“What’s up with Mark?” she asks as she nods her head towards the stage.
Turning to look at him, I laugh at the crap mood you can tell he’s in and the neon orange earplugs he’s wearing. I look back at Mel, and say, “He’s hungover.”
“That sucks.”
I look over to see Ryan being mauled by some redhead. He normally pushes off every girl that comes his way, so I’m a bit shocked, and just laugh as I turn back to Mel.
“Looks like he’s back to his old self,” she says with a smirk before walking away to help some customers.
After some time has passed, I watch Ryan take that chick out the back by her hand.
“Hey, Mel,” I holler down the bar. When she looks up at me, I say, “You think I could get a bottle of water when you get a chance?”
“Sure, hun.”
I overhear the two girls next to me talking about Mark and how the one girl plans to slip him her number. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard this. Girls are all over his junk, and lately it’s been making me feel more possessive of him. Everyone assumes he’s single and straight because I’m so self-conscious of what people will think of me if they saw us simply holding hands.
I continue to eavesdrop as they start downing shots and getting drunk. The band takes a break between sets and Mark approaches me as he lifts up the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead, exposing his abs, which the drunken girls thoroughly enjoy. Sitting next to me, his elbows propped up on the bar, I take a big push and lay my arm up on the bar and hold his hand, lacing my fingers with his. He looks over at me and into my eyes as he smiles. I know this gesture means a lot to him, and all that really matters is that this makes him happy.
Chasten comes over to grab a beer, standing next to us.
“Oh my God!” one of the girls yells out, drunk off her ass, and the three of us look over at her. She’s laughing and shaking her head as she looks at Mark before slurring, “You’re a fag?”
I jerk my hand away from his, and my neck heats from fear and embarrassment.
“You’re fucking wasted and need to watch the shit you say,” Chasten barks at her.
I stand up and start walking away, needing to get out of this situation when I hear her continue, “I would have never guessed he was queer.”
When I look back, I see Mark following me and Chasten grabbing the girl’s elbow, dragging her out. I walk through the back door and out into the parking lot, welcoming the cool mist that’s falling.
“Jase, wait!” Mark shouts from behind me, pleading me to stop, but I don’t want to.
Walking to my car, I say over my shoulder, “I just need space, man.” But I need so much more than space.
“That girl was drunk and a total bitch. Don’t let her upset you.”
When I reach my car, I turn around to him and say, “I’m not upset.” Embarrassed. Ashamed. Humiliated.
Walking up to me, he backs me up against the side of the car. “Well you’re something and you shouldn’t be. I don’t want you to be.”
I hang my head down before looking back up at him. “I’m irritated.” I then admit, “The thing is . . . you get a lot of attention from girls, and I feel invisible when what I really want is for people to know that you’re mine. But I don’t know how to do that.”
“You don’t have to do anything. You know I’m yours. I don’t see anyone else but you.” He reaches down and holds my hand. “People will always say shit, but you need to let it go.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know you are,” he says as he slides his free hand around my waist and kisses me. “Come on. Let’s go,” he says and then walks around to the passenger door.
“What are you doing? You still have another set to play.”
“I’m done. My head is pounding, and I feel like shit.” He opens the door and hops in.
When I slide into the driver’s seat, Mark pulls out his cell. “I’ll text Chasten and have him tell the guys.”
“Are they gonna be pissed?”
Reaching over and grabbing my hand, he says, “I don’t care. I just want to go home and lie down.”
I begin to stir and slowly wake up. When I roll over, Mark isn’t there. I lie there for a bit when I hear soft voices coming from the living room. Walking out, I’m surprised to see Candace in Mark’s arms, crying quietly on the couch. Her head is buried in his chest, so she doesn’t see me, and I don’t say anything. Mark looks at me with a slight shake of his head, so I just sit in the chair and stay quiet.
I hurt for her. Seeing her broken and hopeless tears me up inside. I hate the thought that she was so scared or upset that she had to drive here in the middle of the night. I want to hold her, but I let Mark take care of her.
“Wanna talk about it?” he quietly asks her, and when she lifts her splotchy, tear-stained face, she looks over at me.
I give her a reassuring nod, and she looks back at Mark and whispers, “I’m sorry. I . . . I just didn’t want to be alone, but . . . I guess I just didn’t think you’d be here. I’m not used to Jase having a boyfriend.” She stumbles over her words and closes her eyes when she continues. “I’m just so tired.”
“I know,” Mark says as he brushes her hair behind her ear. He tucks her head under his chin, and she clings to him. Mark and I stare at each other across the dark room as he holds her, and I know I’m in deep with him. I love him so much.
Mark has completely been there for me in the past couple months, giving me strength and a shoulder to lean on. I’ve never had that before. I never knew I needed that until him.
Standing up, I walk over and pull Candace up off the couch, and hug her. When Mark starts heading back to the bedroom, I take her hand and follow. She slides into bed with Mark and I on either side. Facing her, I wipe her cheeks with my thumbs and give her a kiss.
“I’m sorry I barged in.”
“You didn’t. I’d rather you be here with us than alone and scared.”
“I just don’t know how much longer I can do this,” she says. “He’s always there at night, and it’s so hard lying in the dark, waiting to fall asleep. But I never know if he’s gonna be there too—in my dreams.”
Mark curls in around her from behind and tells her, “You need to talk to someone.”
I watch as her face scrunches up and she begins to cry again. Leaning my head against hers, she weeps, “I can’t.”
“You can. I know you’re scared, but you can,” Mark tries to convince her.
I look into Mark’s eyes and see the concern. I know Candace wants to ignore and forget. I don’t push it because she doesn’t need to hear it again. “You’ll get past this. There will be a time when it’ll begin to fade,” I tell her.
“But how long will that take?” she whimpers.
Mark wraps his arm over and around her waist, and wedges it in between Candace and me. “However long it takes, you have us, but Jase is right, it will eventually become easier.”
She closes her eyes and lets the tears seep out onto the pillow as I tighten my hold on her.
Even though I know she’s hurting, even though I know her pain is nearly unbearable, this is one of my most favorite places. Next to being in Mark’s arms, being with the two of them, like this, is a close second.
When I walk into the gym, I spot Ryan over by the free weights. I make my way back there and when he finishes his set of squats, he looks over and says, “Hey, man. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“One of my classes was cancelled, so I wanted to come since I figured the afternoon would be dead.”
I walk over and start sliding the weights onto the barbell, securing them with clamps. Pumping out my sets of bench presses, Ryan stands above and spots me. “Got any plans this weekend?” he asks as he grabs the bar from my hands and sets it in the rack.