Just a Bit Confusing (Straight Guys 5)

Jamie wanted him. Jamie was in love with him. Jamie was miserable because of that.

Because of him.

Ryan felt like punching something. But there was nothing to punch. It wasn’t a situation with an easy fix. He couldn’t tell Jamie that everything would be all right. He couldn’t do anything to make it all right. He was straight. He had an amazing girlfriend he was happy with. He genuinely didn’t see Jamie that way at all.

There was nothing he could do for Jamie.

“Are you sure?” Ryan said, his voice like gritty sandpaper. This was the worst thing that could happen to them.

“Yeah,” Jamie said, barely audibly. “Please don’t hate me.”

Swearing through his teeth, Ryan closed the distance between them and enveloped Jamie in a tight hug. “I don’t hate you, you prat,” he said, burying his nose into Jamie’s hair. “Don’t you ever think that.”

“I’m sorry,” Jamie whispered. “I fucked up. I didn’t mean to—it just happened.”

Ryan pulled back a little to look him in the eye. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for loving someone.” He forced out a teasing smile. “No one can blame you for your excellent taste.”

A ghost of a smile touched Jamie’s lips, but his eye-roll was half-hearted at best. His eyes were still shiny, his face very pale. The knowledge that he was the one who had put that look on Jamie’s face made him sick to his stomach.

Setting his jaw, Ryan cradled Jamie’s face in his hands. “Listen,” he said, holding Jamie’s gaze intently. “I promise you I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this. If you want to, I’ll find you the best boyfriend in the world. Someone you can fall in love and be happy with. How does that sound, mmm?”

The smile Jamie gave him was a little shaky. Ryan told himself it was better than nothing.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Jamie said. “I didn’t tell you that because I expected you to do something.” Jamie smiled brighter. “It’s not your fault I’m an idiot. I’ll be fine—”

“Stop it,” Ryan said. “Don’t pretend it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” Jamie said. He smiled at Ryan, a little brokenly, as if he had no clue what that smile was doing to him. “It’s not. But I’m not the first or the last person in the world to love someone I can’t have. I’m not sure what I expected when I decided to tell you. But I didn’t expect anything from you. I know you don’t love me that way. I know you love her, that you’re happy with her.” Jamie’s eyes were a little too bright. “Nothing has to change. Just…just don’t expect me to be your best man when you marry her, okay? I can’t do it, not even for you.”

Ryan felt like the ground moved beneath his feet. He could only watch Jamie lie once again that he would be fine, force out another smile and leave. Ryan stood, unmoving, an acid churning deep in the pit of his stomach, and he fought the impulse to retch and break something.

Later that night, he didn’t make love to Hannah. He fucked her, hard and rough, pouring out all his frustration and anger, Jamie’s shaky, forced smile before his eyes. When she came, moaning and shuddering around him, he pulled out, rolled out of the bed, and went to the bathroom.

He stared at his naked body in the mirror, at his heaving chest and hard dick. He thought of all those times he had unthinkingly, unknowingly hurt Jamie, flaunting how happy he was with Hannah. Of all those times he told Jamie that he loved Hannah. Of all those times he kissed Hannah in front of him. Of all those bright smiles Jamie gave him afterward.

Ryan slammed his fist in the mirror.

Chapter 9

Sometimes James wasn’t sure whether telling Ryan about his feelings had made everything better or worse. It was better in the sense that he didn’t have to lie all the time and pretend to be happy when he felt like shit. It was better in the sense that Ryan had stopped flaunting how happy he was with Hannah.

But in other ways, it was much, much worse. Because he could feel Ryan’s pity, Ryan’s guilt, the effort Ryan made to keep their relationship no different from before. And it was bloody awful. Sometimes James felt like yelling at Ryan that he didn’t need his pity, that he wasn’t a fragile vase that would break at any mention of Hannah. Other times he could barely stop himself from kissing Ryan, because he was so damn good to him, always overprotective, wanting to shield Jamie from any hurt and harm, even if he was the one who ultimately hurt him.

“Is it just me, or is Ryan playing the matchmaker?” Luke said, tearing him away from his thoughts.