Time Out of Mind (Suncoast Society #43)(67)

Her jaw dropped. “What? You’re not gay.”

“Yeah, I am. You don’t think it’s odd I never dated anyone all these f*cking years? All the times I had trouble getting it up and blamed it on being tired or drunk?”

“What?”

“I’m f*cking gay, Bonnie. I always have been. I hid it from my family and I hid it when I got to LA and I kept hiding it because of the band’s image. Did he say where he was going?”

“Going?”

“Yeah, going. Doyle’s gone. He packed his stuff and left.” He tried calling Doyle again, but again, straight to voice mail. He didn’t leave another message.

“He’s gone? Already? He didn’t say he was leaving already.”

“Yeah. He texted me that he wished me well because you told him you and I were back together. Why would you f*cking do that?”

She seemed to be hugging herself. “Because I stupidly thought you loved me, *. That’s why!”

“I…” He realized the massive atomic shitstorm about to crash. He reached for her but she jerked back, out of his reach. “Bonnie, I do love you. As a friend. I’ve always loved you as a friend. You never thought it was strange I encouraged you to date other people?”

“I thought you were just trying to push me away.”

“Bonnie. I introduced you to people. I played matchmaker for you.”

“You used me all these years?”

“Not like I heard you complaining.”

“No shit, Sherlock. Because I thought I meant something to you!”

“You do. You’re my friend and adopted family and my coworker, and I know I’m sounding like an * right now, and I’m sorry about that. But the guy I f*cking love, the first guy in my life I’ve ever been in love with and fully honest with, is gone, and I have no clue where he is. And he thinks I f*cking lied to him and cheated on him.”

“How can you even know he wasn’t using you? Isn’t that like a violation of client stuff, sleeping with you?”

“We already contacted Clark and told him that Doyle was ending the contract early. He was here on his own dime. Has been for weeks.”

A frown furrowed her brow. “Clark didn’t tell us that,” she finally said, her voice soft.

“Yeah, because I asked him not to.”

“So Clark knew about this? About you two?”

“Yeah. After Doyle and I talked to him.”

She ran her hands up and down her arms. “So why the f*ck didn’t you tell us any of this before?”

“For starters, because my personal life honestly isn’t anyone else’s business if it doesn’t mess with my work. And because Doyle deals with a lot of A-list clients who prize him for his discretion and anonymity. The last thing anyone wants to see is a headline on TMZ.com stating that celebrity sober companion Doyle Turner was seen on a movie set or at a red carpet function, much less that he’s tied romantically to Mevi of Portnoy’s Oyster, who, surprise, is gay. Duh.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “Doyle told me he was fine with me telling you guys, but I was terrified to out him. And then, f*ck me, we found out about Erique, and I was proven right there.”

She sank to the bed. He hated that she looked shell-shocked, but he’d mend that rift later.

After he got hold of Doyle and straightened this out.

“Wow,” she softly said. “I really thought we had something. I can’t believe you lied to me all these years. To us.” She stared at him. “Why didn’t you at least trust us?”

“Because you know where I came from. My family. Hello.”

“But you didn’t trust me?”

Okay, maybe considering they worked together he did need to fix this now.

He sat across from her, on the other bed. “Bonnie, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. But once we headed down that road, part of me thought maybe I could just fake it. And I did, for a while. Then the drinking to help hide it, then what the * did to my finances…I’m sorry. I hoped you’d find someone and get married and then life would go on. I could be photographed out and about with different women and let the gossip rags talk about me. I never went out with guys.”

She wouldn’t look him in the eyes. “How do you even know he really loves you?”

“Because I do. He walked away from over fifty grand by cancelling the contract.”

When he stood to head back to his room, she reached out to stop him. “What else haven’t you told me?”

Heartsickness was still trying to set in, a functional numbness. At this point, if he lost Doyle, he knew the rest of his life looked pretty bleak indeed.

“I’m submissive, Bon. He’s a Dominant. For the first time in my life, when things happened between us, I honestly felt like I was perfectly, exactly where I should be. I felt…free. He could shut down my brain and allow me time out of my mind. It was easy to stay sober because for the first time in my life, I was with someone who knew everything about me, my darkest secrets, and loved me for them. I didn’t have to hide or pretend with him. He loves me. At least, I hope he still does.” He continued to the door.

She stood and followed, laying a hand on his arm. “So there’s no chance between us?”