Chapter 14 — Jack

A cold sweat broke out across Jack’s forehead as he rushed from Calvin’s house to his car. He revved the engine and pulled away as quickly as he could, not daring to take his eyes off the road, not daring to stop or look back or even think about anything else until he was halfway back across town to his parents’ house.

What the actual fuck?

What had he done?

Why had he done it?

After so many years and so many conflicted thoughts and feelings about the first kiss he’d shared with Calvin, why, oh why had he complicated things so much more by fucking kissing him again?

Was he crazy? Was that it?

A masochist, maybe?

Could there be any other explanation for why Jack had been so weak and foolish?

He was on Main Street now, even though he didn’t really remember any of the streets he must have crossed to get there from Calvin’s house.

His hands were shaking as he pulled up in front of the darkened windows of the bookstore. Why had he even come here? What did he think he was going to do? Break in and surround himself with Calvin’s things, since he didn’t have the guts to go back and face Calvin in person?

Jack rolled down the car window and turned off the engine. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He just needed a few minutes.

A few minutes to get himself together.

A few minutes to think.

There was no denying that Jack had been the one who had kissed Calvin this time. Last time it happened, he could at least pretend that he had nothing to do with it because Calvin had kissed him first.

Now, he couldn’t pretend anymore.

For better or worse, whatever it meant, Jack had kissed Calvin—had kissed him because he wanted to kiss him.

And now that it was over? Now that Jack had run out the door like a jerk, so fast he had no doubt left Calvin’s head spinning?

All he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss Calvin again.

Something about it had felt exactly like Jack always knew it would.

It had felt good.

There had been a spark.

It had felt right.

After years and years of trying to find that same feeling anywhere but here, Jack had come home to what he had always known would be waiting.

He had come home to Calvin.

So why was he running?

What was he scared of?

He knew Calvin had feelings for him—or that he used to, anyway. Calvin had made those feelings clear with the first kiss.

But if Jack admitted he felt the same way… what would it mean for him? For his life back in Boston?

How would his parents react if the Calvin they had always considered to be a part of the family suddenly became much more?

Jesus, there were so many unanswered questions—questions that were always waiting in the background, but he had been too scared to even let himself think about them until now.

But it was like opening the flood gates, and once those questions were swimming around in the foreground of his mind, there was no way to bottle them back up.

There was no way he was going to just pack up and forget about what had just happened between the two of them.

Jack took another deep breath, letting the cool night air wash over him as he tried to figure out what in the hell he was going to do.

It would be impossible to face Calvin again and just pretend like that kiss hadn’t happened. The only reason Jack had sort of gotten away with it after their first kiss was because he had let enough time pass that it would have been more awkward to bring it up—a fact that had been proved that morning after their initial talk.

But this kiss? This crazy, magical, soul-grabbing kiss?

No way was it fading anytime soon.

And no matter what it meant, didn’t he owe Calvin an explanation, at least? Wasn’t it sort of a dick move to keep running out on the man who was supposed to be his best friend?

Yeah.

Yeah, it was.

Jack didn’t want to be a dick anymore. Especially not to Calvin. And he didn’t want to run anymore, either.

Didn’t want to run from his fears.

Didn’t want to run from that spark.

Didn’t want to run from Calvin.

Jack started the car again and pulled out of the parking space he’d been occupying for the past several minutes. He knew what he had to do, and strangely, he felt good about it.

Tonight, he would rest. He would take some more time to think, and he’d give Calvin some time, too.

But tomorrow would be different.

Tomorrow, he would talk to Calvin—really talk.

And then?

Jack didn’t know what the hell would happen then if he was being honest.

But he knew what he hoped would happen. For the first time in a long time, he knew what he wanted.