Taylor

I was too stunned to realize Scott had left until I found myself sitting tense on the edge of my bed, and the door had slammed in my direction. Strangely, a nervous feeling of peace filled me. Even though my chest hurt a little, I was sitting there, not understanding, comprehension way past me.

Slowly, I raised my hands, closed my eyes, and slid my hands across my hot cheeks. My fingers were icy cold, and the shock knocked me back down from the fuzziness I was floating in. Oh my God.

Oh my God, why did I tell him to leave?

What's going to happen now? How can I ever apologize? This is completely my fault, I shouldn't have tried to make him feel worse than he already did, I thought, my shoulder blades shaking and waves of a sick lonely feeling invading my abdomen. For a minute I thought I was seriously going to vomit from feeling so bad, but it passed, and I eased myself onto my back. The white ceiling didn't give me much to stare at, but I lost myself in the sea of whiteness, and listened to the distant traffic.

I can't believe he'd go so far as to suggest that I forced him into doing what we did together. A hot blush covered my cheeks, just remembering the vision of him in his boxers, remembering the way his lips had traced the skin of my cock, thinking about the intimate encounters we'd had. It had to mean something. It had to. I swear I felt love in his kiss. I closed my eyes again. Or maybe I just had too much love for the both of us, and I was feeling the residual side effects of my own love.

Still, he didn't have to lie to me! I in no way wanted to force him to tell me he loved me, and I would have never told him my feelings for him if he hadn't told me first. I was trapped in the very situation I was trying to prevent in the first place. And when he'd laughed at me so bitterly, lamenting about how he was just horny, I could have burst out into tears. (But I haven't cried since I was about seven; I just never cry.) I know how cheated he felt of a normal life and a normal opportunity to fall in love, but hadn't I given him an opportunity? I would give Scott anything he wanted, ever. If Scott wanted me, I was going to give myself to him. But he never wanted me, he just wanted a fucking blow job!

My fingers tightened, wrinkling the comforter into my grip. I've never felt so worthless in my entire life.

Abruptly, the door to the bedroom came swinging open.

"Okay, what the hell was that all about? Did you insult Scott's hair or something?" Zac wanted to know, stalking right in and slamming the door shut behind him. I grimaced.

"My God, Zac. Leave me alone."

"Hell no, Taylor. Not until I know why Scott ran out crying," he answered. My jaw dropped.

"He was crying?"

Zac gave me a simple "duh" look. "Yeah."

I felt a brick of confusion smash me in the back of the skull. "Why?"

"That's just what I was about to ask you, seeing as how he came rushing out of here like Michael Meyers was after him."

I sat up again as Zac said this, trying to piece together unclear fragments of a puzzle.

"So?" Zac asked. I jumped.

"So what?"

"God, Tay, you get blonder and blonder every day!"

I sighed. "We had an argument."

I could almost hear Zac's jaw hitting the floor. "You're serious?"

I nodded.

"About what?! Oh, about the photo, right?" Zac asked.

I shook my head this time. "No . . ."

Zac looked at me expectantly, and seeing the look on my face, decided to join me sitting on the bed. "Oh my God, it was bad, wasn't it?"

I sighed a long sigh. "I don't know. I told him to get out."

Zac's face was amazed. "Why?"

"Zac, I . . ." I was about to tell him how I didn't want to go into any details, but found myself pouring out how he'd said that our entire relationship was based upon his being horny and how it was just something that "happened."

Zac

I listened to Taylor's voice, completely astounded.

"Sorry, Zac . . . I didn't mean to disclose too much information," Taylor said softly, looking down at his black boots. "You probably did not need to know the details of Scott being horny."

I bit my lip. I had a few things Tay didn't need to know about, myself. "No, I don't care."

"Seriously?" Tay asked. "You used to be a little prick about it, now I find you caring in a strange way. Where did this come from?"

I shrugged nonchalantly. "I dunno. I was just given the opportunity to think about it, and it just - if you and Scott are in love, then . . . why should it be any different? It shouldn't be. I know I can be really idiotic sometimes, but all homophobia aside, I care about you 'cause you're my brother, and if Scott makes you happy, then that makes me happy. I guess."

Taylor offered me a twisted smile. "Well, now I know I just don't make Scott happy, so I guess this whole thing was some twist of fate, and I guess I took it the wrong way. I think in the end, Scott just wasn't in it for the same reason as me."

I stared at my brother. His blue eyes held something . . . even though he was acting very calm about it, I could see a glimmer of pain in the back of his mind somewhere. I felt genuinely sorry for him.

"You - you really love him, don't you?"

Taylor bit his lip and looked away from me. "I guess that doesn't matter."

"Aw . . . Tay . . . I don't know what to tell you. "I'm sorry that this happened. But, I just, I don't really see how Scott could have just . . . it doesn't seem right. He really seems to reciprocate your feelings."

"I would never be so bold as to say he did. But the point is, he told me he did, and he took it all back and dismissed me. He pretty much lied to me. It feels kind of like he reached into my chest, yanked out my heart, and squeezed it dry." Taylor's hand crept up over his heart, and he effectively squeezed the shirt on his chest.

"Well, he obviously felt pretty bad, because he was crying when he came out of the bedroom," I said helpfully.

Taylor slowly smoothed some strands of hair behind his ears. "Since I've met Scott, that's the second time he's cried. I'm beginning to think crying doesn't speak much for his emotions."

"Are things going to be incredibly awkward between you guys now?" I questioned Taylor. He just shrugged.

"I wish I knew."

Suddenly, I reached over and gave Taylor a fierce hug, surprising the crap out him, and then let him go again. He arched his eyebrows at me. "You look like you needed it," I said softly.

Taylor smiled at me. "I never will be prepared for what you do next, Zac."

I reached out and messed up his ponytail. He rolled his eyes at me and sighed.

"I cannot believe any of this is happening. It feels like a bad dream. And things were so good yesterday."

"Tay, don't worry about it." I put my hand on his shoulder. "Things can only get better. Want me to talk to Scott?"

"No, this is my problem. Don't bother." Taylor rubbed his forehead harshly, like he had a migrane.

"Well, Tay, you have to do something. If you love Scott, don't just sit there. I don't care what he says, I know how he looked at you and I heard him singing that stupid song to you, and well, I know you two have sort of a physical relationship . . . so, I for once will have undying faith in a little emotion called love, and I say, Scott is nuts about you and if you don't get back together with him I am going to KICK YOUR ASS. You're so stupid. You obviously belong together, so screw whatever you fought about, get over it, and kiss and make up."

Tay just laughed at my speech. "If only it were that easy. I don't think Scott even wanted to be with me in the first place. I'm not about to go up to him and say, 'I know you don't really like me, but will you lead me on anyway?'"

I stood up and walked towards the door. "Okay, fine. If you won't do something, I will."