Thursday morning, I make the drive out to Shane's ranch.

It's a drive I've taken hundreds of times. I know the route by heart now, and I don't even have to think about the few turns and the long stretch of county road it takes to get out there. Usually. Today it feels different.

It's not just the fact that I should be at work right now. It's also that I'm here alone, none of the usual kids crowding into my cab for their chance to experience something they can't get anywhere else.

I used to visit Shane on my own all the time, but right now it feels wrong on a visceral level. So much so that my stomach is leaping with every pothole in the dirt road leading to the ranch. That's pretty much the constant state I've been in ever since Monday night.

I don't blame David. I can't. But that doesn't make it hurt any less. Worse than that, I have no idea if this is a permanent thing, or if it's just until he calms down—if that's even a possibility after his daughter took a car she wasn't registered or insured to drive and crashed it while trying to play hooky with her girlfriend.

Maybe a permanent breakup would be best. Dating a parent was never a good idea, and David's the kind of guy I could easily lose my heart to. If that happened, I'm not sure I could handle another rejection when things inevitably get too stressful; when he pushes me away again because he feels like he has to deal with Riley alone.

Those are the thoughts that careen through my mind as I drive the familiar winding roads, and they're still in there when I pull up to the farmhouse Shane now shares with my brother. A distant braying tears me away from them, and I can at least manage a smile for Otto.

He trundles in from a field, his tail flicking behind him. I can tell he didn't expect me—on the weekends he usually stays near the house—but he still pushes his fuzzy head against my hand, forcing me to scratch behind his big ears.

"Looks like you'll be seeing a lot more of me," I tell him.

He makes an excited sort of wheezing noise in the back of his throat like he can actually understand me.

"At least somebody's excited," I hear Shane say, his voice teasing. The screen door closes behind him, and I look up to see him walking toward me, no Travis in sight. "I have to actually work with him."

He's messing with me, but right now Otto really is the only one who’s excited. I was looking forward to spending my weekends and winter break getting my hands dirty, helping turn the ranch into something presentable so we could make the most of the donor money that'll hit my bank account soon.

But I'd planned to spend that time with David and Riley. We were going to work on it together. With assists from Shane and Travis, of course, but making improvements for the program was going to be our thing.

"Good to see you too, asshole," I say, finally disentangling myself from Otto's demanding presence to give Shane a hug. "Where's my brother hiding?"

"He's helping Coach Harding today," he says, pulling back from me. The way his brow knits is a clear warning of what's coming. "He… told me about what happened. Your suspension and everything. I wasn't sure if you wanted me to drop by."

I tense a little, waiting for the offer. But Shane knows me too well to make it. As close as we are, as much as he's helped me through some of the hardest times of my life, he knows I have to process these things on my own first.

"Nah, there's nothing you or anybody else can do about it," I say, starting toward the house. "It happened. I just have to ride it out."

Shane's silence tells me he doesn't buy that in the slightest, but after a moment, I hear the loose gravel crunch underneath his boots as he follows me.

I get my comeuppance as I reach for the screen door.

"So… when were you going to tell me about David?"

I close my eyes, pressing in on the button to pull the door open. The screen keeps some of the cold November air away from me, and I can already start to feel Shane's heater through the gap under the actual door.

"When there was something to tell. It just turned into… whatever it was. Not like we were planning on scheduling a double wedding."

I hold the door open for Shane and invite myself into his kitchen, enjoying the blast of warm air as I wander under a vent. The smell of coffee beans greets me, and I look over at the coffeemaker. Still half a pot left, and the light's on. He left it running for me.

"It was something the first time you two showed up at the ranch," he says skeptically. Then, after a pause, "Wait. ‘Was'?"

I grab a clean coffee mug from the dishwasher and pour myself some of Shane's inhumanly strong coffee, along with some milk to cut the bitterness.

"It's a long story."

"The horses are already out and grazing. The only other thing I've got on the docket today is filling out some forms. I've got plenty of time for long stories."

I hear something scrape across the floor and when I look over, he's pulled out a chair for me at that damn kitchen table. Whether it's my place or his, it's become a ritual for us. All of our problems have been sorted out while sitting around a kitchen table.

Knowing I'm not likely to get out of this without at least saying something, I plop a spoonful of sugar into my coffee, stir it around, then take my seat at the Tell-All Table.

And then I start talking. I tell Shane that I've been attracted to David from the very start—something he says was obvious to anyone with eyes. I talk about that night at my place, Riley and Julie's date, that first kiss, and the whirlwind of events that led to David and I starting something resembling a relationship.

I steel myself, taking a sip of the still very hot, very strong coffee before I talk about the Petersons, my suspension, the accident, and the resulting fallout.

As I talk, I can feel a weight lifting off me. Not all of it, but enough that I finally feel like I can breathe again, instead of just living my life crushed underneath everything that's happened.

Shane makes a few quips here and there, but he stays silent as things start to go downhill in my retelling. All I have to go on are his expressions which—while not nearly as readable as Trav's—are easy enough to decipher.

"Are the kids okay?"

"I have no idea," I admit, frowning down at my mug. "It looked like Riley just had a simple fracture. Julie wasn't hurt in the accident, but her parents were… well, you know what her parents are like."

Shane just nods, and we lapse into silence long enough for me to dwell on how little I know. Have Julie's parents finally kicked her out? If they did, will David honor what he told me? Will he actually take her in? I have to find out somehow, but there's no way I can ask David.

"Jake…" Shane lets out a heavy sigh, and I lift my gaze to him. "I say this with love, but you're an idiot."

I just blink at him, my lips quirking into what feels like a smirk of self-defense. "Wow. Tell me how you really feel, man."

"I've known you for a long-ass time, and I'm intimately familiar with that thing you do."

"That thing I do," I repeat, taking another swig of coffee like it's ninety-proof bourbon.

"That thing where you push people away when they're trying to help you," he says, looking me dead in the eyes.

I glare back. "I'm not the one doing it this time, jackass. David is."

Shane makes an amused sound that isn’t quite a laugh, his lips curving into a rueful smirk. "Oh, I know. You're apparently perfect for each other. You both pull the same shit: Pushing away the people who love you when you need them most."

I'm just going to skip right past the L-bomb Shane's dropped and go straight to scowling about his very incorrect assessment of who I am and what I need. We may have known each other since college, but he apparently hasn't picked up anything since then.

"I know what you're about to say, but I have proof: Junior year of college, when Andy Clark gave you that stupid ultimatum, forcing you to sleep with him before you were ready."

A shock of pain lances through me at what had been just a distant memory. Andy was the first boy I ever dated—the first time I came out as bisexual. He made my first time with a guy absolutely awful, and blamed me for the whole thing.

"You kept that quiet for weeks, and it tore you apart. You failed two midterms, Jake. And things didn't start to get any better for you until you finally talked to me."

"That was one time ten years ago," I shoot back, my fingers curling around the coffee cup.

"Your dad's funeral," he says in a level voice, knocking the wind out of me. "Your move to Glen Springs. Reconciling with Travis. I can keep going, if you want."

He doesn't have to. Each of his arrows find their target, those memories flooding back, sharp and not nearly as distant as I thought. The last one hits me hardest, though. That was one of the few times I was forced to admit upfront that I had no idea what I was doing. I asked for Shane's help, and while my relationship with my brother isn't perfect, at least I have a brother now.

"Everybody needs help, J. Everybody gets in over their heads sometimes, and it doesn't make you weak or lazy or whatever else your dad tried to tell you."

I wouldn't take this tough love approach from anyone else. But Shane's right. He knows me better than anyone in the world, and he's been there for all of this.

"You could maybe get around to the point before the coffee gets cold," I mutter, though there's no bite to my words. I've been sufficiently reprimanded. "We have a lot of shit to do today that doesn't involve you DJing Jake's Greatest Fails."

Shane scoffs, sitting back in his chair to look at me. "You let David go too easily. Give him some space, then go back over there. He needs somebody right now, whether he realizes it or not."

My heart wants to believe that. It wants to believe I can just drive over to David's place now and tell him I'm not letting go of what we could have without a fight.

But I already know how that would go. David would get defensive. He'd be nice about it, but a heart that's shattered nicely still ends up in a million irreparable pieces.

"I can't, Shane," I admit softly.

"Yes, you can. You just have to—"

"No, I can't," I repeat, lifting my gaze to his once more. "I can't stand there and have him tell me to my face—for the second time—that I'm not worth the trouble."

My heart aches as I admit the truth to myself. This has been a pattern in my life for so long that I didn't think it would hurt so much anymore.

But David wasn't just a way to pass the time or ease a few nagging physical desires. David was… everything I could've ever wanted in a partner.

But I guess I'm not that for him.

"Jake, you—"

"No," I say, my voice cutting through his words like ice. "We're not going to talk through this, Shane. Not this time."

He looks at me across the table, searching my eyes for some way out of this. But there isn't one. The Tell-All Table isn't a miracle cure.

Not for me. Not for this.

"Okay," he says, letting out a soft breath. "Okay. Let's talk about the ranch."