My mother spent my childhood building my prison brick by brick. Julian Frost tore down the walls. And even though I’m terrified of standing in the open, I refuse to rebuild my cage.
I grab my keys, straighten my shoulders, and head for the door.
The air hits my face as I step outside, a cool breeze offering momentary relief from the storm inside my head. Crossroads is only a couple of blocks away, and I decide to walk.
Streetlamps cast long shadows as I walk, my thoughts tumbling over each other. Julian. The Hunt. The claiming. My mother’s incessant voice grows fainter with each step, giving way to a strange sense of lightness.
When I push open the door to Crossroads, the familiar scent of beer and fried food wraps around me. Mike and Derek are already at our usual table, beers in hand.
“Well, look who decided to show up,” Mike grins, pushing a chair out with his foot.
Derek raises his glass. “The prodigal son returns.”
I slide into the chair, grateful when the waitress immediately brings a beer over.
“Where’ve you been, man?” Derek asks. “Haven’t seen you in like a week.”
“Busy,” I say, taking a long pull from my beer.
They exchange glances but don’t push it. The conversation shifts to safer topics—work, sports, the usual. Two women at the bar keep glancing our way, and Mike notices.
“Those ladies have been checking us out,” Mike nudges me. “The brunette’s cute, right up your alley.”
The old Elliot would have played along, would have forced himself to flirt with a woman he felt nothing for. But I can’t do it anymore. Julian’s words echo in my mind.
Let them see you.
“I’m not interested,” I say, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.
“Come on, man. When’s the last time you got laid?” Derek laughs.
I grip my beer bottle tighter. “I’m gay.”
The words hang in the air between us. I brace myself for disgust, for rejection.
Mike breaks the silence first. “Dude, I knew it. Remember when I mentioned the bartender? The way you looked at him last week.”
Derek blinks a few times, processing. Then he shrugs. “Well, shit. That explains so much.”
“You guys aren’t... mad?” I ask, unable to believe it’s this easy.
Mike claps me on the shoulder. “Mad? For you finally being honest? Hell no. Proud of you, man.”
“About damn time,” Derek adds, raising his glass. “To Elliot finally coming out of the closet.”
Mike takes a swig of his beer, curiosity written across his face. “So why now? You’ve been doing the whole straight act for forever.”
“Yeah,” Derek chimes in, leaning forward. “What finally cracked the fortress?”
I stare into my beer, watching the bubbles rise to the surface. My mind flashes to Julian—his piercing gaze, his commanding presence, the way he saw right through all my carefully constructed walls.
“I met someone,” I admit. “Someone who wouldn’t let me hide anymore.”
“No shit?” Mike’s eyebrows shoot up. “Like a boyfriend?”
The word sends a strange thrill through me. “I don’t know what to call it yet. It’s early. Complicated.” I take another drink. “But he saw the real me—the me I’ve been denying my whole life. And now that I’ve experienced that... I can’t go back to pretending.”
“Whoever this guy is,” Derek says, “I already like him. You seem different. Good different.”