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“Oh.” Garrett’s face cleared of suspicion, and he dropped his crossed arms. “Well, yeah, I figured. I know you haven’t seen him in a while, and for some strange reason I can’t begin to understand, you two are close.”
The words were out of Maxwell’s mouth before he could stop them. “You don’t mind?”
“Why would I—” Garrett started to laugh but then suddenly caught himself. He looked at Maxwell seriously, and it was Maxwell’s turn to cross his arms, knowing Garrett was seeing more than Maxwell meant to show. “I don’t mind, Maxwell. I don’t control you or who your friends are, and I wouldn’t want to.”
Maxwell’s hands shook, and he locked them around his biceps to try to stop them. “Right. I know that.”
He did. He did know that.
Garrett stared at him for a second longer, as though to make sure Maxwell had really heard him, and then smiled. “Besides, this game is over anyway.”
He turned back to the table and, in a few quick, frankly impressive moves, slotted every last one of his remaining balls into the pockets.
Maxwell gaped and then let out a surprised laugh. “And here I thought you might let me win.”
“Not a chance.” Garrett laughed his loud laugh and took the pool cue from Maxwell’s hands. “I respect you far too much to do that.”
Maxwell let their fingers brush as he handed the stick over. “I know.”
“Good.” Garrett hesitated beside him for a few seconds, close enough for Maxwell to smell him. He wanted to ask… Maxwell swallowed, and his palms itched. He wanted to ask Garrett if he could see him later, alone, just the two of them, somewhere safe and private, but he couldn’t quite make his mouth form the words, and before he could, Garrett stepped back. “Go see your friend, Maxwell. I’ll still be here later if you want me.”
He did. He did want him.
“Right.” Maxwell wished he could just get the words out like a normal person. “I’ll see you later, Garrett.”
Garrett’s dimpled smile as he turned away managed to ease Maxwell’s crippling frustration enough that by the time Maxwell made his way to the bar beside Sebastian, he was no longer drowning in self-loathing, and he smiled sheepishly at Sebastian’s accusing scowl.
“You play pool now, do you?” Sebastian leaned back against the bar with both elbows propped up on it. His new blond body had the tanned skin of a country boy, but he still spoke with his city accent.
Maxwell shrugged. “It’s what Garrett likes.”
“Yeah, but you like darts.” Sebastian pointed at him with the hand that held his glass of liquor. As a fellow torvar, Sebastian could drink anyone but Maxwell under the table. But unlike Maxwell, he enjoyed doing it.
“No, you like darts.” Maxwell rolled his eyes and accepted the glass Sebastian had taken from Jun and shoved into his hands.
Sebastian narrowed his eyes at him. “Mm-hmm.” He took a swig of his drink and pushed off the bar. “Well, speaking of. Colin has left me to go chat up some girl that fell to pieces when he was taken prisoner, so you’re up to play me.”
Maxwell huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Lead the way then.”
Sebastian threaded through the crowd to the corner they’d managed to rearrange to fit the dartboard and the clear line of sight it needed—plenty far enough from the pool table to avoid territorial disputes. Once they’d gotten away from the bulk of the people crowded around the bar, Sebastian dropped his voice to a quieter and less flippant tone. “I wanted to talk to you alone anyway.”
Maxwell took a deep breath and nodded. The instincts he’d developed over the years told him to run as Sebastian encroached upon his secrets, but he fought them down. “So did I.”
Sebastian took them all the way to the board in the far corner of the room and grabbed the darts. “Kurt Buck.”
Maxwell flinched and nodded.
Sebastian didn’t move out to the throwing line, keeping them in the corner with its higher level of privacy. “He’s why you don’t trust men.”
Maxwell’s fingers spasmed around his cup. “I never said I don’t trust men.”
“You never had to.” Sebastian twisted one of the darts around in his hand. “Do you remember how hard you tried to warn me off Leon?”
“I was worried about you.” Maxwell settled his shoulders down, already hating this conversation. But he couldn’t be alone with this anymore. “Kurt and I… We… He….” Maxwell scowled and took a small sip of the burning alcohol Sebastian had given him as he fought his words. “We were together, and we shouldn’t have been. I loved him, and I shouldn’t have.”
Sebastian nodded slowly. Then he put both hands on Maxwell’s shoulders and squeezed. “Firstly, fuck him. Alright? Whatever the fuck happened wasn’t your fault.”
Maxwell just shook his head and took another drink. Why did people keep saying that? Garrett and Sebastian—they were both so quick to clear him of responsibility for his own decisions, but they weren’t there, and they didn’t understand. Yes, fuck Kurt, he could get behind that. He wished the man had died in that crash like he’d always thought. But none of this would have happened if Maxwell hadn’t been such a vulnerable, love-struck idiot.
