“What?”
“He said working with you was magic.”
He sighed, the words stinging him, making him ache. “Okay, so firing him wasn’t the right call. Fine. I didn’t understand…. I didn’t think it meant as much to him as it did to me. Firing him was impulsive. Yes, maybe.” He sighed. “But nothing he did after that was right either.”
Colt was upset. Angry. He got that. And yes, probably rightfully upset. Upset enough to say some things that Kyle hoped Colt regretted, but that was a two-way street for sure. He hadn’t exactly been polite either.
But he wasn’t anyone’s booty call. Why would Colt punish him like that? His work was work; it wasn’t… them. They were heart and soul, rhythm and music, but all Colt wanted anymore was sex? That hurt the most. He could get that from anyone. That he didn’t understand at all.
“He cooked for your party.”
He had. Colt hadn’t just cooked—he’d rolled his sleeves up and worked his ass off. “His shrimp was amazing. I don’t know what to do, Timmy. But I love him. Maybe it was just too intense to keep up. Heishis music. I’m my dancing. Maybe we’re not meant to spend our energy on other people.”
But Colt had inspired him, energized him. So how could that be true?
Maybe he was just a selfish asshole.
“Am I an asshole, Timmy?” He dropped his head back in his chair.
“Everybody’s an asshole, man. Colt can’t be someone he’s not. He works harder and cleaner than anyone I know. He’s a machine. You know he never finished school, that he was homeless for, like, years? Maybe he… shit, what do I know?”
“I knew about school.” He’d assumed the rest, but Colt hadn’t spoken specifically about that. “You’re saying maybe he thinks I’m a snob? Maybe. I don’t know, either, Timmy. I just miss him.”
“He thinks you’re magical. Special. He believes in that.”
“Not enough to be honest with me. Not enough to stay and work it out.” He sighed. He was more confused now than he’d been before he’d started talking. He got it. He’d fucked up. Fine. Didn’t it take both of them to want to make things work? And he still didn’t understand how he could have done differently. He didn’t know how to put anything ahead of his dancing. Not even himself. He never had in his whole life. “I think I’m going to put that movie on like you suggested.”
He wasn’t, but he felt like crap and needed to get Timmy off the phone so he could cry about it.
“Okay, dude. Listen, I’ll check in with you again soon. Take care, okay? Don’t forget to eat.”
“No worries. Hit those waves hard. Thanks for calling, Timmy.”
He hung up the phone and stared at the dark screen sitting in his hand. God, he wanted to call Colt. He wished he had it in him to do it, but not today. Maybe he’d call tomorrow.
* * *
“Colt?Wherethe ever-loving fuck are you?” Nathan’s voice ripped through his eardrum, and he winced, jerking away from the sound. He blinked up, trying to remember where he was. He never worried when he woke up with Kyle, but that was all gone.
“Why you care?”
“Young man, you are frightening me. Where are you? I’ll come pick you up. I’ll buy you a plane ticket, anything you need.”
“I’m in a shelter. I’ve been playing.” He’d left the boys and hitchhiked to Houston. From there, the church bus brought him to Shreveport.
Now he was back in Louisiana, and….
“A shelter. What the actual fuck? You live like you’re desperate, honey. Why? You need more than what’s in your cash account? You got it. You work like a damn dog. I’m coming to get you. Now.”
“You don’t know where I am.” He smiled, though, because Nathan’s straightforward shit was familiar, direct. Family.
There was a long sigh on Nathan’s end of the phone. “Fine. You win. What’s the plan? Austin? Nashville? Back to New York?”
“I don’t know. I kinda… I think I fucked up bad, huh? I fell in love.”
“Oh, Colt! That’s lovely. In New York? Is that why you asked to stay so long? Wait… wait, honey. How is that fucking up? Are you not there? Oh, Colt. What happened?”
“I’m not made right.” That was the only answer he had. “He’s so fine, and I’m not.”