“Actually, he did. He’s been with the company for twenty-one years.”
“So that’s the plan? You’re just going to stick around and wait until Chuck retires?”
Colt shrugged. “It’s a good job. Chuck’s probably gonna retire soon, anyway.”
Jason pursed his lips, and Colt knew he wanted to say more, but he stabbed his salad with his fork and stuffed his mouth instead.
“What?” Colt pressed against his better judgment. “I know you’ve got something to say, so just say it.”
“I just don’t understand.”
“What’s there to understand?”
“Why you’d throw an opportunity away, for one thing.” As soon as the words were out of Jason’s mouth, the look on his face made it clear he regretted them. “You practically run that site, and you have ever since you took the job. You’re too good and too talented to get stuck in the same dead end job for the next twenty years, Colt.”
“I’m confused,” Colt said. “Are we still talking about the promotion, or are we talking about the fact that I dropped out of school to go into construction in the first place?”
“Both, since you brought it up,” Jason said, folding his arms. “At least I understood why you dropped out of RIC. College wasn’t your thing, fine. You wanted to be your own man, work with your hands, chart your own course in life without buckling down every day to go to some nine to five. That I could understand, but this? This is everything you want.”
“It’s not what I want, it’s what you want,” Colt growled. Again, the response that came out of his mouth didn’t seem to match the one he’d gone over in his head. Getting hounded by Jason for his own good was nothing new, and he’d never reacted like this.
“Okay, you got me,” said Jason, clearly oblivious to Colt’s escalating anger. “I don’t want to see my best friend throw his time and talent away on a dead-end job where he’s never going to be appreciated, so sue me.”
Colt’s fist clenched around his napkin. “This isn’t the kind of conversation ‘best friends’ have, Jason. If we were just ‘best friends,’ we’d be at the bar throwing back beers and talking smack, not sitting at a table for two discussing our life paths.”
Jason’s eyes narrowed. “Are you seriously going there?”
“Going where?” Colt challenged.
“Making this about how I can’t care about your decisions just because we aren’t dating,” he answered, folding his arms.
Colt was surprised he’d come out with it. Ever since he’d confessed his feelings to Jason before college, the other man had acted like it never happened.
“Forget it,” Colt muttered, taking a sip of his drink.
“No, I’m not going to forget it,” Jason pressed. “You’re the one who brought it up, so it’s obviously bothering you. Let’s get it out in the open.”
“Oh, now you want to talk about it? Cuz last time I tried, you said it just wasn’t the right time, and it’s been seven years.”
Anger flashed in Jason’s gaze, and Colt knew he’d unleashed the dragon, but he couldn’t bring himself to take it back like he usually would have. Not that it was even possible at this point.
“That’s not fair and you know it.”
Colt snorted, leaning back in his chair. Even as he spoke, he found himself wondering what the hell he was doing. It was like he was driving a car off a cliff, but no matter how he tried, he couldn’t take his foot off the pedal. “Right. It’s only fair when it’s something I don’t want to talk about, but your shit’s off limits.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, exactly?”
Colt leaned in, lowering his voice even though he knew he should just stop talking before he said something he couldn’t take back. “It means you shouldn’t be lecturing me about how I live my life when you’re a bonafide closet case who only breathes with his daddy’s permission.”
Jason’s eyes widened in disbelief at what he’d just said, and Colt couldn’t believe it either. As close as they were, Jason’s sexuality and the fact that he was hiding it from his family had always been off limits.
“Is that how you really feel?” Jason finally asked, his voice cracked with pain that was so much worse than anger.
No! Colt’s common sense screamed from somewhere far in the back of his mind. He wasn’t sure what had taken its place, but he felt like he’d been possessed by the ghost of what he’d always wanted to say and never had the balls—or the stupidity—to get out.
“Am I wrong?” he asked. “As long as your parents are writing the tuition checks, they pull the strings and you’ll keep dancing.”
Jason didn’t respond for seconds that felt like hours. When he finally did, he didn’t sound angry or even hurt anymore. Just sad. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I’m just going to pretend like you didn’t say any of that.”
“Don’t do me any favors,” Colt said, tossing his napkin on the table so he could reach for his wallet.
“Is this really how you want to end tonight?” Jason asked. “Taking everything out on me because I turned you down?”
“That has shit to do with anything,” Colt growled. “I might’ve been dumb enough to think it could work when we were teenagers, but it’s obvious you think you’re too good to be friends with someone like me, let alone anything else.”
“What?” Jason cried in horror. “Where would you even get that?”
“Because it’s the truth,” Colt answered without hesitation. “We both know this friendship--or whatever the hell you want to call it--has had an expiration date on it from the beginning.”
Jason sat in stunned silence. Colt wasn’t sure if he was in denial or just upset that it was finally out in the open. That he no longer had the option of pretending like it didn’t exist.
“You’re wrong,” he finally said. “I’ve never felt that way, and it’s not fair of you to blame me for the way my parents feel.”
“Is it really any different?” Colt challenged. “You let them make all your decisions for you. Or maybe you don’t. Maybe you just want the same things.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Come on, Jason. I might not be an Ivy League student, but I’m not an idiot,” he said bitterly. “I used to think you were just worried about what they thought, but that’s not true, is it? My job, my parents, my apartment, my lack of ambition. You’re the one who thinks none of it’s good enough. They’re just a convenient scapegoat.”
“You’re drunk,” Jason muttered. He sounded almost hopeful. Desperate.
“I wish.”
“God, you’re such an ass,” Jason said, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “This was never about you not being good enough for me. It’s about you not living up to your potential.”
It had been years since Colt had seen him cry, and knowing he was the reason for it should have been enough of a shock to make him stop. To make him take it all back, no matter how true it was.