The bedroom door opened and my enthusiasm waned at the fallen look on Bryce’s face. Just minutes ago, we were lying in bed ready to fall into a post-coital coma, and now he shuffled across the room as if he’d just been given bad news. Fuck.
“What’s going on?” I asked. I lifted the sheet so Bryce could join me and turned off the television. Whether or not he’d admit to it, Bryce needed me.
“I have to go back to Portland.” His tone was flat and lifeless. My stomach churned, and I buried my face in his neck so he wouldn’t see my disappointment.
“When?” I asked, not wanting to hear the answer. Now the guilt crept in and I thought about pausing the conversation until Drew came home.
“Sunday,” he responded. “That was Mike Borgwardt. He’s scheduled a meeting for eight-thirty Monday morning and wants me to be there.”
“Did he say anything about your transfer request?” As much as I knew in my gut that Bryce wasn’t coming back once he got on the plane, I couldn’t give up. Not now. Not when I was finally admitting that I’d fallen for both men.
Bryce shook his head and stared out the windows on the far side of the room. “I asked him and all he’d say is that he’d received the request and we’d talk Monday.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” I argued. “If you’re going to talk about it Monday, why not just do it over the phone and save money?”
“We both know why…” Bryce stopped himself from saying anything further. As we laid there, I wished it were possible to get back the high from earlier. Instead, I could practically feel Bryce pulling away from me.
Chapter 24
Sunday morning was somber for many reasons. We’d been careful to keep our conversations and speculation about my return to Portland behind closed doors, but Cody wasn’t stupid. He knew something big was going on even though he didn’t ask questions. Drew and I had driven to my apartment Saturday afternoon to pack my clothes. Refusing to believe this was it, Eric made room in his closet for my stuff. I complied rather than argue, because if nothing else it meant he wanted me to find my way back here. And I would. Somehow.
After lunch on Sunday, Cody sat down at the dining room table and borrowed Drew’s laptop to finish a final project for his Sociology class. As I watched him flipping back and forth between his notes, textbook, and different websites, I vowed to do whatever I could because Cody was a prime example of why what we did mattered. Less than a year ago, he was living on the streets and had given up on his dreams. Now, he was an honor roll student who’d managed to take as many classes as he could to ensure he’d graduate on time. He wouldn’t have that without Pot of Gold, and I wasn’t about to fail him.
“Whatcha thinking about?” Drew asked as he leaned over the back of the couch to hug me.
I turned and offered him a wan smile. The sexual energy between the three of us had cooled considerably since Friday night’s phone call. Feeling Drew’s arms draped down my chest reminded me how much I would miss these casual moments.
“I can’t shake the feeling that being sent back to Portland is only the tip of the iceberg,” I admitted to him.
Drew hopped over the back of the couch and curled into my side. “You can’t think like that. Aren’t you the one who kept telling me it was pointless to dwell on the bad shit that could happen?”
“You’re right.” What I didn’t tell him was that there was a difference between obsessing over what could go wrong and admitting what I knew was insurmountable odds. Every month, the center’s bank account became a deeper shade of red. Most recently, it seemed to be a deep crimson, not dissimilar to the blood most of us poured into keeping the doors open and the heat turned on. No matter how I’d tried to streamline, it felt as though every issue I resolved uncovered two more and it was hard to stay positive when facing such odds.
“I know I am,” Drew quipped. “Besides, it’s not worth being upset because you’re going to be back here in just over two weeks. To some people that might seem like a long ass time, but in our world, it’s nothing. It’s probably a good thing you’re going back because that way we have a trial run.”
“A trial run?” I parroted, glancing over to Eric, who was now listening intently to our conversation.
“Yeah. Two months after Christmas, I’ll be on my way down to Arizona for spring training,” Drew pointed out. “And unless you and Eric plan to relocate temporarily, which is a bad idea for multiple reasons, that means the two of you are going to be back here for those four weeks without me.”
“You’re assuming I’ll get the transfer,” I reminded him. Eric was growing frustrated by Drew’s inability to admit there was a chance my request would be denied. Even when I’d told them I would consider other options if Mr. Borgwardt tried to deny me, he’d insisted that wouldn’t be necessary. He claimed it was all part of his effort to have a more positive outlook on life, but it felt more like a bad case of denial.
“You will,” Drew responded firmly.
Eric snatched his keys off the kitchen counter. “I hate to break this up, but if we don’t get going, you’re going to miss your flight.”
Drew wrapped his arms tighter around my waist. “That sounds like a damn good idea to me. Tell Borgwardt that you missed your flight and he’ll have to reschedule. For never.”
He slid his hand over my thigh. He forced his way between my legs as he moved back toward my groin. “Mmm, as enticing as that sounds, I’m afraid I have to go,” I said regretfully. “But as you said, I’ll be back as soon as I can and then you can show me how much you missed me.”
I bit down on the corded tendon of Drew’s neck and he writhed in my grasp. It may be cruel for me to toy with him knowing there was no time to finish what I was starting, but I felt it only right that he be uncomfortable as well. It was his fault for trying to convince me to miss my flight in favor of getting naked and sweaty with them tonight.
Drew stood and followed me to the door. He grabbed my bag off the floor and started walking toward the car. After throwing it into the trunk with more force than necessary, he turned and threw his arms around my neck. “You’d better fucking come back.”
The gruff tone in Drew’s voice choked me up. It told me that no matter how much he tried playing off my leaving, he was hurting, too. We all were. I held my arm out and Eric joined our embrace.
“No matter what happens when I get back to Portland, I will be back,” I promised them. I couldn’t leave without both of them knowing how I felt. “I know I was the one who suggested we all start fucking around and swore it didn’t have to become anything, but it did. You two became everything to me and I couldn’t help but fall in love. Now, I know that home is where you are. I won’t stay away longer than necessary.”
Drew was the first to break down. He looked out over the water, trying to hide the way his eyes glistened with emotion, but I saw. It wasn’t a surprise. I’d noticed every time he opened his mouth to share his feelings, only to silence himself to be spared the pain if we didn’t feel the same way. I felt his love in the casual touches when we passed in the hall and the way he burrowed into my chest when he slept. His feelings were clear, even if he tried to hold back for whatever reason.
“You’d better have your ass back here for Christmas,” Eric warned me. “You were the one who said moving in wasn’t a small step. Just remember that because your stuff is here, even when you’re not. Get home when you can.”
I curled my fingers around the back of Eric’s neck and drew him in for a passionate kiss. I savored the firmness of his lips, the faint trace of coffee on his tongue, the musky smell he exuded after working out. I then turned and gave Drew a final kiss before I left, steadfastly refusing to say goodbye to them. This was a trial run, as Drew called it, and by this time next year, we would be pros at watching him leave while we stayed behind.