Coda 05 -Paris a to Z

Cole, and they laughed a lot as they talked, but at no point did Jared touch him back. At no point did he even seem to register the fact that Cole was touching him.
They were drinking, laughing, simply having fun, both of them seemingly without a care in the world.
I looked away from them to the other side of the table, where Zach and Jon continued their strange, tense, magnetic dance.
And at that moment, the truth hit me so hard, it left me a bit stunned: Cole really was no threat to me.
Of course, Id known it all along, way back in the rational part of my brain. But somehow, Id still been jealous. Id been so sure that every time Jared was with Cole, he was thinking about all the times theyd been in bed together. Id been worried that he missed the sex.
Watching them together now, I could see that there was nothing but friendship between them. Unlike Zach and Jon, who seemed to constantly be aware of one another, constantly circling one another, constantly catching each others eye and then looking away, Jared and Cole interacted in a way that was, for lack of a better description, completely casual. There was no tension between them at all. Jared acted with Cole the way he did with Zach, or the way I did with Angelo—absolutely at ease.
“Hey,” I said to Jared when there was a bit of a break in his conversation with Cole. He turned to look at me, and his smile was suddenly replaced by guilt. Hed forgotten I was there, and now he felt bad about it. I didnt want that. “Im going to bed,” I told him.
“Im sorry—” he started to say, but I cut him off.
“Dont be. Im just tired.” Tired was a bit of an understatement, actually. Exhausted was more accurate. “Besides, youre having fun.”
“Ill be up in just a few minutes.”
“Dont hurry,” I said. “You dont get to see him very often. You should spend time together while you can.”
He glanced sideways at Cole, who was pointedly not listening to our conversation, then back at me. His expression was a mixture of relief and disbelief. “Are you mad?”
“Not a bit,” I said, and when I still saw doubt in his eyes, I tugged one of his curls, simply because I knew it would make him smile.
“You sure?” he asked.
“Positive.” I kissed his cheek. “Everythings fine,” I whispered in his ear. “I promise.”

Zach…
    A NGELO was strangely withdrawn the entire meal. My attempts to talk to him were as unsuccessful as Jons were to engage Cole, and Jon and I somehow found ourselves seemingly in our own little world. I suspected we were both anxious to be out of it. Matts suspicious scrutiny of us was unwavering. I couldnt help but wish hed go back to being jealous of Cole instead. It was a relief to finally leave the dinner table.
    I followed Angelo out of the dining room and across the lobby to the elevator, and each step away from Jon was like a pound off of my chest. Leaving his presence left me feeling like I could actually breathe again for the first time all day. I did not love him—not anymore, at least—and I knew just as surely that he did not love me. He loved Cole. He practically worshiped him, as I worshiped Angelo, and whatever had happened between us on the tour had been the result of alcohol and nostalgia and nothing more.
    I didnt want to spend another day with him. I wanted nothing more than to leave Paris, to take Angelo and fly back to Colorado and our normal life together.
    Angelo and I were alone in the elevator, and as soon as the doors closed, I pulled him into my arms. I buried my face in his hair. I lifted his shirt and ran my hand up the smooth skin of his back. I rejoiced in the familiar feel of his slim body against mine.
    “I love you so much,” I told him, and I felt the truth of the words inside of me. I hated that seeing Jon could make me forget how much I loved Angelo, even if it had only been for a moment.
    “You okay, Zach?” he asked, his voice muffled against my chest. “Youre actin weird.”
I laughed and held him tighter. “So are you.”
Before he could answer, the elevator dinged, announcing our arrival on our floor, and I let him go. I followed him to our room, thinking the entire time about how much I wanted to hold him, and kiss him, and make love to him. I wanted to lose myself in my worship of him, and forget everything else that had happened since that morning. But when we got back to our room, he resisted my efforts to pull him close.
“Not yet, Zach,” he said, sidestepping me. He crossed the