Broken Compass

Holy motherfucking hell.

He’s kissing me. Nate’s kissing the fuck out of me, his big hand cradling the back of my head, his other gripping my shoulder as he takes over, turning me on like nobody’s business.

And no sign of freaking out—at least on his part. As for me, I’m not sure how I feel about this. I’m shaken, throttled, hollowed out and burning with want.

So what does that mean?

“It means giving up control freaks me out,” Nate says a bit later, not addressing the real matter.

Not addressing the fact that he kissed a guy, properly and thoroughly. That he kissed me, all teeth and tongue and violent lips.

I’d think I was the only one affected, but the tent in his pants tells me otherwise.

“The moment I took control, I was okay,” he goes on, knees drawn up, hands dangling between them. “Yeah, that’s it. That’s the answer.”

Is it, though? I study his face, more familiar to me than my own. Despite the boner, he’

s still pale, and his hands are trembling. “You sure?”

“It worked, man. That’s the only thing that matters.”

Yeah, looks like we’re not addressing that kiss. Which shouldn’t fucking matter to me at all.

“Nate, look, about what we did—”

“No offense, man, but I like girls better.”

“Same.” I sigh. “Same, dude. Anyway… glad this helped. Go get her, tiger.”

He elbows me, and I grin at him. We’re good. It doesn’t matter if I want Syd for myself, if I also want more with Nate.

I’ll see him happy even if it breaks my fucking heart.

Long after he leaves to work, I wander around the apartment in a daze. I pick up the brush and bleach, put them back down.

I don’t know what to do with myself, and as anxiety fills me, the tics get worse. I don’t have nearly as many as I had while Nate kept away from me, but my mind is knotting up into loops and twists until I’m about to howl.

So I slam the apartment door behind me and walk away, no destination in mind. I wind through narrow streets and shady lanes, avenues and alleys.

If Nate dates Sydney… what does it mean for my friendship with her, and him, and Kash? Will Kash leave? Will Sydney still come over?

Will I never hold her and kiss her again?

Fuck. It’s all sinking in, and my heart keeps racing. It won’t slow down. It’s realized what I’m starting to absorb: things are about to change. And I don’t deal well with change.

I also don’t fucking deal well with the prospect of seeing the guys—and Syd, goddammit—less, not being as close to them as I thought we were growing to be. Somehow I thought… I thought we’d be together.

All of you? A snide voice in the back of my head asks. It sounds like Grandpa’s. You’re a goddamn fucking loser, Weston. You’re worthless, and you deserve nothing, so why did you even consider you could get your wish?

Yeah. All this.

By the time I stop walking and look for a way back home, dark is falling, and nothing has changed. My heart is still racing. My mind is still twisted up.

And when I get home, it’s still the same mess it was when I left.

But no, wait. I’m actually totally wrong on this one.

It’s about to get so much worse.