Home to Whiskey Creek (Whiskey Creek #4)(48)
Author: Brenda Novak

“Of course not. What can he say? ‘I hate you for loving me? I’m completely grossed out by the fact that you want to get naked with me? Stay the hell away?’ He doesn’t have to say those things. I know he feels them.”

She sighed into the phone. “Was anyone else around?”

He went to stand at the window. It was getting light outside. He was glad of that, glad the long night was finally over. Not that daybreak made his situation any easier. Now he’d have to face the results of his actions. “No one I need to worry about.”

“Wow,” she breathed. “So…what’s next?”

He glanced around his house. Built in 1894, it was listed on the historic registry, along with a handful of other buildings in Whiskey Creek, and it was spectacular, everything he’d hoped it would be. He’d spent three years restoring it, but now he felt he’d been foolish to remain in such a conservative community, to perpetuate the illusion he’d maintained since he first began to suspect he was g*y. His love for Noah and his other friends had held him here, but there suddenly didn’t seem to be any reason to hang on. He needed to sell his place. He could find a condo or other accommodation in San Francisco, where he worked. “I guess I’ll move to the city.”

“Bax, I want you to be happy. You know I do. So if San Francisco will make you happier, I’m all for it. I’ll drive over often. But…don’t go because you feel we won’t accept you for who you are. Give us a chance.”

“Callie, if word gets out, I’ll have to leave. My father’s the biggest homophobe in Northern California. I don’t want to be an embarrassment to him.”

“He loves you.”

That was about all she could say. It was true. But that love held him hostage. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing it. “I’m his only son. Every time I see him, we have to go hunting, as much as I hate that, or watch a football game. You know, scratch our balls, beat our chests, talk about how much we love big tits. A few months ago he took me to a strip club, for crying out loud.”

“Your mother didn’t mind?”

“He said there are a few things we don’t tell her.”

“He’s not cheating…”

“No, he’s just trying to make a man out of me.”

“Imagine setting all that aside.”

He recognized the sarcasm in her voice but didn’t react to it. “I can’t imagine it, because I’d be setting my father aside at the same time. That’s who he is.”

“He has to suspect, Bax. The way you look at Noah. I hate to tell you this, but sometimes it’s obvious.”

“Not to my dad. He doesn’t notice how I look at other guys because he doesn’t want to see it. I can hunt. I can fish. I can play sports. I’ve had girlfriends. I pass the ‘not g*y’ litmus test. He doesn’t care if I have to pretend.”

“I’m so sorry, Bax. I wish…I wish there was something I could do to change that.”

“So do I.” A gunmetal-gray Dodge Ram pulled out of the stream of traffic traveling down Sutter Street and stopped in front of his house, and his heart leaped into his throat. “Holy hell.”

“What?” she cried.

“Noah’s here.”

16

Noah had never felt more awkward in his life. He wasn’t even sure why, after Addy left, he’d gotten up, showered and driven over to Baxter’s Victorian. His relationship with Bax could never be what it was. As far as Noah was concerned, the very nature of who Baxter was had changed. So what did he have to gain by coming here?

Maybe nothing. But Baxter had been part of his life for so long, he couldn’t remain angry.

He hoped they could find some middle ground, some way to continue as friends, even if things were a bit uncomfortable for a while. And he figured it was better to get this first painful confrontation over with as soon as possible. If he put it off, or they weren’t able to work through the strong emotions the incident at the cabin had provoked, the rest of their friends would pick up on the strain and it would become a big issue, possibly dividing the whole group.

Learning that Baxter had a crush on him was hard enough to deal with; Noah didn’t want to challenge his other relationships at the same time.

“I’m surprised to see you.” Baxter didn’t open the door very wide, didn’t invite Noah in.

Noah shifted from one foot to the other. He’d never seen his friend’s eyes so red. He’d never seen him this unkempt, either. Somehow Baxter managed to look his typical stylish self even when he had a hangover. But not today. Today he had on the clothes he’d worn last night, sleeves rolled up and shirttails hanging out. And his skin was unusually pale beneath the dark shadow of beard that covered the lower half of his face.

Noah guessed he hadn’t been to bed. “I’m surprised to be here,” he admitted.

“Why’d you come?”

He shrugged. “We’ve been friends all our lives. I guess that’s why.”

Baxter said nothing.

“Does anyone else know?” Noah asked.

He winced. “About last night?”

“That you’re g*y, Bax. Let’s start with that.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No, I’m not kidding! I mean…” Noah gazed off into the neighbor’s yard before looking back. “Am I the only one who didn’t know?”

Somehow the thought of that bothered him as much as all the rest of it.

“No. I haven’t said a word to anyone. Except Callie.” He leaned into the door. “And only because she kept badgering me about it.”

Baxter had spent a lot of time with Callie this summer, while she was sick. Noah could see why he might confide in her, but that made him feel betrayed by both of them, as if they were keeping this great secret from him. Callie was his friend, too. She could’ve warned him. Instead, she’d allowed him to be blindsided.

“You should’ve told me.”

“You didn’t want to know.”

Noah couldn’t refute that, which made it hard to blame Callie, too, so he continued listing his grievances. “You pretended to be straight! You talked about girls. You…you played football. You took showers with us. You went skinny-dipping at the water hole whenever we went. Hell, we got laid for the first time on a double date the week we moved into our dorm at San Diego State. We slept with so many girls that year it wasn’t even funny.”