The Spiral Down (The Fall Up #2)(62)



My jaw fell open as he casually sipped Levee’s coffee.

“Well, aren’t you chipper this morning,” I deadpanned, resuming my pacing.

“I’m not trying to be chipper. I’m trying to be real. While you’re here pissed off that your boyfriend actually wants to be with you for once, there is a line of men out there waiting for you to f*ck this up. I don’t know Evan well. Only met him once. But, if he’s willing to put up with your brand of neurotic, he’s got my stamp of approval.”

Levee pinched his nipple through his shirt. “He’s not neurotic.”

He tenderly smiled down at her. “Yes, he is. And you are too. But I f*cking love your brand. And, if Evan loves his, then that, in and of itself, is more rare than any King Kong he’s ever going to find.” He took another sip of the coffee and then lifted his eyes to mine. “Maybe you need to figure out why you chase straight guys to begin with. You didn’t drive all the way back today just because he was straight. You did it because you wanted to see him.”

“But I never would have given him a chance if I’d thought he was bisexual. So, really, it all goes hand in hand,” I countered.

“Aaaand there’s your problem.”

Levee gasped, “Oh my God.”

Sam looked down at her and grinned painfully. “I told you.”

My eyes flashed between them as Levee’s face paled and she used a hand to cover her mouth.

“You told her what?” I asked anxiously. “Have you two been talking about me behind my back?”

“Of course we have!” Sam replied at the same time Levee breathed, “No.”

“Somehow, I’m not believing that,” I smarted.

“You don’t want them to get to know you,” Levee damn near cried.

I barked a laugh. “What are you talking about?”

“You only go after men who won’t want you.”

I shot her a confident scowl. “Oh, please. They all want me eventually.”

“No, they don’t! They want whoever you become when you’re trying to get them into bed. That’s not you. At least, not the Henry you show me. That’s the cocky * you are on stage!”

I swirled a finger next to my temple. “I’m pretty sure it’s still me, crazy.”

Sam sighed. “It’s not. Trust me. I can tell immediately when you’re on the hunt. You find men who are just as confused as you are and then you use the whole sex thing to keep your distance. Nobody stays with you because they don’t know what the hell they want any more than you do. It has nothing to do with gay or straight. And everything to do with you being too damn afraid to expose yourself to someone for fear that they will see the real you and still walk away.”

I scoffed. He was so f*cking wrong I was almost embarrassed for him. “Okay, slow down there, Doctor Rivers. I’m not afraid of that at all. I just like straight men, the same way you like women.” I waved a finger between him and Levee.

“Straight men are not a gender, Henry.” Levee piped up. “You just like men.”

“Who like women,” I corrected, leveling her with a challenging glare. “It’s a type. Everyone has a type.”

She rolled her eyes. “Bullshit. You like the ones who do their best not to get to know you. The ones who will play your little game of chase and not ask a single question about you in return. Let me guess: Evan wants the real you. It freaked you the f*ck out. And you hauled ass here so you could avoid doing the one thing you really need to do.”

I blew out a loud breath, becoming more annoyed by the second. “And what’s that?”

“Let him get to know you!” she yelled, rising to her knees and moving down the bed until she was right in front of me. “For God’s sake, Henry. Does he like you?”

“He apparently likes a lot of men,” I snapped.

She poked me with a finger. “I asked if he likes you.”

I opened my mouth to reply only to close it. Did Evan like me? I mean really like me? A million moments of him flashed through my mind. From his face in the limo when I had announced I was gay to him counting down with me in the middle of a panic attack, all the way up to tonight when he’d forced me to tell him every detail about Robin just because he was genuinely interested in why I was so upset.

If it had been a movie, that would have been the moment of realization where I took Levee’s face between my palms, planted a kiss on her lips, and then ran from the room while an upbeat ballad played in the background. A camera would have followed me all the way back to Evan’s house, where I’d throw cash at the cabbie and tell him that he didn’t need to wait. I’d run through his front door to find him waiting for me with surprise covering his handsome face. And, when he asked what I was doing, I’d have some grand line about being just a boy asking him to love me or something equally as unrealistic. Then we’d kiss while the cameraman panned a circle around us until we faded to black in an implied happily-ever-after.

But life wasn’t a movie. At least, not that kind.

In order to accept that someone as incredible as Evan Roth wanted to be with Henry Gilchrist and not the fa?ade I paraded around as, I’d need far more than a pep talk from my best friend. I didn’t even want to be with that guy, but for a brief moment in time, I’d convinced myself that Evan did.

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