Broken Strings

Twenty-Three

"I don't know," Travis admitted. Yet he didn't pull away either.

They didn't speak for a few moments. Just stood there in the woods, sharing the same space.

Finally, Brock went for honesty to break the awkwardness that was slowly creeping in. "I haven't been able to get you out of my head. Not just after last night but...for a while."

Travis finally raised his eyes and the brown was so dark and soft and open that Brock's breath caught in his throat. "Is that true?"

"I wouldn't lie. Not about something like this."

"If I'm being honest, you've been living rent-free in my head. Ever since my sister's stupid dinner party...I see your face when I close my eyes, hear your voice in my sleep. I can't seem to rid myself of you, Brock. No matter what I do, you're always there. And then last night..."

Brock stepped closer. Just a few inches but something electric sparked the closer they stood. He focused on Travis' eyes, marking every slight change in hue that made up the deep brown of his irises. "Last night," he whispered.

"When you kissed me."

"When I kissed you."

"How did you know?" Travis asked then. "Really know about me and Sam?"

"It wasn't you," Brock said. "It was Sam. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you. There was too much in his face to be unrequited love. Maybe not love. That's not the right word. Lust, I guess. That's closer. Longing. And he looks at you like he's seen you naked," he added wryly.

Travis choked out a laugh, his face brightening with shock. "What?"

Brock chuckled alongside him. "It's true! Every time he thought you weren't looking, he was staring at you. Then I got to see him turn away like he was jealous when every time you broke eye contact with him, you turned to look at me."

That was part of the reason Brock had kissed Travis the other night. Not just because he'd been enamoured by him since the moment they'd met. Not because the man was kind and funny and was infinitely more capable of than he even believed. No, he'd kissed him because Travis had kept turning away from Sam and turning towards Brock.

He didn't know if it had been a conscious thing or not on Travis' part but each time their eyes had met, his heart had skipped a beat. His breathing had hitched. And then he'd just known, completely, irrevocably, that Travis was interested in him.  

"I did," Travis admitted. "I looked to you."

"Why?"

Say it, Brock thought. Just say that you're interested in me too. I know you are. Say it.

"Because I like looking at you. More than that I like how you look at me."

"And how do I look at you?"

He watched as Travis' throat bobbed. "You look at me and I-I feel seen."

"I do see you. Each time we've talked and joked and laughed, I see you."

They were close enough that he got to see the shame race across Travis' face, less than an inch separating them. It was chased by regret and even a hint of disgust.

A flare of shock pulsed through Brock's chest because he couldn't quite fathom why–

"Ginger," Travis said then, pulling back slightly just before their lips could touch. "I'm with Ginger."

"You're gay," Brock replied and then because he wasn't entirely sure, added, "Or bi?"

Travis continued as if he hadn't heard him. He stepped back, nearly stumbling over a tree root. "I can't—I can't do this. I'm sorry."

"You said you can't stop thinking about me and I feel the same about you. Is that untrue" Brock lifted his brows in a challenging stare.

"No, of course it's not true but – it doesn't matter. I'm with Ginger and you'll be leaving in a few days."

Brock strode forward, once again closing the distance between them. "Would it matter if I wasn't leaving? Would that change things?"

For a moment, cold fear raced across Travis' face. "No," he whispered. "It wouldn't change things. You—you can be gay in Los Angeles. It's different than here. There's plenty of good people in my town. Plenty who wouldn't give a shit, I think. But there's plenty who would – not just here but on the circuit. When you're in my line of work..."

"Yet you have Sam."

"You don't know anything about me and Sam."

"Enlighten me."

Brock thought Travis might decline but then he exhaled long and slow, and then he slumped onto a nearby tree stump. "We met on the circuit a while back and that's where we kept it. On the circuit. We don't meet, we don't talk, we don't do anything with each other unless we're face to face. Nobody knows. Hell, Sam is getting married to a lovely woman for Christ's sake."

Brock frowned at that new information. "So the two of you are just living a lie?"

Travis looked up sharply. "You think I don't feel like an asshole for what Sam and I are? The fact that he and I are together in shitty motel rooms

"Aren't you? I don't see you being out and loud and proud."

"How do you know that?" Brock paused, peering at Travis' face which held just the slightest hint of shame. "Did you Google me?"

"Of course I did. After you kissed me, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't—couldn't do anything but think about you so I searched you up. And what I saw is a guy who has never been linked – ever – to another guy. You've only had girlfriends—"

"Publicity stunts," Brock replied. "Just because I keep it from my professional life—"

"That's what I'm doing too."

Brock snapped, "It's different. My family knows. My friends know. It's only a secret to the people, like my fans, who aren't involved in every aspect of my life. I think the fact that you're admitting to sneaking around with a man who is engaged is the biggest tell. You don't want your family or friends to know."

Travis lurched to his feet. "You're right. I don't. Not now, maybe not ever. And even if I did tell them, what would be the point? I'd tell them and I'd be floundering alone in an ocean of my own design. Sam won't leave his fiancé and you—hell, even if there was something happening between us, it wouldn't last. You're going back to L.A. and I can't risk my entire life on a fling. I can't, Brock. I'm sorry and I don't know what you were hoping to hear from this but..."

The sting of rejection flared through Brock's vein but then he found himself pausing, considering those words. What had he been hoping to hear? Yes, they were both attracted to each other, that much was clear, but Travis was right. Brock was leaving in a few days. He hadn't yet picked the date but...he wouldn't be staying here forever. And he could not pretend for a moment that they had made the sort of connection that could span the distance between Oklahoma and California, not to mention trump the relationship Travis had with Ginger. He liked Travis – wanted Travis – but beyond that?

Even Brock didn't know if this attraction between them even had the capability of developing into anything further.

"I'm sorry," Travis said. "But last night was a mistake. I hope you finish your song."

Then get out of my life, were the unspoken words Brock thought Travis hadn't bothered to say.

And before Brock could even attempt to formulate a response, Travis was gone, leaving him alone in the trees.