GoodWithHisHands: I knew you were. I wanted to see your grin so many times over the past few weeks, and now I know I’ve seen it my whole life.
Fuck. I needed to stop this, stop going there.
GoodWithHisHands: I need to try and get some sleep.
TheDoctorIsIn: Yeah, me too. I have an early shift at the hospital.
GoodWithHisHands: Talk to you later, friend.
TheDoctorIsIn: Talk to you later, friend.
While Hutch and I said we’d be friends, I didn’t message him again that day, and he didn’t either. We didn’t meet on the app, nor talk while we cooked or had dinner the next night either—or the next, or the next.
I missed it, but I figured we were feeling things out, letting it all settle. Why did two buddies need to message each other every night? Why did we need to eat and watch TV while asking the other what they thought of a game or telling them they hadn’t put enough seasoning in their meal—that was usually Hutch, not me.
Missing our conversations was starting to wear on me. It was crazy how quickly a person could get used to something, and I’d gotten used to spending evenings with my doc…with Hutch. This was never supposed to turn into a situation where I missed him, where I felt a little extra lonely if I didn’t talk to him. It was so fucked up, and yet I couldn’t make myself regret us having anonymously met up on the app…which told me I was more of an asshole than I’d ever thought.
When Kinsley texted and asked if I had time to leave work to have lunch with her, I jumped at the chance. I was used to talking to my sister about things, but I couldn’t with this. Still, I wanted to be around her.
We met up at a casual taco spot, where you ordered at the counter, then took your food to your seat. We chose a table outside.
“What’s new with you?” I asked before taking a bite.
“Not much. Mitch and I are thinking about having a threesome to spice things up.”
I nearly spit out my taco. My sister had always been open with me. We didn’t have a ton of secrets between us. She’d always been a bit wilder than me, though I didn’t know that extended to sex. Not that I wouldn’t have a threesome or hadn’t, but she and Mitch had been together almost two years, so it surprised me. “That a problem with you guys?”
“No, not really. I guess I didn’t mean to spice things up, but just…for fun? I don’t know. We’ve always had a really active sex life. We’ve done a lot of things, and now—”
“Too much information,” I cut her off, making her laugh. But then, I was curious, so I asked, “Girl or guy?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know, little brother?” She winked and ate one of the nachos she’d ordered.
“Brat.”
We ate some more and talked about random things—work and our parents—but no more sex, and…I couldn’t get Hutch off my mind. I wanted to talk to her about him but wasn’t sure how without telling the truth. I wasn’t ready for that, and I doubted Hutch wanted me to say anything either.
“Hey,” I asked as nonchalantly as I could, “you and Hutch were always pretty close when we were kids—closer than I was with him. What’s he really like?”
“Sad,” she answered without hesitation.
My brows drew together. “Sad?”
“Yeah, though I don’t think most people see it. I don’t even know if he knows it. He hides it well, but I’ve always sensed a sadness…a loneliness to Hutch. He’s a blast to be around. He’s smart and funny, likes to have a good time, and would do anything for someone he cares about, but yeah, I think there’s more going on inside him than most people know is there. Why?”
I shrugged, shifting uncomfortably at her answer, but in the back of my mind, knowing it was true. Hutch was sad. Hutch was lonely. I suddenly wanted to ease that more than I wanted anything else. “No reason. I just see him at the hospital when I’m volunteering, so I was curious. He’s hard to read. You thought that about him even when we were kids?”
“Yeah, maybe even more than I do now, but I also knew him better back then. He used to sneak off on his own a lot. He doesn’t seem to let people in—not really. Not to the true parts of him. Grant is too hard on him.”
“Do you think that’s why he’s sad?”
“Could be,” she replied. “But a person doesn’t have to have a reason to feel sad or alone, Ry. Sometimes they just feel it because it’s part of who they are.”
I nodded, knowing she was right.
“He always had a lot of friends, and every girl I knew wanted him. He hooked up with most of them. But again, sometimes I could see it in his eyes—he was wearing a facade; he wanted to slip away.”