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I was twenty-eight when I found out that I’ll never beat it. My name is Jake Tully, and I’m an addict.
“Holy fuck. You can smile.” A laugh bursts out of my mouth, and I swear to God, you’d think I just made Felix’s day. He looks so proud to hear it.
“What are you doing?” I look down at the cookie sheet I’ve just pulled out of the oven, the one I’m still currently holding in front of myself. “Knitting a sweater.” “Oh, he’s got jokes today.” “My whole life is a fucking joke.” I sigh and shake my head as CJ walks over. “I don’t know why I said that. I didn’t mean it.”
I want him to know it doesn’t really bother me, I’m just curious about his reason. I want to tell him it hasn’t always been exclusively girls for me.
So, being a holyfuckingshit master at making brownies is apparently a thing.
can I drive us tonight? please? my car stopped smelling like u and it sucks so much :(
“Can you say it? Please?” Can I say it? Yes. I so very easily can. “He touched you. Nobody touches you.”
“The only reason I haven’t fucked you yet is because you’re my sponsor.”
“Everything is stacked against us,” I say. “We’d be a tragedy, Felix. This wouldn’t work.” His smile is confusing. “You don’t agree?” I ask, and how fucked up is it that I actually hope he doesn’t. “No. I agree.” He steps closer and presses one (last) kiss to my mouth. “I just know that wouldn’t stop me.”
“I love you so much, it’s sick.” I throw my arms around him, squeeze for a solid second, and then release. “What a great first hug.” “We really didn’t hug. I just stood here.” “I felt the embrace of your body.” “Never say that again.” “It sounded sexual. I hear it now.” “I’m leaving,” he says as he gives me his back.
And if holding your hand like you’re my boyfriend wasn’t a hint; I’ll spell it out for you—I want you to be my boyfriend.”
B Is For Boyfriend (And Butt-Fucking) (Sorry. Please Keep Reading)
“You make me feel better than any drug I’ve ever taken. And I’ve taken a lot of drugs, Felix.”
“Because I’ve waited my whole life for you. And for this. Us.” I squeeze his hands. “You’re my fucking family, Jake, and we’ll fight this. Together.”
Today, I am eight hundred and twenty-seven days sober. My name is Jake Tully and I’m an addict. And I’ll always be an addict. I’ll never beat this. But I’ll keep going to meetings, and I’ll talk to my sponsor (who I’m going to ask to marry me), and I’ll fight this until I win. We are going to win.
