We don’t get quite the same treatment leaving the King residence as we did entering. Rather than the all-smiles greeting committee, we get a couple of tight-lipped grimaces, quick pats on the back, and hope to see you soons that sound less than genuine.
Mr. King has daggers in his eyes, and I can’t wait to be outside of range.
We make it through the cold and into Jason’s car, and Jason has to let the car run for a minute in park, blasting heat on the window shield to clear the crystals.
The second we’re in, Donovan lets out a whoop from the back. “Hands down, the strangest dinner party I’ve ever been to,” he says.
Jason lets out a bit of a laugh. “Yeah, it was…a lot.”
The window clears enough, so he puts the car into gear and pulls us out of the parking lot. I’m not sad to watch the King mansion vanish in the distance. Jason has a mile-long stare, though, as he watches the road ahead.
“How’re you feeling about it?” I ask and slip my hand over his leg.
“Which part?” he asks.
I shrug. “Seeing your ex. Coming out to your family. All of it, I guess.”
The dim light from the headlights casts intense shadows over his face, and I can see the muscles in his jaw tighten as he picks his words carefully. “Lighter,” he finally says. “Scared. But in a good way.”
“Scared…about what?” I press. “Are you worried about what your parents will think?”
This, too, takes him a second to consider. “No,” he says and sounds surprised by his own response. “Honestly? I don’t give a rat’s ass what they think.”
“So what are you nervous about?”
He rubs his hands over the steering wheel once. “That was the first time I’ve ever said it out loud to anyone. Even myself. Honestly…I’m not even sure I know what it means to be bisexual.”
“It means you’re greedy,” Donovan says from the back.
I roll my eyes and give Jason’s thigh a squeeze. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. You’re the same person you were two hours ago. You’re just…a more honest version of the guy you were before.”
“Honest,” Jason says, and the word seems to carry some weight the way he says it. “Yeah. I like that.”
Guilt, the ever-present crab on my shoulder, gives me a pinch. I rub the back of my neck to ward the feeling away.
“What do you want to do now?” Donovan asks.
Jason seems to think about it; then, suddenly, he veers. We come to a quick stop at the side of the road, where he parks the car. “I want to go for a swim,” he says, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Then he unbuckles and gets out of the car.
Donovan and I exchange a glance. “Are we…supposed to follow him?” Donovan asks.
“I am.” I unbuckle my seat belt, and the car complains with small beeps as I get out of the passenger side.
We’re right on the Bayside. I take my shoes off and step off the edge of the road and onto the sand. I have to tread through dune grass, its tendrils capped in ice, until I get to the beach.
Jason is already at the edge of the water. He kicks off his loafers and, without hesitating, dives into the surf. Nice suit and all. When he resurfaces, he lets out a shout. But he’s grinning.
Something inside me unlocks. He is brave, and bold, and fucking insane, and I want to be insane with him.
Donovan steps in beside me. “Truth or dare?” he asks.
Donovan and I glance at each other, and the look in his eyes is all I need to know that we’ve both come to the same decision.
“Dare,” we both say simultaneously.
We ditch our shoes. Donovan drops his blazer, and I lose my shawl as we run at top speed into the ocean. The second the water hits my legs, it feels like shards of ice against my skin. It sucks the breath completely out of my lungs, and I cry out—a sharp, shrill noise.
“It’s better once you’re in!” Jason calls out, engulfed to his chest. “I promise!”
I trust him. I force myself through the initial blast of pain and shock and—
I take the leap. I jump into the swells until I’m up to my shoulders in it.
And Jason is right. Once you’re in? It’s not so bad.
It’s freeing. My clothes cling to me uncomfortably, but I feel invincible.
Donovan is in the water with us. He’s catching his breath, but his eyes are alive.
I swim out to Jason. He grins at me. “You good, Trouble?” he asks.
“Never been better,” I tell him, and I mean it.
I don’t know how long we stay in the water. But I feel amazing while I’m in it. We’re wild animals. We’re unbound, like points of light in the sky. We’re free.
It only hurts when we get out, and the chill in the air eats through my soaked dress. The three of us grab the clothes we’ve left scattered across the shore. We dash to the car and jump in—wet and sandy, shivering and laughing. Immediately, Jason blasts the heat, and I stretch my fingers over the vent. My hands are bright red, fingers numb.
“H-h-holy shit,” I say between chattering teeth. “That was insane.”
Donovan reaches between the seat dividers and clasps Jason heartily on the shoulder. “Some endurance training, Phelps. Was that some special ops Doctors Without Borders training they put you through?”
At that, Jason winces slightly. His hair is wild at his forehead, his wet shirt plastered to his chest, nipples peaked with the cold. “So…in the theme of honesty,” he says. “I never joined.”
Donovan gawks. “Hold on—do I have frostbite in my ears?”
Jason leans back in his seat, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. I can see the silhouette of him—the sharpness of his chin, the bob in his pronounced Adam’s apple as he speaks.
He starts: “The Doctors Without Borders bit…I made it up for the Dr. Mazie show. I wish I had joined. But the truth is, they asked me what I’d been doing and I just panicked. I made up a story I made up so I wouldn’t have to tell anyone where I really was.”
“Where did you go?” I ask.
“After I finalized the divorce with Nadine, I felt…like a failure. I rented a hotel room in Jersey and didn’t contact anyone. For weeks. I drank myself stupid, slept, and watched Die Hard like…twenty times.”
He can’t look at either of us. He exhales a deep sigh. “I just didn’t want to feel anything. My heart hurt. I was so embarrassed. I couldn’t face my family. I couldn’t face anyone. I’ve literally never failed at anything. Second place is as good as last place in my family’s book. Divorce is fucking unheard of among the Kings. I didn’t want to be a loser.”
For a second, neither Donovan nor I say anything; we just let the hum of the car heater fill the empty space. Jason looks so vulnerable right now—cracked open under the moonlight—and my chest aches for him.
Finally, Donovan returns his hand to Jason’s shoulder and gives the other man a squeeze. “Jason,” he says seriously. “I’ve got something to say…and I want you to really hear me, okay?”
Jason nods. “Okay…”
“As someone who has spent his entire lifetime as a loser…it’s about time you joined us.”
There it is. That hopeful grin slowly returns to Jason’s face. “Yeah? I’m part of the losers’ club?”
“You’re damn right,” I concur. “Trust me. It’s way more fun here.”
