After the Crash Read online

  Blue.

  Sparkling blue, like the sky on a clear July day.

  There’d been a time long ago when eyes like that had lingered in his mind and followed him into his dreams. But it…

  It couldn’t be.

  There was no universe in which Fox Fraser would crawl into a bush and break down. Marshall, sure, but Fox?

  No.

  It was a pity Marshall’s brain didn’t share the conclusion with the rest of his body. A tingling sensation swept up his arms and tightened the space between his shoulder blades, and his heart beat like he’d just stepped out of a merger negotiation. At last, after a prolonged moment of silence, Marshall’s tongue found the courage to bridge the divide between his mind and body. “Fox?”

  “Marshall.” Fox sat up slowly while keeping his eyes on Marshall. Worry marred his face. “I… ugh. Fuck, you must think I’m crazy.”

  “I don’t.”

  “I don’t normally hide in bushes.”

  “I figured.”

  “I…”

  A cloudiness overcame Fox’s eyes that set Marshall on alert. Before it could intensify, Marshall pushed past his awkwardness to take control of the conversation. “I know it’s probably a little weird for you, but in the grand scheme of things, I climbed into the bush, too. That practically makes it a trend.”

  Fox blinked. The cloudiness dissipated.

  “Besides.” Marshall lifted his chin. “There are worse places to hide. Dumpsters, for one. Ask me how I know. Rose bushes, for two. In comparison, this regular bush could be considered luxury accommodations.”

  Another blink. Then, like the sun creeping out from behind a cloud on a rainy day, the smallest smile quirked Fox’s lips.

  “So… here we are.” Marshall plucked a leaf from Fox’s hair and cast it aside. It was a futile gesture, seeing as how the bush had no shortage of leaves to shed on both of them, but doing something helped distract him from the nerve-racking yet simultaneously wonderful way being Fox’s object of focus made him feel. “Two guys making bush-sitting trendy. I’m totally fine with sitting here all day long and getting to know all the creepy-crawlies we’re undoubtedly bunking with, but if you’re getting tired of being fashion forward, let me know. Before this I was on my way to check out the new coffee shop. Not that I drink coffee, but… you know. I live with the delusion that one day I’ll find a place that serves a quality cup of tea. If you feel up to it, you could come with me.”

  There was another lapse in the conversation, but even as Fox’s smile faltered, his eyes didn’t lose their shine. Whatever he’d been through wasn’t over, but as far as Marshall could tell, it wasn’t on the verge of debilitating him again, either. That was good enough for now.

  “Why are you doing this?” Fox asked when the silence grew too thick.

  “Doing what?”

  “Helping me.”

  “Oh.” Marshall smiled, and while it was small, he hoped Fox knew it was true. “Well, I may not know what’s going on in your life right now, but I do know one thing—no one should have to go through what you’re going through alone.”

  5

  Marshall

  Whatever kind soul had taken it upon themselves to open a trendy coffee shop in the middle of nowhere southern Illinois deserved a medal. Bean There was a nod to the small coffee shops and tea houses Marshall had loved while living on the coast, and the second he stepped inside, he felt at home. From its chalkboard menu with its quirky doodles and tongue-in-cheek selections to the tall chairs and taller tables that populated the sunny floorspace, it was a taste of sleek and efficient modernism in a town staunchly rooted in tradition.

  Marshall was enamored.

  His love only grew when he noticed the abundance of silver jars lining the shelves beneath the chalkboards, each labeled with a white sticker inscribed with the same meticulous handwriting: Sakura Cherry Blossom Green; Black Dragon Pearl; South African Rooibos.

  He’d discovered the holy grail.

  Bean There served and sold loose tea.

  Marshall’s excitement simmered into understated anticipation when he turned his head to check on his impromptu coffee shop date. Fox had come in behind him, but he lingered to the side of the doorway, his facial features tight and his posture rigid. When he noticed Marshall looking, he lifted his head in what appeared to be attempted confidence, but Marshall saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed lingering emotion.

  Tea could wait. There were things more important to tend to.

  “Hey.” Marshall sidled up beside Fox, his hands in his pockets. He kept his gaze on the menu. “You have any idea what you might want?”

  A beat passed. Marshall was about to glance at Fox when he responded. “Not yet.”

  “No big. I’m not in a rush. Before this, I was literally moving furniture around my house to pass the time.” Marshall’s lips quirked with the hint of an encroaching laugh. “Besides, I’m not too sure what I want, either. You’ll probably end up waiting on me.”

  Fox made no comment, but his body language changed. The tension in his shoulders eased, and while it was hard to tell from the corner of his eye, Marshall thought he witnessed the beginnings of a smile. Not wanting to chase it away, he scanned the labels on the jars of tea and let Fox process his emotions on his own. It wasn’t Marshall’s place to ask what had happened, but whatever it was had twisted Fox up in knots. If he was ever going to come undone, he needed time to untangle himself.

  After a long minute spent browsing and a curious look or two from the barista, Fox spoke. “I’m ready. You want to go first?”

  Marshall shrugged. “I’m paying for both of us, so it doesn’t matter to me.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Well, I guess we’ll have to see whose card makes it through the machine first.” Marshall stepped forward, leaving Fox to follow. At the counter, the barista took their order and made their drinks—a Silver Yin Zhen Pearls tea for Marshall and an Americano for Fox. While she worked, she stole little glances over her shoulder at them, like it had never occurred to her that anyone could want a little caffeine on a Sunday afternoon.

  When their order was ready, the barista set their drinks on the counter and gave Marshall a blatant once-over. With a pensive hum, she cocked her head and pushed her brightly painted lips to the side. “You’re Marshall Lloyd, aren’t you?”

  “Um, yep.”

  She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “The tech billionaire?”

  “I prefer ‘destroyer of worlds,’ but I guess you’re not technically incorrect.”

  With an indignant huff, she swept a lock of hair behind her ear and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “It was supposed to be a joke,” Marshall concluded lamely.

  “You’re weird.” The barista took a step back and glanced at Fox, then back at Marshall. “What are you doing back in Bulrush, anyway? You’ve got swimming pools filled with dollar bills back in California, right? That’s what everyone’s been saying.”

  “Oh, that’s just a rumor.” Marshall palmed his cup of tea, which had conveniently been brewed to go. Heat seeped through the protective sleeve and into his skin. “People hear I installed a pool and they get all these outrageous notions in their head. I’d never fill something so big with money.”

  There was a brief pause during which the barista eyed him suspiciously. “Okay.”

  “It was much more economical to fill it with rubber ducks.” Marshall switched the cup to his other hand and looked the barista in the eyes, keeping up his deadpan performance. “You get more bang for your bill.”

  The joke did not go over well. Not wanting to strike out for a third time, Marshall apologized by way of a ten-dollar tip, then directed Fox away from the counter.

  “Rubber ducks?” Fox asked, half laughing as they headed for the door.

  “I thought it was funny. Like a reverse Duck Tales. If ducks can dive into gold coins, then I can dive into ducks.” Marshall held the door, letting Fox out first. The good news was that as badly as his humor had struck out with the barista, it seemed to have taken Fox’s mind off whatever had caused him to shut down. The bad news was that if Marshall knew Bulrush half as well as he thought he did, by lunchtime tomorrow everyone and their mother would think he was actually in possession of a swimming pool full of rubber ducks. “Do you want to go back to bush sitting?”

  “No.” Fox nodded toward the street where a silver Chevrolet Silverado was parked. “I’d rather sit in there.”

  “Oh.” Like a balloon that had drifted into a field of cacti, Marshall’s daydream met with a violent fate. Fox, who’d been popular and athletic in high school, wasn’t his friend. The fact that Marshall had found him in a bush and helped him through a rough time didn’t mean that they had any more in common than they had ten years ago. While Marshall had extended the offer, Fox wasn’t obligated to spend the afternoon getting buzzed on caffeine, and he certainly didn’t have to sit with Marshall while Marshall rambled about nothing and tried not to make himself out to be too big of a fool. Apart from their brief encounter in the bush, there was nothing between them. The silly crush Marshall had harbored in high school wasn’t reciprocated, and it would never be. Theirs would be the shortest romance of all.

  Boy meets boy (for a second time, but this time in a bush).

  One of them is gay.

  The other isn’t.

  The end.

  Simple.

  But by the way Marshall’s heart deflated like the sad balloon who’d gone all-in on a hug with a prickly pear, that ending left much to be desired. If his dick had anything to say about it, the middle could use some work, too.

  “Oh?” Fox echoed, snapping Marshall out of his personal pity party.

  “I meant… n-oh.” Beca
use telling Fox he couldn’t go sit in his car was so much better than casually observing it was parked nearby. If Marshall had been in a conference call rather than a real-life conversation, he would have clawed his face in frustration over the hole he was digging himself into. Fox was looking at him like he was insane, which at this point probably wasn’t all that far off from the truth. “And by that I mean, ‘N-oh problem, you can definitely go enjoy your coffee in the comfort of your own car.’ It was, um, it was nice bush sitting with… you.”

  Fox furrowed his brow. “I thought you said you didn’t have anywhere to be.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then where are you going?”

  The cactus needles skewering Marshall’s heart withdrew, and hope pumped a tentative gust or two into its deflated corpse. “I don’t know.”

  “Then come sit with me.” Fox lowered his gaze so it was set on the lid of his coffee, but try as he might to hide what he felt, Marshall didn’t miss the inkling of vulnerability in his voice. “I don’t want to be alone just yet.”

  In the comfort of Fox’s truck, Marshall removed the plastic lid covering his tea and breathed in the steam rising off the top. It carried delicate notes he appreciated—a hint of sweetness, an undercurrent of jasmine, and the tiniest bit of kick. The aroma grounded him much in the same way lavender did, distracting him from the very troubled, very handsome man sitting not more than a foot to his left.

  The man Marshall had been crushing on since high school, and the one who’d just invited him into his private space.

  No big.

  As it turned out, that man had been watching him enjoy his tea. Fox furrowed his brow and fixed Marshall with a quizzical look. “Uh, did you just… huff that?”

  “No.”

  “I’m pretty sure you did.”

  Marshall gestured at his cup. “Tea is not a thing that can be ‘huffed.’ I was simply appreciating it.”

  “Right.” Fox plopped back in his seat, knocked back a good portion of his coffee, then let out a withering sigh that was so deep, it’d likely been rooted in his toes. “So what are you appreciating?”

  “Silver Yin Zhen Pearls tea.”

  “In English?”

  Marshall chuckled. “It’s, um, a white tea. White teas are sometimes a little flavorless, but this one has an earthy taste with some residual sweetness. Some say it tastes like hay.”

  Fox turned his head slowly and fixed Marshall with a flat look. “You bought a tea… that tastes like hay?”

  “It’s good. I promise. And it’s good for you.”

  Fox twisted the cardboard sleeve around his cup listlessly. He didn’t reply.

  “I take it you’re not much of a tea guy?”

  “No.” Fox took another few mindful breaths, then looked Marshall over again. The blues of his eyes washed over Marshall’s thighs, then followed the length of his body to his shoulders. By the time they had risen to Marshall’s face, Marshall was convinced his cheeks were on fire. The intensity of Fox’s gaze was like hot pavement on bare feet, innocuous at first glance, but superheated to those foolish enough to wander across it unprotected. It made Marshall want to squirm. “At least tell me you add milk.”

  “Are you a heathen?”

  “No. I just can’t imagine how else I could bring myself to drink hay.” Fox lifted a brow, then turned his head and looked out the windshield. Without his eyes boring holes straight into Marshall’s soul, the heat was off, and he was able to compose himself. Maybe it would’ve been for the best if they’d gone back to bush sitting—at least there the threat of spider attacks had distracted Marshall enough to keep him safe from spontaneous combustion.

  There was silence after that. It wasn’t awkward, but it was thick, and it turned the atmosphere in the truck from lighthearted to serious. Fox was the one to end it, both hands clutched around his cup of coffee and his focus set on a nebulous point in the distance. “I didn’t know you were back.”

  “I got in Friday.” Marshall worried his bottom lip with his teeth and traced the edge of his cup’s sleeve with his thumb. While he spoke, he followed the zigzag pattern between the layers of cardboard with his eyes. “I spent the last two days cleaning up what little mess was left over from the renovations at my new place and arranging furniture an interior designer spent hours making just right. My mom brought over some groceries the day I arrived, so I haven’t been out much. This is the first time I’ve made it into town.”

  “I didn’t think you’d ever come back.”

  “Me neither, to be honest.” Marshall inclined his head slowly until it hit the headrest. Once there was nowhere else for it to go, he fixated on the safety warning adhered to Fox’s sun visor. “When I left after high school, I told myself that I’d never come back for anything, not even to visit my mom. But… things change, I guess. People change.” Marshall swallowed the lump rising in his throat and counted down from three, grounding himself in the moment. Memories were destructive, but they couldn’t hurt him. All he needed was the strength to acknowledge them and let them go. “It’s messed up how you can spend a decade of your life growing into the best version of yourself, yet still feel like you’re the unpopular, unwanted loser you used to be. I don’t know if I’ll ever forget how it feels.” Marshall closed his eyes and took Fox’s example—he breathed in deeply, drawing it to the depths of his lungs, then released it to a mentally measured count. “But that’s why I’m back here. Why I needed to come back. I can wake up every day and take comfort in knowing that I’m Marshall Lloyd, the kid who beat the odds and achieved greatness despite adversity, but I don’t know if that’ll ever make me feel whole. It’s like there’s this… this gap. It’s not front and center, but it’s still there, covered in cobwebs and shrouded in darkness, waiting for me to trip up. And sometimes I do.” It wasn’t like Fox had a reason to care, but now that Marshall had started, he couldn’t stop. In an attempt to keep his voice from wobbling, he read the safety warning on the visor again and again.

  EVEN WITH ADVANCED AIRBAGS

  Children can be killed or seriously injured

  “So I’m here to try to close that hole.” Marshall’s nail caught on the edge of the cardboard sleeve.

  The back seat is the safest place for children

  Never put a rear-facing child seat in the front

  “I don’t think that it will ever really go away, but I do think that by confronting it, I can build a support system around it that will keep me from falling in.”

  Always use a seat belt and child restraints

  See owner’s manual for more information about airbags

  “At least, that’s the plan.” Marshall cleared his throat and tore his gaze away from the warning. “Which is more than you ever wanted to know, I’m sure. I just… I don’t know. I put my life on hold to come back here and work on myself, so I figured that here, with you, would be a good place to start.”

  Marshall didn’t look at Fox. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he sipped his tea and thought about how big a spectacle he was making of himself. Fox was the one who needed help right now—it wouldn’t have killed him to check his baggage at the door for long enough to make sure he was okay.

  “Sorry,” Marshall muttered. “I guess I needed to get that off my chest. Forget about it. Let’s—”

  “Don’t apologize.” The sharpness of Fox’s voice was cut by the barest trace of vulnerability, like a steel beam engraved with the faintest floral pattern. Marshall, not sure how to reply, stayed silent. Fox didn’t. “People were shitty to you. I was shitty to you. That’s on them. All on them. If what you feel makes them uncomfortable, fuck them. You deserve to be heard.”

  It felt like there was something deeper going on, but what it was, Marshall didn’t know. He glanced at Fox—studied the stern line of his lips and the outrage in his eyes—and wondered what else had changed since high school. Who else had changed.

  “You weren’t shitty to me,” Marshall finally managed, albeit in a small voice. “You were the only one who cared enough to help me.”

  “I could have done more. I could have helped you sooner.”

  “But you helped.” Marshall’s gaze dropped into the depths of his tea. “That’s enough for me.” Another few pumps of air inflated his cactus-snuggling heart, and after a pause, he added, “Of all the people in Bulrush I could have found in that bush, I’m glad it was you.”