I'd felt horrible guilt and fear about it, even when I'd earned more money, just to pay it back.
I was a wicked boy for so many reasons, the largest of which were my thoughts. I doubted, I feared, I resented, and in my resentment summoned up some pretty horrible opinions about my strict, mean father especially.
Mostly, I kept those opinions to myself, but occasionally, I'd snap back at him, and he always, always made me regret it.
Even after I ran away, that guilt followed me relentlessly. It chased me down, no matter how far I went to get away from it.
And then I met her.
Bianca put it all in perspective. She needed me. I protected her, she accepted me, and we became inseparable.
I saved her life. She saved my soul.
By the time I was in my early twenties, I thought I'd mostly left that heavy guilt behind me, but it still lingered in deceptive but destructive ways.
I couldn't be myself, or at least, I felt it was necessary, even proper, to hide parts of myself from the world. This self-destructive instinct was so strong, and so knit into the fiber of who I was, that it nearly cost me the love of my life.
CHAPTER TWELVE
WAS IT ME?
PAST
STEPHAN
He was much older than me. I was seventeen, and he had to be pushing thirty. I knew that was bad, but he had so many other things going for him.
He was handsome. He had a great smile. He was even-tempered, and just as vehement as I was about staying in the closet.
I met him at the bookstore. We were both looking for the same book. It was so romantic. The kind of story you could tell later and share intimate smiles about.
We hooked up the third time we went out.
We were getting cleaned up when his phone chimed.
His expression didn't change as he moved to check it, but his brow furrowed as he continued to study the screen of his phone.
"Everything okay?" I asked him, shrugging into my shirt.
He looked up, his eyes gone somewhere else. He had to blink a few times to come back to the here and now. "What? Oh that? Yeah, it's fine. My wife is just being a nosy bitch. Nothing new there."
My whole body froze, even my lungs, to the point that I could barely breathe, let alone talk.
Was it me? Was I cursed, or doomed, to only pick out guys that would hurt me at the first opportunity?
"Your wife?" I finally managed to get out.
He didn't roll his eyes, but he may as well have, with the look he gave me. "Now don't get all touchy about this."
"You told me you were g*y. Not bi. Not married to a woman. Gay."
I was careful to keep my voice down, though it was a struggle, because Bianca was asleep in the next room.
It dawned on me suddenly why he'd insisted on coming to my place.
This time he did roll his eyes. "I am. I'm only attracted to men, but that doesn't mean I want to live that lifestyle. That's why I'm in the closet. Like you."
"You're married. You're nothing like me. You're a liar."
"Everybody's a liar. Being in the closet is a lie. It's something you'll figure out around the time you grow up, kid."
"Get out."
"Excuse me?"
"Leave," I said through my teeth, hoping he would listen, because I was about a second away from hitting him.
Luckily, he went. I never heard from him again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DO ME A FAVOR
PRESENT
STEPHAN
It wasn't until the next day that I got Javier's other reaction. The delayed one, that came after the relieved one.
"What were you doing?" he burst out with suddenly. "What were you even thinking, going back there, getting yourself shot?"
I'd known this was coming.
"I had to," I said calmly, though it hurt to speak. "She was in danger. I had to do something."
"You had to take a bullet for her?"
"Yes."
"Do you know how f**ked up that is? Who does something like that?"
"It's not f**ked up. It's who I am."
"How? Why?"
"This is how I love, Javier."
"It's how you love her."
"Yes. And it's how I love you. I'd do the same for you."
"You'd take a bullet for me?"
"In a heartbeat."
He laughed mid-sob. "Do me a favor. Please don't ever take a bullet again. Not for anyone. Not even me."
"Deal. And you do me a favor."
"Anything."
"Marry me."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BUT THEN I MET HIM
PAST
STEPHAN
I heard every story there was to hear about Javier before I ever laid eyes on him. He was slutty. He was a snob. He loved drama, and it followed him everywhere. He couldn't keep a secret.
There was more dirt flying around about him than I could keep up with, and though I tended to shy away from gossip, I had every reason to believe most of it, based on the fact that there was just so much of it.
But then I met him. No one had told me he was drop dead gorgeous. Just beautiful in a way that spoke to me. Every part of him was defined and perfect, from his lips to his hands. Elegant and devastating.
No one told me that he had the thickest eyelashes on the planet, or that his calm dark eyes sparkled when he smiled.
I was wildly attracted to him the instant I set eyes on him, but even so, I didn't like him. He had a shitty reputation, and he was not my type. Not at all.
My unruly body and my stupid heart couldn't seem to keep that straight.
We met at the crew headquarters. He was our fifth flight attendant, not a part of the regular crew, which meant he was on-call and had likely had to rush to work with only an hour's notice. He didn't look it. He looked very well put together, his tie straight, his hair perfect. He looked calm and relaxed, and good enough to eat.
Everyone was there, including the pilots, so we did the crew briefing as we waited for the bus that would take us to the plane.
It was a short briefing, because almost all of us had been working together for a full month, and Bianca and I always worked together in first class. I sent her a brief smile, and that was all, before addressing Javier, whose eyes I'd felt on me since the moment we'd been introduced.
He was brazen, that one.
"Jessa has the galley," I told him, "and Julie is our usual third this month, so that makes you fifth. You'll be doing the count and helping the girls between their carts."