My finger flicked back and forth testing the frayed edges of my old wicker chair as I inhaled soothing cigarette smoke. The small sticks on the arm of the chair stuck out like tiny pointy daggers. They needed to be mended before someone cut themselves.

I was lost in thought with the contentment of the cigarette, contemplating whether to buy a new set of patio furniture, or mend the old. So lost in thought that I didn’t see the car pull into my driveway. I took another drag of my cigarette while I weighed the options of new porch decor when the sound of a car door slamming shut pulled me from my thoughts.

Startled, I looked up to see Alan bearing down on me like a fearsome angel. I stubbed out my cigarette and walked to edge of my porch. It had been over a month since I had seen him. I was avoiding the hell out of him, to say the least. He looked worried. Stressed. Had something happened to Simon? No, Dad would have called me.

“Is something wrong?” I looked down at him from the porch, careful not to get too close. I was scared all my feelings would erupt at once if I stepped a foot closer.

“No…” His eyes shifted from one side to the other, telling a different story. “Why are you avoiding me?” His words jumped down my throat, completely catching me off guard.

“I’m not.” As I said the words I felt my stomach curl. I was lying. I had been avoiding him, but it was for a good reason.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Alan stepped towards me with his arms crossed.

The emotions I had been avoiding for the past month and half boiled to the surface. My heart wrenched with grief that I couldn’t be with him, but I was frustrated and angry he didn’t understand why. Could he not see I was bad for him? It stung even worse when he called me a liar.

I knew I was lying, I had been lying to myself for a month and a half. Lying about my feelings for Alan and lying that I didn’t want to see him. But I wasn’t lying for no good reason. I was lying about my feelings because I couldn’t bear the reality of hurting him again.

I stepped backward as he kept approaching. “What do you want me to say? That I screwed up? I fucking screwed up. You don’t need someone like me.” My head felt hot and I couldn’t help raising my voice.

“What kind of person do I need, then? Someone like Mark?” Alan shot back.

My jaw clenched when I heard Alan say his name. Mark. That scumbag didn’t even deserved to be mentioned. “Fuck no. Why would you think something like that? You need someone who puts your and Simon’s needs first. That fuckwad views you as property. You need someone who cherishes you. Someone you don’t have to be afraid of.”

I saw red at the mention of Mark’s name, but Alan’s continued approach wiped away the red haze, and my fists unclenched. I was torn between being angry about everything—my past, Alan’s past, the crap that had thrown us together, making us want something we couldn’t have—and wanting to let go and give into my feelings.

“So, someone like you?”

I took a step back, my eyes searching his. “What?”

He took another step forward, and I stepped away, but my back bumped into my front door.

“Someone like you. You rescued us. Twice. Other than that night where you went up against Mark, I’ve never been scared of you. I see how you take care of your family. How you love them. For a moment, I thought I saw a glimpse of that between us too. Why did you run away?”

If I reached out, I would touch him, and I wanted to. But my fear was stronger than my desire, and I pressed against the door, my hand searching blindly for the handle, but too focused on the distance closing between our bodies.

“I had to. You can’t trust me, Alan. You said it yourself, you were scared of me the night I went up against Mark. You don’t need that kind of man—you don’t need me.”

“You ran away because you thought you were doing what’s best for Simon and me?” He was practically touching me now as he encroached on my space, pushing my boundaries.

“Because it is what’s best for you. Don’t you understand that?”

“What makes you think it’s for the best, Jeremy?” His eyes had shifted from worry to anger.

“Because it just is!” I was angry at Alan for questioning me, frustrated that he couldn’t understand why I was bad for him.

“I don’t believe that!” Alan shouted at me suddenly. His tiny body shook as he yelled. “I know you’re scared, but so am I. You can’t put your demons on me, Jeremy.”

I looked away. “You don’t know my demons, and you shouldn’t ever have to.”

He stood his ground, inches from my face though I couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I’m trying to understand, Jeremy, so let me understand.” His voice broke, and my heart with it.

There wasn’t enough room between us to breathe, or to think, it was too much pressure keeping up with the lie I had been telling myself: I don’t want him.

I did want him, and with him standing inches from my face, I couldn’t maintain the lie any longer. “Fine, Alan! Fine, you’re right. I want you. Okay, is that what you want to hear? You’re everything that is good and bright and precious in this world, but if you’re smart, you’ll get out of here. You’ll run far away. As soon as you get the chance you should get as far—”

He lifted his heels high off the ground to kiss me, or to shut me up, one of the two. But either way, it worked. It shut me up and I kissed him back. His soft lips made me forget why I couldn’t be with him and why I wanted him to run away, far away from me.

He stepped back, looking deep into my eyes, a smile flitting across his lips. “Am I going to have to do all the chasing in this relationship?”