Maybe one day he’ll be ready to hear it.

I can’t deny that it’s been easier now that he knows everything. Sure, there’s still a massive fucking elephant in the room that seems to be hovering over our every interaction, breathing down our backs whenever there’s a lag in conversation, or poking its big fat head between us anytime our banter takes a turn into territory that once scared the shit out of me...

And turn, it does...

But it’s different now.

Something changed that morning, and I know he senses it as much as I do. Will might have been the one to put the first crack in the foundation, but I’m the one who let what walls were left standing shatter completely.

And I’d be a lying liar if I said I regretted any of it.

Doesn’t mean I’m ready to face any of it, though.

I’m yanked back to the present when a group of girls call me over.

On auto-pilot, I quickly pour out a line of Fireball shots as several loud whoops sound from nearby. The televisions blare with whistles and shouts, competing with the noise of the bar. I assume something big must have just happened on the screens.

One of the girls tries talking to me—tall, pretty, with long strawberry blonde hair and big blue eyes. I’ve never seen her before, making her an ideal hook-up. Normally, I’d strike up a conversation. Flirt a bit, with the expectation that I’ll find her when I get a break.

It’s not the first time I’ve been approached since my little breakdown. There’ve been several occasions where I found myself talking—flirting, even—with a cute, clearly interested girl...

Only to clam up when it was time to actually go in for the kill.

Now, I don’t even bother trying. I know it’s not going anywhere. I don’t even feel tempted to try. What’s even the point?

I’d like to say therapy and sobriety are the cause of my newly self-imposed celibacy, but that would be a fucking lie. This girl is gorgeous—I can’t deny that—and yet my dick wants no part of it.

Remember the good ol’ days when I could lie to myself?

Yeah, me too.

So I force what I hope passes as a smile and walk away, not missing the confused little furrow in her brow. I’m aware of the reputation I’ve built over the years, and it wouldn’t surprise me if she heard of me through friends of friends and the like. It’s the curse of living in a small-ass town. And it’s a reputation I embraced wholeheartedly.

Until now.

I probably should be freaking out more about this.