On a Roll by Beth Bolden (best historical biographies TXT) 📕

Maybe Sean thought he didn’t love him, because he didn’t know how to let himself.

The other option was just not one that Gabriel would accept, because he’d felt the warmth and strength of Sean’s affection and care himself, and he’d known it wasn’t just one-sided. Sean had never pushed him away, not once, he’d only drawn him closer and closer, until it felt like Gabriel’s heart was beating right next to his.

“You already feel that way about me,” Gabriel said, and yeah, maybe it came out a little cocky. But he was cocky, about this anyway. He’d won Sean’s love, even if Sean didn’t know it, and that was one of the greatest, if not the greatest thing, he’d ever done in his life.

“I don’t want you to get your hopes up,” Sean said carefully. “I don’t know what I feel.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Gabriel said, reaching for him again, but Sean took a step back, and then another one.

“Your feelings and my . . . well, I don’t know what I feel. Not even close. Because of that, at least, maybe we should take a break from each other, at least for a little while,” Sean said, like he wasn’t in the process of trying to burn down Gabriel’s world. All his hope, beginning to crumble, a little bit at a time. Because what if he never realized how he felt? What if he was just as sure as Gabriel was? What if this was the stalemate that ended up killing them?

He’d been so sure that the stupid fucking name would be the end of them.

But what if it was something more insidious, something buried a lot deeper, something that Gabriel couldn’t fix as easily as filing new paperwork and ordering a new sign for the truck?

What if it was Sean’s history with his dead husband that had doomed them before they could ever begin?

Gabriel already knew he couldn’t fight a memory, which was why he had deliberately never done it. And he wasn’t going to start now.

Not when Sean had been so fucking clear. He’d even said the words. He’d told Gabriel how much he’d loved Milo, and when Gabriel had given him the opportunity to move on, to tell Gabriel how much he loved him, he’d refused to say it.

Gabe’s throat closed up.

How could one person be so fucking right and so completely fucking wrong, all in the same moment, about the exact same thing?

But Sean was right; what they needed was a break from each other.

He turned, and without saying a single word, walked away.

It turned out that, no matter what, he was always going to give Sean what he wanted. Even if it was the totally wrong fucking thing.

———

There was nothing that Sean thought could possibly hurt worse than the moment he’d opened the door of the apartment he’d shared with Milo and the look on the police officer’s face had ruined his life.

But this felt second to that. Watching Gabriel walk away, the muscles of his back tight and strained as he left.

Left him.

Except that Gabriel wouldn’t have, he’d never have left his side, if Sean hadn’t pushed him away. He loved him.

How did you even respond to a thing like that if you were genuinely sure you didn’t know how you felt? It would have been betrayal of the very worst kind to lie, and say that he knew. It would have been somehow even worse to tell Gabriel that he loved him back.

He hadn’t known what to say or do, flayed bare by Gabriel’s simple confession. Space had seemed like a very good idea, and something that Sean desperately needed, until he watched Gabe walk away, and then it felt like the very worst.

Sean picked up his glass and drained his drink in one gulp.

Shaw, the bartender, shot him a sympathetic look. “Hard day?” he asked.

It had started out so great. Even after Luca and the sudden shock of finding out that Gabe had had a plan this whole time, it still hadn’t been so bad. The new wrap had sold like crazy, and he’d almost been too busy to agonize. But as the afternoon had worn on, he’d been sure about one thing: he hadn’t really been angry at Gabriel. Surprised, maybe, and dismayed at how easily Luca had pushed him around. But not angry.

“Weird day,” Sean said instead.

Shaw began to pour him another drink, even though Sean hadn’t intended to order another. It felt too much like falling into old habits that he’d sworn to himself that he’d never revisit again. But, as he watched Shaw’s fingers move so confidently through the motions, what would be the harm of it?

What he really wanted was to talk to someone. Not just someone. One of his friends. Maybe Tony or Lucas or Tate. Even Ash, though he was rarely as sympathetic as the others. But how could he, when they didn’t know the whole story?

He’d have to lead with, “By the way, I have this dead husband that I’ve never mentioned to any of you,” and Sean wasn’t stupid or even remotely drunk enough to believe that was a great way to start anything.

Of course, that was exactly how it had started with Gabriel.

Even thinking his name ached.

Sean took the glass from Shaw’s hand. “Thanks,” he said.

Shaw leaned over the bar. “You know, I’ve been told I have a good ear for problems, and you, my man, look like you have a real problem.”

He couldn’t help but sigh. He did have a problem. “What would you do if you found out that a friend of yours had a whole history that you didn’t know about?”

“Did this friend lie to me about it?” Shaw asked, straightening and starting to wipe out drying glasses. “Or did they just omit the details?”

“Isn’t lying by omission a form of lying?” Sean wondered.

Shaw shrugged. “I think it’s whatever they decide it is,” he said.

“They?”

“You’re talking about your friends, aren’t you?” Shaw was smart; Sean had always known