“Let me guess.” One brow shifted marginally higher. “He’s so deep into that walk-in-sized closet of his he couldn’t find his way out with a flashlight, a GPS, and a search-and-rescue team.”
“That’s what I originally thought,” Alec said. “But he truly has no hang-ups when it comes to labels. Gay, straight, bi, and every shade in between. He just doesn’t care. It’s almost funny.” Alec watched the fading light filter through the trees outside, wishing he could laugh. “I’m the guy who’s supposed to be protesting the limitation of labels. And yet, all along, I’m the one who tried to force Dylan to accept one.”
“Most people need labels because they bring a measure of security.”
“Exactly,” Alec said.
Tyler crossed his arms. “Then what’s the problem with Dylan?”
Stumped, Alec considered the question before letting out a self-chastising scoff.
“I guess it’s another labeling issue. I want him to accept that we’re in a relationship, and the idea freaks him out.” Alec slowly blew out a breath. “He doesn’t care if people know we eat dinner together every evening or that he spends most every night in my bed. But God forbid you call him my boyfriend.”
“So he’s afraid of being in a relationship.”
Fear. The word did sum up the problem nicely. Dylan had learned to live with the loss of his mother and then his father. But Rick’s death had been one loss too many.
“I just don’t know where to go from here,” Alec said.
“Well, I know how important being part of a couple is to you.”
Pressure made Alec’s throat ache as he looked at his ex. In the days that followed Tyler moving out, Alec had been too busy throwing a pity party to realize he was a major part of their problems. He’d mourned the loss of the couple label more than the loss of his partner.
God, I’ve been such a dick.
“I’m sorry, Tyler. I didn’t mean to use you that way.”
As always, Tyler’s eyes remained cool and calm, but the muscle in his jaw clenched—the only sign of his discomfort. “It’s okay,” he said. “Took me a while to figure everything out. I wasn’t exactly Mr. Perceptive.”
“No, it’s not okay. I ignored us in my focus on the clinic and ending Proposition 8. Essentially, I totally took you for granted. And you deserve better than that.”
Tyler gave a single nod. “I do.” He lifted a shoulder with his signature economy of movement. “Then again, doesn’t everyone?”
They slipped into a companionable silence, and Alec leaned against the wall, grateful they’d managed to salvage their friendship. He was going to need all the friends he could get to survive the loneliness of the next few weeks. Months.
Years.
Christ. Alec fought the need to close his eyes against the painful thought.
Hip parked against the counter, Tyler crossed his ankles. “What are you going to do about Dylan?”
The sudden weight in Alec’s chest made his heart’s job difficult. That very question had been eating at him since Dylan took off. Alec was no closer to an answer now then he was back then.
“I don’t know,” Alec said.
He hated the way Tyler was looking at him. As if his ex knew Alec had waded into the deep-shit end of trouble and things were about to get worse.
“You love him,” Tyler said.
“Yeah,” Alec said. “I do.”
Tyler’s eyes remained steady, and two seconds ticked by before he spoke.
“I think you should go see Dylan,” Tyler said. “Tell him how you feel.”
“I already told him, and he left anyway. I don’t think he wants to see me again.”
“Who cares? Don’t make the same mistake I did, Alec. Don’t let him walk away without putting up a fight.”
And although the words were delivered with a detached tone—Noah didn’t call Tyler The Ice Man for nothing—clearly, when it came to Memphis Haines, Tyler had regrets.
“Do whatever it takes to fix things with Dylan, Alec.” Tyler stepped closer, his colorless gray eyes as close to expressive as Alec had ever seen. “Before it’s too late.”
Chapter Sixteen
In the end, Alec decided he needed to call his mother before climbing on his motorcycle to hunt Dylan down. If he expected Dylan to stop closing himself off to the potential between them, then Alec needed to set his own affairs in order first. And that meant living a lie ended today.
He let out a scoff. Funny how the truth involved more than just where he stood in relation to the closet door.
“Hey, Mom,” Alec said after she answered.
“Alec?” She sounded distracted, the sound of shuffling papers in the background. “Is something wrong?”
The answer sat on the tip of his tongue.
Everything.
He dropped onto his couch. “No,” he said and then realized that was another lie. Where to begin? “Well, yes…”
“We never got to say goodbye to Dylan after the award ceremony.”