“Look, Harvey, you seem curious. Have you ever, you know, been with another man?”
“No.” His answer was firm, his eyes now on me, pinning me to the spot. “Sex with men is wrong, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not. Far from it.”
Finally, some of the pieces fell into place. The therapy he’d mentioned, the way he’d pulled back from my touch at the bar last night.
“It’s not right. It can’t be.” He scratched at his wrist, rubbing it repeatedly. He was going to hurt himself, but I realised that was the point.
I grabbed his hand. “Harvey, stop.”
He looked at me again, tears in his eyes. “If it’s not wrong, why do I feel this way?”
I had no answer for him, and possibly never would. He needed a friend more than ever, whether he knew it or not, and I vowed to be that person.
Was I out of my depth? Possibly, but no way was I letting him suffer alone. He’d done that for long enough.
Chapter 9
Harvey
What the fuck was I doing? I’d let him get too close to me, and now I’d spilt my biggest secret in a matter of an hour. I’d never been so candid before, not even with my therapists, but somehow, he seemed like someone I could trust. He had a kind face, and maybe it was talking to him in the flesh and not just on a computer screen. Maybe talking to a man made the difference. Who knew?
I’d have told him everything if he’d asked.
No one had taken the time to ask me about my life, although I’d not been forthcoming. What made him different from Ed?
I wasn’t attracted to Ed, for a start. He was friendly and optimistic, whereas Killian was friendly but compassionate. He’d known I self-harmed without me having to tell him. Only my therapist knew that.
I looked down at our joined hands, his fingers full of rings, mine bare. We were so different, so why did I feel such a connection to him?
“Look, I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through. Fuck, Harvey, I’ve got some shit of my own to deal with, but I won’t let you deal with it alone. And you’ve been alone for a long time, I’m guessing.”
“Four years,” I whispered.
“A long time to have no one to talk to. Friends are the ships that keep us afloat, especially when the seas get rough.”
“I have a therapist.” I gripped his hand tighter, not wanting him to let go. The roughness of his hand and the calluses on his fingers made everything real. I’d never held a man’s hand before.
Despite having loving parents, Dad was never the affectionate one; that was left to Mum. He’d give me a hug now and again, but his love had always been reserved for her.
“They can help you. I don’t have that skill, but I can offer you friendship, a friend to talk to, a shoulder to cry on. I’m not asking for anything you’re not willing to offer.”
How long had it been since I’d had a genuine friend? Someone I could rely on to be there when times got tough. Even at school, I’d been a lonely kid. My parents and Grandma had been my world. I’d never really fit in, always thinking I was different.
Filling the silence, Killian spoke again. “There’s no pressure, Harvey. If you don’t want to, you just have to say no, and I’ll walk away. No questions asked.”
Why did I think that was a lie? I didn’t know him well, but from what I’d seen and heard, he wouldn’t give up easily.
He continued, “If you need time to think, then give me a call when you’re ready. I’ll not push ya.”
Take what’s being offered. You’re unlikely to get the chance again.
He wasn’t offering sex or anything more, from what I could tell. Why shouldn’t I say yes to having a friend?
“You know, I think I’d like a friend.”
He pulled me into a hug and squeezed. “Thank fuck you said that. I really think we could be good friends. I need one as much as you do. Things have been… difficult since moving here. We can commiserate together.”