I Will Always Love You

VERONICA

~“I hope life treats you kind,”~

~And I hope you have all you’ve dreamed of,~

~And I’m wishing you joy and happiness,~

~But above all things I wish you love…”~

~– Whitney Houston~

***

The morning after the drama at Bernard’s, I was in desperate need of my friends.

Sadly, not everyone was available.

It was Sunday, so Laura was off visiting her aunt, Nick and Amy were having their usual Romantic Sunday—yeah, I know, it’s nauseating.

Kyle was getting ready for a live-stream on his blog, where he’d strum his guitar, flash his “rockstar” grin, and probably score a few phone numbers complete with kiss emojis.

Santana was off camping with her family, including her brother Salvador, who was home from the army for the weekend.

I was almost out of options when I dialed Warren’s number, but to my surprise, he was free.

In a way, it was better than seeing anyone else; I needed someone to give me a reality check, and who better than a guy who’s allergic to commitment?

We decided to meet at a pub in midtown called The Drunken Irish’s Beer Place.

I was dressed casually but warmly—it was almost December and the cold was biting. I wore comfy jeans, a hoodie, a scarf, and boots.

Warren was also dressed for the weather, with a beanie covering his messy tawny hair and a coat that swallowed his lean frame.

“Want to sit at the bar?” he asked as we walked in, his honey-brown eyes scanning the room.

“Anywhere we can talk without being interrupted works for me,” I replied, and so we settled at the bar, as he suggested.

The bartender, a muscular, good-looking guy in his late twenties, flashed us a grin as we took our seats.

“What can I get you?” he asked, his voice surprisingly melodic and low, like a rock-band frontman.

Warren ordered a beer.

I said, “Boozed-up smoothie, please.”

The bartender raised an eyebrow at me as he started pouring Warren’s beer.

“A smoothie?” he asked, his deep voice filled with amusement. “Out of everything you could order, you choose a smoothie?”

Despite myself, I grinned and shrugged. “I like smoothies and I like booze. They go well together.”

Warren snorted.

“Only someone as weird as you would think that,” he said.

“That’s not necessarily true,” the bartender chimed in, surprising me. “I just didn’t expect you to be into alcoholic smoothies.”

“What did you think I was into?” I asked, my grin growing.

“Hardcore whiskey,” he answered without missing a beat. “You look like the whiskey type.”

“You’re not wrong,” I admitted, slightly taken aback. I really did love whiskey. “Most bartenders assume that because I’m a woman, I’d obviously go for vodka or gin and tonic or something.”

The bartender rolled his eyes and flashed me a grin that transformed him from just good-looking to downright handsome. “Don’t let it get to you; most bartenders don’t know what they’re doing.”

He slid the beer across the counter to Warren and started on my smoothie.

“Okay, Mr. Humble,” I said, amused, “I think I believe you.”

He chuckled, and I had to admit, it was a sexy sound. Even my Jax-obsessed brain could agree with that.

“Good, then.”

A few seconds later, my smoothie was ready. He handed it to me and popped a little red umbrella in it.

“There you go,” he said, winking. “It’s on the house.”

I grinned back. “Thank you…”

“Frey,” he offered his name and extended his hand.

“Frey,” I finished my sentence and shook his hand. It was large and warm, rough from work, probably. “I’m–”

“Veronica,” he cut in, surprising both Warren and me. He let go of my hand and I cradled it as if I’d been burned.

“How do you know my name?” I asked, my eyes wide with surprise.

Frey chuckled.

“I have a knack for guessing people’s names. You looked like a Veronica. And you”—he glanced at Warren—“look like a Warren.”

“Damn,” Warren’s eyes widened with admiration, “you ~are~ good.”

Frey flashed us a grin and said, “Enjoy your drinks, you two. If you need anything, just give me a shout.”

“Sure,” I mumbled, still dazed by his uncanny ability. He gave us a mock salute and moved on to serve other customers.

A stunned silence stretched between Warren and me for a few moments before my friend said, “That’s the kind of bartender all other bartenders should learn from.”

“I agree, we should tip him well.”

“Definitely,” Warren nodded and turned to me. “So, what’s up? You sounded pretty desperate to see me.”

My mood plummeted as the events of the previous night flooded back.

“I need your honest advice,” I said after a pause.

“Okay,” he said, looking both open and confused.

Taking a deep breath, I ventured into a topic none of our other friends would dare touch.

“Why are you so scared of relationships?” I asked bravely.

His reaction was immediate; he tensed up, sweat beaded on his forehead, his eyes bulged.

He turned to me, looking shocked, and opened his mouth as if to say something, but then he slumped back in his seat and took a long swig of his beer.

After a few silent minutes, he finally found his voice.

“Why are you curious?” he asked, his gaze filled with a hint of suspicion.

I couldn’t fault him for it. We had a few unspoken rules in our group. One of them was to never dig into someone’s personal issues unless they willingly shared.

We all knew Warren had a hard time with relationships, intimacy, and commitment, but none of us knew why, though we had our theories.

My theory was that he’d been hurt by someone. Laura thought maybe he’d seen his parents hurt each other and it had left a mark.

Now, I was breaking this silent agreement for my own selfish reasons. I could be such a jerk sometimes.

“I’m sorry, Warren,” I apologized, looking away. “I just… I’m in a really bad place.”

He took a deep breath.

“Alright,” he said slowly, “why don’t you tell me about it?”

Fair was fair. If I wanted to know about him, I had to share about me. So, I told him about my situation with Jax.

He listened carefully, and when I was done, he had a strange look on his face.

“What?” I asked, feeling a bit embarrassed. I’d just bared my soul to him, and he was giving me a weird look.

“Are you blind?” he asked, straightforward.

I frowned. “No.”

“But you are,” he said, “your answer is right in front of you, shouting at you. You’re wondering why you’re feeling all these things for Jax, and what Jax wants from you, and it’s all so clear.”

“Well, why don’t you enlighten me?” I snapped, my patience wearing thin.

He shrugged and said casually, as if it wasn’t a big deal, “You’re falling for him, and he wants you to.”

Surprised, I almost choked on the smoothie I’d just sipped. “What the hell?”

He narrowed his eyes.

“The whole intensity between you two? The fact that when you’re with other men you think about him? It wouldn’t be happening if you didn’t have feelings for him, and vice versa.”

“He doesn’t love me!” I argued.

“I didn’t say that,” Warren looked at me closely and sighed. “I don’t think you’re ready to hear the rest of it. Look at how you’re reacting.”

I paused. He was right.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that.”

“It’s okay,” he said, and for some reason, his gaze dropped and he looked sad. “I understand.”

Looking at his face, I decided it was time for him to share too. “So, what about you?”

He sighed heavily, as if he’d been expecting this.

“I–”

“Warren?” A voice interrupted him.

We both turned to see a good-looking guy about our age standing there, his brown hair tousled and his green eyes, red and teary, were focused on Warren.

Warren seemed to know the guy, because he recoiled, trying to blend into the bar, and held his beer glass as if it were a shield.

~Well, this is odd.~

“Why, Warren?” the guy accused, tears streaming down his face. “Why do you have to be such a jerk?!”

Warren looked like he wanted to disappear into his beer. “I… I…”

“You idiot!” The guy grabbed Warren’s shoulders and shook him, which made me want to protect my friend.

I was about to tell the guy to back off when he suddenly blurted out, “We were good together!”

Wait, ~what~?

Before I could voice my confusion, the guy leaned in and planted a passionate kiss on Warren’s lips.

“What. The. Hell?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

But that wasn’t even the most shocking part.

What really took my breath away was that Warren was melting into the other guy’s touch and returning his kiss, tears welling up in his eyes.

For someone who’d seen her gay uncle kissing his husband countless times, I shouldn’t have been so shocked at seeing two guys kissing.

But this was Warren, the guy who slept around with women and had commitment issues.

My friend, who’d shared his sexual adventures with me during our drunken nights and whom I’d seen kissing many, many girls.

Realizing what he was doing in public—in front of me—Warren broke the kiss and pushed the guy away.

“W-What are you doing?” he stammered, his face red and his eyes darting to me.

The guy’s eyes hardened with determination. “I’m winning you back. I love you, and I’m not ready to give up.”

And I was not ready to hear someone telling Warren “Commitment-Issues” Carmichael that he loved him.

But my player of a friend was looking at the other guy with something akin to awe as tears filled his eyes.

“You love me?” he asked, his voice choked with emotion.

In that moment, I realized something crucial about this whole situation; if this were a romance novel, this would be the climactic scene.

The scene when the main couple finally reconciles after a stupid breakup.

But this was Warren. And a freaking ~guy~. How could a secret love story have happened without any of us knowing? It felt unreal.

“Of course, I love you, dummy,” the stranger said affectionately, his face full of, well, love. “I can’t believe you ever thought I didn’t.”

“But you were kissing Daniel–” Warren began.

“And I already explained that to you, he tried to force himself on me and I pushed him away,” the guy said stubbornly. “You’re the one I want, Warren. Not Daniel, not Geoffrey, not anyone. Only you.”

It was a cheesy line but, to my surprise, it had a profound effect on Warren. My friend started crying again.

“I… I… love you too, Ransom.”

That’s when I snapped out of my shock and yelled, “Ransom?!”

Both Warren and Ransom jumped, as if they’d forgotten I was there, and turned to look at me.

Warren’s face, which had been filled with joy, turned to horror when he realized I was still there, listening to their conversation. But I was too shocked to care.

“You didn’t tell me you’re gay,” I said, my eyes wide with surprise, “and your so-called dorm roommate is actually your boyfriend?”

Ransom, who I now knew was the seemingly innocent but secretly wild guy who’d been Warren’s roommate for a year and a half, looked at me with suspicion.

“And who are you?” he asked, his tone cold. He clearly wasn’t thrilled about my presence. Talk about overprotective.

Warren jumped off his stool.

“Ransom, this is my friend, Veronica. Nix…” he looked pained when he turned back to me.

“I can fill in the blanks,” I said, feeling hurt by his secrecy. “Nix, this is my boyfriend, Ransom. Yes, I’m gay and I didn’t tell you because I don’t trust my friends.”

“And yes, I don’t ~really~ hate monogamy, nor do I have commitment issues. I just lied to you.” I crossed my arms and glared at Warren, anger bubbling up inside me.

“Nix–” Warren started to say, but Ransom cut him off.

“Don’t talk to him like that!” he snapped at me, wrapping a protective arm around Warren. “It’s not Warren’s fault he’s not ready to come out to you!”

“Calm down,” I said, scowling, and turned to Warren. “Why did you hide it?”

He bit his lip and looked down. Ransom shot me a hateful look.

Warren took a deep breath, put a calming hand on Ransom’s, and turned to look at me again.

“I was scared,” he admitted quietly, his cheeks turning red. “My family knows about me, but I was afraid that if I told you guys, you wouldn’t accept a...a gay friend in your group.”

“That’s bullshit!” I told him vehemently. “My uncle Craig is happily married to his boyfriend of twenty years! My mom’s friend, Jessica, just got engaged to her girlfriend, Lila.”

“I would’ve never judged you, and I can assure you the rest wouldn’t have either!”

He was staring at me in shock, as if I’d just told him I could move the moon. “Are you serious?”

“Of course, I am!” I said, disbelief coloring my words. “I’d rather you told me the truth than lied to me for so long.”

Ransom was still glaring at me, but Warren’s face softened. “You really think that?”

“You silly boy,” I snorted, “of course I think that. But I’m hurt you didn’t trust me—or any of the others—enough to tell us.”

He looked at me as though he was seeing me for the first time.

“I see,” he said, and then looked at Ransom, as if seeking confirmation. At Ransom’s encouraging nod, Warren stepped toward me and hugged me.

“I’m sorry, Nix,” he said softly, “I didn’t mean to lie to you. I was just—”

“Scared,” I said, sighed, and patted him on the back. “I know. I’m scared all the time lately, too.”

Ransom, no longer glaring at me, offered me a small smile, and when Warren stepped away, he extended his hand to shake mine.

“Let me introduce myself officially,” he said, “I’m Ransom McCormick, and I’m Warren’s fiancé.”

Warren gasped, and my eyes widened in surprise.

“Fiancé?” Warren whispered, his voice filled with hope and disbelief.

Ransom smirked and then, right there in the pub, got down on one knee in front of Warren. He pulled out a small royal-blue jewelry box from his jacket, opened it, and revealed a beautiful ring.

Everyone around us watched the scene, including Frey the bartender, who was smiling and shaking his head, as if thinking, “Kids these days.”

“I can’t believe it,” I murmured, “you just had to go and do the cheesiest thing in the world, didn’t you?”

“Warren Jacob Carmichael,” Ransom said loudly, “I love you. When you’re not with me, I feel lost. I can’t live without you.”

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you, have kids with you, be your family, your home, your everything, because I will always love you.”

He paused, looked deeply into Warren’s eyes, and asked the question everyone was waiting to hear. “Will you marry me?”

Tears welled up in Warren’s eyes.

“Yes,” he whispered, clearly shocked.

In an instant, he was in Ransom’s arms. They were kissing, hugging, and showing their love for each other in front of everyone, who were now clapping as if we were in a romantic comedy.

Meanwhile, I was wondering if I was dreaming.

Warren might’ve been surprised by the proposal, but that wasn’t what hit me like a ton of bricks. It was a realization.

If I continued the way I was, I would never get my happy ending. And since my life seemed to be spiraling out of control, it wasn’t likely I’d get any ending, happy or not.

“You okay?” someone asked me, and when I turned away from the sweet scene of the newly engaged couple, I saw Frey looking at me with concern.

Since I’d probably never see this bartender again, I decided to tell him the truth.

“I’m not sure.”