Chapter 73 Aitor
Aitor
For a split second, I didn’t understand what was happening.
Garrett’s hands were gripping my arms, his body shaking, his mouth suddenly against mine.
The kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t even really a kiss. It was desperate and clumsy, Garrett’s fingers gripping my arms like he needed something solid to hold on to.
Shock froze me in place.
Holly shit... Garrett had just kissed me.
“Garr,” I said quietly. “Look at me.”
He blinked slowly, like he was waking up from somewhere far away.
“It’s me,” I told him. “Aitor.”
For a second, he just stared.
Then confusion flashed across his face.
“Aitor?” His voice cracked. “I thought you were—”
He stopped himself, eyes open wide, swallowing the last word before it spilled out.
But he didn’t need to finish the sentence. The realization hit me as hard as it hit him.
Garrett hadn’t kissed me. He had thought I was Aslan!
A flash of anger shot through me, sharp and immediate. It burned hot for barely a second before it vanished just as quickly, because Garrett looked wrecked.
Completely wrecked.
His eyes were unfocused, his breathing uneven, his whole body trembling like he was barely holding himself together.
“Garr,” I said softly. “It's okay. I've got you.”
The words took a moment to land. I watched it happen in real time—the fog lifting, the awareness creeping back into his eyes. And then the horror.
Garrett pulled back like he had been burned.
“Oh—fuck.” His voice cracked. “Aitor… I—”
His gaze dropped, and that’s when I saw it.
The razor in his hand. My stomach tightened.
“What were you doing?” I asked quietly.
Garrett immediately shook his head, dropping the blade as panic flooded his face.
“No—no, I wasn’t gonna—I swear.” His words tumbled over each other. “I just—I don’t know why I grabbed it. I wasn’t gonna do anything. I swear.”
He looked completely mortified now, shame flooding his expression.
“And the kiss…” He ran a shaking hand through his wet hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking. I’m messed up, I know. I’m really fucking messed up.”
He was rambling now, words spilling out faster and faster.
“Please, just don't… tell anyone. I just—I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m sorry, Aitor. I’m so sorry.”
I stepped forward and pulled him into a hug before he could keep spiraling.
He went rigid for a second, then his shoulders finally dropped, like something inside him had given up fighting.
“It’s okay,” I murmured. “Shh. It’s okay, Garr. I'm telling no one. It's just you and me here, okay?”
He was still wrapped in a towel, completely soaked from the shower. I grabbed another towel and started drying his hair while guiding him out of the bathroom.
He didn’t resist. He never did when things got this bad.
I helped him into his briefs before I settled him onto the bed.
Garrett sat there with his head lowered, looking exhausted in a way that went deeper than just being tired.
I sat beside him.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Garrett and I had been through enough years together to understand silence.
Eventually, I reached over and rested a hand on the back of his neck.
“Garr,” I said quietly, “you know I love you, right?”
He huffed a weak, humorless breath.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “It’s fucking lame, but… you know I love you too, right?”
“I know.”
I hesitated for a moment before continuing.
“But I’m seeing Aslan.”
Garrett’s body flinched. Just slightly, but I felt it.
“We’re together now,” I said gently. “I asked you before. I gave you the chance to stop it, and you didn’t.”
Garrett stared down at the floor.
“I’m invested now,” I continued. “You need to understand that.”
He nodded slowly.
“I know you are,” he said quietly. “I saw you tonight. Out there. Playing together.”
His jaw tightened.
“You’re good for him. With him. He’s good for you.”
“He is,” I admitted softly.
Garrett swallowed.
“Are you okay with that?” I asked.
He rubbed his face with both hands.
“I don’t know why I’m not,” he muttered. “He’s just physical. Nothing emotional, Aitor. I’m sorry. I’m such a dick. He’s your boyfriend.”
I didn’t answer.
Because the truth was, Garrett had no idea what he was feeling, but it wasn't just physical, and I wasn’t about to be the one to explain it to him. I was probably the dick here.
However, Garrett had said it himself once. That he would only end up hurting Aslan.... And now it seemed my job was to prevent that.
To protect Aslan from Garrett. And maybe, just as much, to protect Garrett from himself.
“You’ve got a lot going on right now,” I said instead. “Anything you feel, you come to me. I’m here for you. Always.”
Garrett’s eyes filled instantly. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around me, burying his face against my shoulder.
“I know,” he whispered hoarsely. “I don’t wanna betray you, Aitor.”
His grip tightened. “I told you I’m afraid I’ll hurt you both.”
I wrapped my arms around him.
“You won’t,” I said quietly. “I won’t let you do that, Garr.”
Garrett pulled back slightly, shaking his head.
“I’ll try,” he said.
The words landed like a punch.
“Not now,” he continued, his voice rough. “But someday… yeah. I know I will.”
His eyes met mine, troubled and honest.
“I’ll chase him,” he admitted. “And I’ll probably wreck whatever the hell you two have going on. And maybe what we have too.” He pointed at the both of us.
My chest tightened at the confession, but I forced myself to stay calm.
“What we have can’t be broken,” I said quietly. “Not even by you, brother.”
I pulled him closer again.
But somewhere deep inside, a question I didn’t want to face was already forming. If the day came when I had to lose one of them…
Which one would it be?
At some point during the night, exhaustion must have won.
I usually left Garrett’s room before morning. Always, actually. It was a habit born from years of keeping things quiet and simple between us.
But that night neither of us moved.
The sharp knocking dragged me out of sleep.
For a second, I didn’t remember where I was. Then the familiar room slowly came back into focus, along with the dull weight of everything that had happened the night before.
Garrett groaned beside me.
He pushed himself up from the bed, rubbing a hand over his face, still half asleep. His hair was a mess, and he was wearing nothing but a pair of dark briefs.
The knocking came again.
“Yeah, yeah… hold on,” he muttered hoarsely.
I watched through heavy eyelids as he stumbled across the room and opened the door.
Trisha’s voice burst in immediately.
“You’re not ready yet?”
She didn’t even wait for an answer. She stepped forward, grabbed Garrett by the shoulders, and planted a quick kiss on his lips.
“Come on, my parents are expecting us early. You can’t seriously be—”
She stopped.
Her eyes had lifted past Garrett’s shoulder.
Straight to me.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Her expression shifted from cheerful impatience to pure shock. “What the hell?”
Only then did Garrett seem to remember the night before. He turned slightly, following her gaze.
And saw me sitting in his bed.