." I said with a laugh. "He's just stubborn. And hurt." After the light turned green, I drove a ways up the street before turning into the grocery store parking lot. "Are you really not fazed that I'm gay?"
"Oh, Kendall." She replied, and I could just imagine her shaking her head. ""I've suspected you were ever since we spent the night together in Paris. You were drunk and you wanted to cuddle with me, but you never tried to feel me up. Not to sound vain, but no single straight guy would've passed up that opportunity, especially not drunk. And since you never mentioned having a girlfriend…" She trailed off. "I'm just sad that you felt like you couldn't tell me sooner."
"It's scary." I said, finding an empty spot and parking. "I hate hiding who I am, but I don't know if I'm ready to make it public. When I do, it'll be on my terms."
"The world is a much more accepting place now, love." She pointed out.
"Not in sports." I countered.
"Stupid men and their balls." Veronica said. "They slap each other on the ass all the time. I do not see the problem."
I snorted.
"I gotta go, V. Let's find a time to meet up soon, okay?"
"Alright." She said. "Take care of yourself."
I got out of the car and began walking into the store. The end of the day in January was warmer than average, and I was thankful for it. I had on a light jacket, so it still wasn't as warm as I wanted it to be, but it was appreciated nonetheless.
One of the first things I saw when entering the store was my face on the front cover of a magazine. It was some tabloid about me having a secret lover or something.
I rolled my eyes and grabbed a shopping cart.
Seeing my face on TV, in magazines, and sometimes billboards was still kind of weird, but the glamor of it had mostly washed away. I'd never wanted to be famous, I'd just wanted to play hockey. I liked the attention and being in the spotlight when it pertained to my abilities on the ice, but the prying into my private life thing got old.
I went down the aisles and grabbed anything I thought I'd like to eat, trying to keep the ingredients kind of simple since I couldn't really cook that well. My cooking skills included grilled chicken and steamed vegetables. That was about it.
I was nearly done with my shopping before someone recognized me.
"Hey, you're that hockey player, aren't ya?" An older man asked, pointing at me. "The one all over the TV."
"Yes, sir." I said. He looked sort of familiar, but I'd met so many people over the years that it was a little hard to place them all. "I grew up here."
"Yeah, I know who you are now." He said, narrowing his eyes a bit. "You and that Diamond boy used to break into my backyard and steal apples from my tree. That one time when I caught ya, y'all threw 'em at my back window."
I smirked.
Fuck, me and James used to be hellions.
We used to be every adult's worst nightmare, especially if we'd been hyped up on sugar. We'd been a packaged deal. Wherever he went, so did I, and vice versa. Most of the hooligan type behavior had been my idea, basically making me a bad influence on the quiet and shy kid James used to be. His parents had loved me, though, and his dad had often thanked me for being a great friend to his son.
But I had been the grateful one. James had made me a better person.
"I apologize for that, Mr. Henderson." I replied as I attempted for force the smile from my face, knowing exactly who he was now.
"You were lucky I was such good friends with your grandpa." He said. "Otherwise I woulda called the law on ya." His face fell, causing the wrinkles around his eyes to become more pronounced. "It's such a shame about what happened to old Bill. He was a good man."
"Yes, he was." I responded as my throat got a bit tight. "Well, uh, it was nice seeing you, Mr. Henderson."
Continuing to the checkout, my mood had drastically changed. I was no longer irritated by pesky journalists and ridiculous media. My mind was going down memory lane, remembering shopping at this same store as a teenager and even as a young kid. It had changed a little, but not by much.
After paying for the groceries, I loaded them in the car before driving back home. As I drove past a narrow dirt road, my vision blurred, and I had to wipe my eyes on my jacket sleeve.
James and I had gone exploring down that road too many times to remember. As kids, we'd walked that path, threw rocks at those trees, and challenged the other in racing games. We'd imagined our own little world and pretended we were Frodo and Sam on our way to destroy the one ring of power. We'd pretended to be pirates searching for lost treasure, and usually that treasure was a weird shaped rock or a dirty nickel someone had dropped out there.
As we'd gotten older, it'd been the road we'd driven own, pulled off to the side, and explored each other's bodies. Where we'd said our first I love you.
Where we promised to spend forever together.
I'd give anything to go back in time and do it all over. To refuse the USC offer and take the University of Arkansas one instead. I was certain I would've still made it to the pros no matter what college I'd attended. Attending USC had only made it a little less difficult.
If I could go back...I'd choose him.
XxX
Thursday afternoon, I'd just come back in from a quick run when I'd decided it was finally time to go through Grandpa's things. I'd put it off for too long. Over the last few days, I had decided to stay in Willow just a bit longer to fix up some areas of the house that needed repair, and then I intended on listing it for sale.
The decision hadn't been an easy one to make, but if coming back here taught me anything it was that staying in the past was dangerous. I wouldn't be living in Grandpa's house, and no matter how many good memories I had here, none of them would bring him back.
It was time I let it go. Let go of the house, my regrets, and of James.
I'd just gone into the kitchen to pour a glass of water when there was a knock at the door. The house wasn't visible from the main road, so not many uninvited people ever showed up. With the exception of a few Jehovah's witnesses that didn't seem to have any kind of limit to the lengths they'd go to spread the word.
I was already practicing my 'hail Satan' speech as I got to the door and opened it. But when I saw who was on the other side, I froze.
"Hey." James said, putting his hands in his hoodie pocket and looking awkward as ever. "Can I come in?"
Done! So yeah, this chapter was mostly Kendall and James reflecting and coming to terms with everything seperately, and it looks like another talk is coming. But which way is this one going to go? We also had an appearance from a certain someone who I'm pretty sure you all know based on the description. :P
I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter, as well as if you happened to have a favorite part/moment!
The next chapter will be up soon and will pretty much pick up right where this one left off.
Until then!
-Epically Obsessed