Waiting for Clark (10 page)

“What are you—? Never mind. Yes.”

“You could have tried asking Charles or me where we parked.” I pointed toward a space several rows over. “Follow me.”

The van was parked by a wall decorated with colorful graffiti. The Sunday con crowd was just starting to arrive, making the garage way busier than I wanted for this talk.

“You can give me the keys now,” Bryce said as we neared the van. “Please.”

“Nice to know you still have your manners.” It probably wasn’t the best opening, but I was still working up that we’re-all-about-to-die courage.

“Clark…” He held out his hand for the keys, and it was the quaver in his voice that did it.

“I love you,” I said. “I love you and I should have told you that this morning when you were trying to walk away.” Yeah, the memory of him walking away and not even
talking
still stung.

Bryce’s eyes darted around and his voice lowered. “That’s the sex talking—”

“I fell in love with you November fifteenth, freshman year, at two o’clock in the morning. I had a paper due in six hours.”

“And your laptop broke,” Bryce said slowly.

“Yes. And you were trying to sleep, but I’d tried everything to get it working again. I finally asked you for help, and you ended up pretty much disassembling the entire machine on our floor.”

“And that made you love me?” Bryce rubbed his jaw.

“You were cursing at the hardware, and I apologized for keeping you awake, and you looked up at me and you smiled this most ridiculous smile…” I could still picture it, pure devilish delight. “And you said, ‘This is the most fun I’ve had in weeks.’ And something in me just
knew.
”

“But Derek? And the other guys you dated?”

“I was waiting for you to make a move,” I whispered. “I waited all freshman year for you to try
something
, but you didn’t, so I decided I was imagining the chemistry, and that you were supposed to be my best friend. I kept hoping the feelings would go away, but they didn’t. They only got stronger. And I got more scared of ruining our friendship.”

“Then you got the Rhodes.” Bryce sighed.

“Then I got the Rhodes,” I agreed. “And all I could see was a disastrous breakup and me losing my best friend in the process. And all I could think about was how awful it would be if it was just getting off for you and me losing my heart.”

“You already had mine,” Bryce said, voice raspy and low.

“Pardon?” I wasn’t sure if I’d heard him right.

“You had mine. I don’t have a precise moment like you— I just know that I wanted to jump you when you were first unpacking in our room, but you were all about
dating
and
rules,
and I knew what a hellacious mistake it would be for us to hook up. And then one day I didn’t want to hook up.”

“You didn’t?” He had me more twisted around than the cape whipping around behind me. I couldn’t have cared less for the shape of my costume at that moment.

“No. I
wanted
to date, and I wanted to follow all your rules. And that scared me even worse. And then one day I realized that losing your friendship would be the worst thing of all. But you had my heart, even though I kind of wanted it back.” Bryce continued rubbing at his face, like he couldn’t believe the words he was letting come out of his mouth.

“I should have stayed,” I said, finally giving voice to the thought that had plagued me for five years. “I should have told you how I really felt. And your dad was sick. I knew you couldn’t leave the area. I should have—”

“I never would have forgiven myself.” Bryce slumped against the van. “Let you miss Oxford? No way. But yeah, maybe we
both
should have spoken up. Been more honest about what we were feeling. Worked something out.”

I nodded. My chest felt like it might crack in two from the force of wishing for a time-travel machine. “Because in the end, I still lost my best friend like I’d feared and, Bryce, that’s what I miss the most. I miss
you
.”

“I missed you too.” Bryce’s voice was a charred whisper grating against the concrete floor. “So much.”

“And I’m not going away,” I said firmly. “I’m taking the visiting professor gig, but I’m also working with some people on a start-up of an app for health care workers using my modeling work from MIT. The goal is to get a company off the ground…” I was rambling, so I took a deep breath. “Bottom line: I’m not leaving. And I
need
you to believe that. I know I’m asking you to trust me here, but even if you don’t want me, I’m sticking around.”

“But you’re racking up awards right and left as one of the most hotshot young mathematicians. There have been magazine articles about you, for Pete’s sake.”

“You’ve kept track of me?” I couldn’t help but smile.

Bryce coughed. “Maybe.”

“Did any of those articles say I
have
to be based in a certain zip code? They talked about my skills, sure, but they didn’t get into how much I miss it here.”

“I wouldn’t want you settling.” Bryce scratched his neck and studied the scarred floor of the parking structure.

“I wouldn’t be settling. I’d be getting everything I’ve always wanted.”

He was quiet a long moment. Too long.

“What do
you
want, Bryce? What would make
you
happy?”

My hands clenched, whole body tensing. Even my feet inside my red boots curled up, everything riding on his reply.

****

Chapter Nine

Bryce

Clark was waiting for me to say something. More precisely, Clark had been waiting years for me to say something. Do something. And I still didn’t know if I could.

“I know it’s scary,” Clark said in soothing tones.

“I’m not scared,” I lied.

“Well, I’m terrified.” He laughed nervously. “Completely petrified.”

“What if we’ve both changed too much?” It seemed my fears were tumbling out whether I gave the words permission or not.

“I’m not worried about that,” Clark said, reaching for my hand. “I know the guy I fell in love with. And I’ve
tried
to get over you. I really have.”

I growled a little. I didn’t like the thought of the guys he’d dated in his quest to move on.

“And I know that if we don’t try now, we’ll
both
regret it for the rest of our lives. Sure, there’s the risk that we won’t work out. Maybe you’ve developed some super-obnoxious new habits—”

I snorted.

“—or vice versa. But that’s a risk we have to take.”

“I don’t like risk,” I admitted.

“Bryce, you ride a motorcycle, you opened a bar which is one of the riskiest investments, and you routinely do workouts that would risk injury to lesser beings.”

Oh God. I really was going to have to spell it out, wasn’t I. “None of that involves
feelings.
” I felt slightly nauseous just saying the words.

“Oh, you mean
emotional
risk.” His face softened and he grabbed my other hand too.

“People leave.” My voice came out all clogged. “They don’t even mean to, but they do. And it cuts me up inside, and I
hate
that feeling. I
hate
missing people—”

“Sssh.” Clark brushed a kiss across my cheek. “I know. And none of us ever know how much time we have. I should know. Even the best mathematical model can’t predict tragedy.”

“I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you,” I whispered against his ear.

“Does it help if I tell you I feel the same way? I’d go crazy. But I’d also go crazy if I have to spend the rest of my life watching you be alone and unhappy because you’re scared.”

I hadn’t thought of it that way. I pictured a future where I watched Clark date other people, hang out within our friendship circle, never again mentioning the pull between us. A future where we were mere acquaintances, and I never again got to see how silver his eyes got late at night or hear his satisfied laugh when he won a game level. A future where I knew he was fucking someone else while I stayed in my little bubble, reluctant to even tell someone what I needed. A future of casual hookups and no blanket sharing, couch cuddling, or just
being
with someone.

I didn’t like that future very much at all.

“Maybe being scared together is the only solution,” I said at last.

“Sometimes you just have to don the cape and pray you fly.” Clark laughed, a lot of relief tingeing his voice. “But I think it’s easier when you have a partner.”

“Partner in crime fighting don’t you mean?” I laughed because I needed to lighten things up before the burning in my sinuses became unbearable. “We are a
very
unlikely duo.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Clark commanded, just enough edge to his voice to get me to leap over the last of my fear.

I wrapped my arms around him, stretching to cover the difference in our heights. A gust in the parking garage caught both of our capes, making them swirl around us.

And thus, on the second day of the comic con I found myself in a Batman costume kissing not just Superman, but the guy of my dreams. A week ago, I never could have seen this moment coming. Heck, two days ago I thought I might never see Clark Kenmore again, and here I was kissing him. And not just kissing him, but embracing a future with him. I’d never, ever admit it, but it’s possible it was the most Hollywood-style kiss of my life, complete with Clark practically lifting me off my feet, one of mine kicking out behind me. I had a feeling life with Clark was going to keep me perpetually slightly off kilter.

****

One year later

“You almost ready?” Clark came bounding into the kitchen through the patio door, dogs fast at his heels.

Never going to be ready.
I had spent all morning— okay— all darn year getting ready for this moment, and now that Clark was here and everything was in place, I found myself at a complete loss for words. Luckily, Clark seemed oblivious to the strange tension making my chest feel too small.

“Can’t believe it’s time for the con again already.”

“It’s because you’ve been on professor time,” I grumbled. “All that grading has your brains scrambled.”

“Oh! You made breakfast!” The smile on his face was worth the effort I’d gone to.

“I can cook… some,” I said. Clark did a fair amount of our cooking. I did a fair amount of ordering takeout and wheedling meals out of Charles, but I
could
cook too. Today was special enough that I’d wanted to do something out of the ordinary for Clark and dusting off my mother’s quiche recipe for an early brunch seemed fitting.

I’d been busy while Clark had been out for his run with the twin terrors and had even set the table in the eating nook off the kitchen. Krypto and Ace sniffed the air like they too might be getting bacon.

“Go lie down,” I said without a lot of force behind the words. I knew they wouldn’t. They listened to Clark (but only sometimes) because he took them for long runs on the trails around town and bought them pricey snacks at Portland Market. We’d had the pair of Lab-mix puppies about two months, and during that time, they’d been the most expensive impulse purchase ever— destroying a couch, part of a fence, and somehow still worming their way into our lives. The rescue folks tried to convince us that they’d keep each other company while we were at work, and one look at Clark’s face had told me they were
both
coming home. He wasn’t about to split up such a tight friendship.

Home. It had been several years since this had truly been a home, a place where a family lived and played and grew. And as much trouble as the dogs were, I wouldn’t trade any of it. Which was the whole point of the breakfast.

“Is it really one year today?” Of course, Mr. Exact hadn’t forgotten what today was. He sat down at the table, dogs muscling past the chairs to lie at his feet.

“Yup.” My throat felt thick.

“I love you.” He gave me a very indulgent smile. “Thank you.”

“For breakfast?”

“Well that too, but thank you for choosing us. Thank you for taking a chance.”

“It paid off,” I said gruffly.

Clark gave me a warm look, one I recognized well, his eyes turning into silvery blue beacons. “Think we might have time for a shower after breakfast?”

“Yeah.” The skin on the back of my neck heated. When Tony moved out, we remodeled the master and moved in my king and two big dog beds. It had been time. And we put a four-headed shower with separate temperature controls in the bathroom. Clark was in heaven, but the look he was giving me told me he was thinking more about the lube in the shower than the new features. And I was okay with that, far more than I was a year ago. I had an incredible,
genius,
hot boyfriend who made me happier than I’d been in years and whom I loved fucking me every chance we got. I didn’t need to go wearing a “Team Bottom” shirt around our friends or anything, but I was much more okay with liking what I liked now.

“Hey, what’s this?” Clark pointed at a little box next to his silverware. His finger hovered above it like he was afraid something in it might leap out and bite him.

“Something I want you to wear with your costume.” I studied my quiche like it was the most interesting mingling of egg and dairy in the history of the world.

“A new cape? It’s much too small for that,” he teased. I could see out the corner of my eye that he still hadn’t touched the box.

“I like your current cape just fine,” I muttered.
Open it.

“Too small for boots, although mine are wearing a bit thin—”

“You can have all the boots you want if you’ll just open it!” I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Okay, okay.” Clark laughed, but his laugh had a nervous edge to it. I finally brought myself to look at him as he opened the box. “A… ring?”

“Um, yeah.” My hands shook against the table. It was a simple, heavy platinum band, but the light etching on it reminded me of my tats as well as some of Clark’s complex models. “Your costume doesn’t have gloves like mine, and I figured your hands would be really bare, and people might get the wrong idea…”

“And what idea might that be?” His voice was light but the tension around his eyes gave away his own nerves.