The Wingman by A. Poland

Chapter Twenty-Two

Standing there with his jacket thrown over his shoulder, Lorcan looked between Nathan and Miles like he wasn’t quite sure what he was seeing, as if he couldn’t possibly believe he was seeing his best friend with the guy he’d been so torn up about.

But it was, and Nathan felt like such an asshole.

Pushing away from Miles, Nathan faced Lorcan fully.

“It’s not what you think,” he tried, inwardly cursing himself for going for the most overused phrase when it was, in fact, exactly what it looked like.

“Oh yeah?” Lorcan replied, seething and only slightly slurring his words. Definitely not enough for Nathan to hope he would forget all of this by morning. “So you two weren’t making out? How long has this been going on? Were you two laughing at me this entire time?”

“No, dude, come on. Of course we weren’t. You know I’d never do something like that to you.” Nathan’s heart was hammering in his chest; Lorcan had never been this angry with him before. The kind of white-hot anger that spread and spread until your vision was clouded with it. Definitely not the anger that came with finding out Nathan had taken the last cookie or accidentally locked Lorcan out of the apartment in college for the third time.

This was a whole other level of anger.

“I don’t know anything about you.” Lorcan’s tone was cutting, and Nathan could feel the sharp slashes. “Because the guy I thought I knew sure as shit wouldn’t do this to me.”

“Hey, no, that’s not fair.” Nathan’s voice sounded weak even to him. Lorcan gave Nathan one last disgusted look before storming off. “Lorcan, come on!” Nathan called after him, but that only made Lorcan move faster.

Shit.

“Nathan…” Miles’s voice came softly.

“Not right now,” Nathan snapped, and Miles didn’t say anything more. He couldn’t, really, considering that Nathan quickly took off down the street after Lorcan not a second later.

Which turned out to not be the smartest move in the world because Lorcan walked fucking fast, and Nathan lost track of him the moment he reached a corner. After a few futile attempts at finding him by calling his name, he made his way back to where Jackson had parked the car. Lorcan had to get home somehow; maybe he would be there.

But Lorcan wasn’t there. And neither was the car.

Nathan pulled out his phone and called Jackson—no answer. He didn’t know the numbers of the other guys they’d come with, so he tried Lorcan, knowing full well he wouldn’t get an answer, but felt disappointed when he didn’t pick up anyway.

Out of options, Nathan called Miles. He picked up on the second ring.

*

The ride home was silent, which was unusual for them, so it didn’t help ease the guilt swirling in the pit of Nathan’s stomach as he sat there, looking and feeling pretty damn pitiful. Neither of them brought up the kiss.

“Thanks for the ride,” Nathan murmured once they pulled up to the house, earlier on in the night than expected.

“It’s no problem,” Miles assured, still clutching the steering wheel.

Before Nathan could think too much about it, he reached out to squeeze Miles’s hand and said, “I’ll text you later?”

Shoulders relaxing, and with a hesitant curve of his lips, Miles nodded. “I’d like that.”

With a lingering glance over his shoulder and one final squeeze, Nathan made his way toward the house. Ben’s car was gone, so Nathan assumed the date was still going strong. The lights in Lorcan’s house were turned off, and more importantly, Lorcan’s room was also cast in darkness. Lorcan wasn’t home; Nathan knew it in his gut.

Nathan would try to talk to him in the morning. But despite that self-reassurance, he didn’t sleep one wink.

The next day, Nathan got up bright and early to try his hand at baking Lorcan’s favorite oatmeal raisin cookies. Well, at least they were Lorcan’s favorite when Ben was the one making them. So Nathan couldn’t go too wrong, right?

Wrong.

Nathan burned his wrist on the oven and set off the fire alarm all at once. The cookies clattered to the floor, and smoke billowed out of the oven. Alerted by the smell of burning, Ben thundered down the stairs and into the kitchen. He quickly opened the window and pulled Nathan’s wrist under a cold stream of water. Once Nathan’s wrist started to burn because of how cold the water was, Ben relaxed his grip and let Nathan remove his arm from the icy stream.

One of your many talents isn’t baking, I’m afraid, Ben informed him with a sympathetic smile.

Nathan couldn’t bring himself to banter with him, only nodding and looking down at the charcoal chunks of cookie scattered over the floor. There was no way of salvaging them. Nathan sighed, glancing up when he heard footsteps. Which didn’t immediately alarm Nathan as it should have, considering they lived alone.

Standing there, in the kitchen doorway in Ben’s tartan robe, was Ria. Not as put together as she’d been in the video call, but still striking.

I take it we don’t need to evacuate? she asked, glancing between Ben and a dazed-looking Nathan.

False alarm, Ben assured her with a fond smile before glancing to Nathan. Nathan, this is Ria. Ria, my son. But you two have already met.

Nathan gave her a shy wave, a bit too dazed to do anything but. Ria smiled and waved back before catching sight of Nathan’s wrist, her immaculate brows pulled together in concern.

Have you got a first aid kit? Ria asked, and Ben was quick to jump to action, reaching in the cabinet above the oven for a first aid kit Nathan wasn’t aware they owned.

It’s not that bad. Nathan tried to assure them both but winced when he used his wrist. Okay, that was going to be difficult. So he allowed Ben to lead him to the kitchen table, where Ria sat across from him. She disinfected his wrist and put some kind of salve on it before wrapping it in a bandage. Ben stood at Nathan’s shoulder, one hand resting reassuringly there.

There. Ria nodded once she finished up. Good as new.

Thank you, Nathan told her, kind of embarrassed that this was how they’d been officially introduced. And wearing his boxers and a T-shirt that Nathan was sure was older than he was, after clearly interrupting some morning cuddles or whatever. Nathan didn’t want to think too hard about that because this was his father, and there were limits.

Ria is a nurse, Ben told him with a touch of pride, and Nathan raised his brows.

That makes a lot of sense. Nathan paused, touching the edge of the bandage until Ben nudged him to leave it alone. I promise the next time I see you, there won’t be any medical emergency.

Let’s hope not, Ria agreed with a laugh, standing up and straightening out the robe. I better go; I have other patients to see this afternoon.

Nice to finally meet you, Nathan told her, even if he had wanted to give a way better first impression than hopeless man-child.

This wasn’t a proper introduction, Ria assured him, a warmth to her expression Nathan couldn’t help but feel comforted by. We’ll do dinner sometime; do it right.

Yeah, Nathan agreed with a nod, dinner sounds good.

With that, Ria headed back upstairs to get dressed, and the two Reed men were silent and motionless for a moment. When they both moved to sign, it was at the same time.

In my defense, I thought you were staying at Lorcan’s—and—holy shit, go Dad!

They broke off with a shared laugh that soon petered out into silence. Nathan looked back down to his bandaged wrist with a sigh, then glanced back up when Ben moved to sweep up the lumps of partially edible coal on the floor.

Once he’d scooped the remnants into the trash, Ben hesitated, then asked, Did something happen between you and Lorcan?

What makes you say that? Nathan countered, resting his head against his uninjured hand as he awaited Ben’s verdict.

It’s not his birthday, and you look miserable. I’m assuming these are apology cookies.

Nathan glared at his father because how dare his own flesh and blood call him out like that?

You assumed right. Nathan sighed. There’s no point in denying it. I kissed someone Lorcan likes, and he caught us.

Ben blinked, momentarily thrown. Nathan guessed he’d probably been expecting something a little less extreme.

Were they involved? Ben asked, always pragmatic in his approach to difficult situations.

No. Nathan paused, tapping his fingers against the table for a moment, briefly considering how much he should tell Ben before deciding—fuck it. It wasn’t like his dad knowing would screw up an already messed-up situation even more. Lorcan tried to get that to happen. A lot. But they weren’t into him. And that whole thing happened a month ago, and we kissed just last night.

Do you like them? Ben didn’t hesitate, going straight for the kill.

Nathan didn’t say anything for a few moments, even if the answer came to him far too quickly for him to ever doubt it.

Yeah. I do.

Ben nodded slowly, then took a clean baking tray out and placed it on the countertop.

Then Lorcan will understand. He’s a good boy; he’ll come around.

Somehow, Nathan highly doubted that. Not the part about Lorcan being a good guy—he was. But damn, he could be stubborn, and it wasn’t like they’d ever been in a situation like this before. Nathan didn’t know where to begin with predicting what might happen.

Yeah, maybe.Nathan smiled softly at Ben, trying to reassure him that he believed those words of wisdom.

And when this all blows over, Ben continued, expression all-knowing, I want you to invite Miles over for dinner.

Nathan let out a bark of laughter. Had he really expected his dad not to accurately guess who the fuss was all about?

I’ll make you some replacement apology cookies, how about that?

While Ben baked, Nathan took a picture of the clumpy remains of his own attempt and fired off a text to Miles.

I hope you’re not into me for my culinary skills.

While his stomach knotted over what all this meant for him and Lorcan, there was that undeniable thrill that Miles liked him. Not only that, but he liked Nathan enough to kiss him. And that was no small thing.

Ignoring the swirl of guilt in his throat, Nathan allowed himself to snort at the response he received not a moment later.

Date idea: a cooking class.

Briefly debating his approach––flirty or mock-offended, both very good options––Nathan replied, Is that your official way of asking me out?

Miles took a little longer to respond to that one.

Yes.

Then, from Nathan: Good ☺

An hour later, armed with Ben’s cookies and a determination like none other, Nathan made his way over to Lorcan’s house. He must have returned home by now; it was almost noon. So Nathan knocked on the front door, box of cookies tucked under his arm, and stood his ground firmly.

The door opened, but it wasn’t Lorcan or Mrs. O who answered. Hell, it wasn’t even soft-spoken Brian. The twins stood shoulder to shoulder, blinking owlishly up at him as though Nathan was already wasting their time.

Nathan instantly felt nervous.

“Hi!” He tried his best to sound upbeat, child-friendly. “How’re you two?”

Silence.

“Is, uh, is Lorcan home?”

Silence.

“I have cookies?” Nathan held out the box, which was quickly snatched from his hands.

“He’s upstairs,” said the one on the left (Sally? No, Emily. Wait, it was definitely Sally. Maybe?), tone bored.

“But he doesn’t want to see you,” concluded the twin on the right, and then the door slammed in Nathan’s face.

“Hey!” Nathan called, hammering his fist against the hardwood. “That’s not a fair exchange! I want those damn cookies back!”

Nathan probably shouldn’t have said “damn” around two children, but at least there was no one else there to witness it.

Taking a breath, Nathan regrouped and thought of a new approach.

He walked back around to the back of the house, Lorcan’s bedroom window in his sights. Spotting a small pebble on the ground, he plucked it up and launched it at the glass.

Only for the brown pebble to completely disintegrate midair because it wasn’t a pebble. It was a clump of dirt.

“Shit,” Nathan muttered to himself, searching around for a real pebble and not a lump of disappointment.

Where the hell were all the stones?

Okay, a second new approach.

Lorcan’s bedroom was on the second floor, but because of the unique cobblestone structure of the walls of the house, Nathan was semi-confident he could scale the side of it, hop on the roof of the conservatory, and then use that to get himself to Lorcan’s window.

Completely foolproof. Nathan was kind of proud of himself for thinking it up.

Until he remembered, too late, that he was not the most agile person in the world and ended up dangling from the side of the house by his fingertips.

“Lorcan!” Nathan yelled, a terrified edge to his voice despite the fact that the farthest he had to fall was barely a foot. “I swear, if I die trying to talk to you, I’m going to haunt you so bad!”

And then Nathan promptly lost his grip, falling a very small distance flat onto his back with a grunt.

“Are you okay?”

Nathan opened his eyes and looked up to Lorcan’s bedroom window, where the man of the hour was leaning out and peering down with palpable concern.

“I…yeah!” Nathan called up. Wow, the haunting threat worked.

“Good,” Lorcan replied simply, then disappeared back inside and shut the window with a bang. Well, at least Nathan knew Lorcan still cared if he was alive. Small victories.

Afraid to try the whole climbing thing again, Nathan took his phone out of his back pocket. “Oh, come on.” He groaned at the long crack down the center of the screen. It had survived a dip in a river and a tumble down a hill, but not falling half a foot? He unlocked it anyway and started a voice message recording as he sat cross-legged at the back of Lorcan’s house.

Recording one:

“Yes, I’m still outside. And I’m not moving until you come out. I did have cookies for you. Y’know those oatmeal and raisin ones you like because you’re a freak? But the twins took them off of me, and they might be performing some ritual on them. They really hate me, huh? So, yeah, for my sake, maybe keep an eye on that. I don’t think the devil likes raisins, and I really want to keep my soul.”

Recording two:

“Point being, I made you cookies because I’m sorry. I know what I did was a dick move. But it wasn’t like I meant for you to catch us— Shit—no. I’m going to start again. How do I delete this?”

Recording three:

“Okay, so it turns out I don’t know how to delete voice messages before sending them so I’m going to have to be very careful here. I… Miles and I have been hanging out a little. Not like…as a thing. But y’know, two guy friends just hanging out. Kind of like how we do… I hope we still do that, man. I can’t lose you.”

Recording four:

“We kissed for the first time last night. Just so you know. It wasn’t this whole orchestrated thing to upset you; it just happened. I don’t know how it happened. You and Miles? Yeah, that makes sense. Me and Miles? Zero sense… And me and you? We’re best friends for life, man. It took me a long time to realize that. I, uh, kind of had the biggest crush on you for so long. Like…so long.”

Recording five:

“So, yeah. When I tried to kiss you, it wasn’t just a joke. But it’s okay! I’ve gotten over it. So please don’t be weird about it. You know you’re hot shit. Can’t exactly blame me, Lor. You’re a great guy. Anyone would be lucky to have you interested in them. I’m just damn lucky you’re in my life. Anyway, now that I think about it, if we ever did fuck, I’d just focus on that time you got poison ivy on your balls.”

Recording six:

“I love you, Lor. I don’t want something like this to fuck up our friendship. There are so many other people out there who are gonna worship the ground you walk on, and if you want—”

“What are you doing over there? Do I need to call the police?”

“No, Mrs. Fern! You do not need to call the police on a guy sitting down in his feelings, okay?”

“I’ll be speaking to your father about this!”

“Good luck with that! Sorry, what was I saying, Lor? Right, yeah. I’m still here to help you find them. Those people who are really gonna just rock your world like you deserve. I just… I’m sorry that Miles wasn’t one of them. It would have been so much easier if he was.”

Recording seven:

“Of course, the one day of the summer it decides to rain is when I’m sitting out here. Why do I have the worst luck?”

Recording eight:

“Okay, I hear thunder. Which means lightning, and considering my luck, I feel like I’m about to get hit. Do you think Mrs. Fern somehow made that happen? I really wouldn’t put it past her… Anyway, you know where I am if you wanna talk. I’ll try again tomorrow. Love you, dude.”

An entire week went by without any word from Lorcan, and not a day passed that he didn’t talk to Miles—who was the one thing stopping him from flying into a panicked frenzy over Lorcan dropping off the face of the earth.

Nathan didn’t even spot him outside of the house, and he must have left at some point because he was not the kind of guy to be comfortable locked up in one place for too long. That and work. But Nathan never saw him leave, even though every morning he placed a new box of some kind of baked goods at the front door, a different message scrawled on a piece of paper each day. All terrible jokes that Lorcan loved.

But Nathan didn’t get a text or a call back.

The asshole left him on read.