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“That was the night I knew I loved you,” he whispered.
My heart clenched. Loved. Past tense. It wasn’t how he felt about me now. My eyes stung, and I struggled to keep the tears at bay. The last thing I wanted to do was get emotional in front of him.
“You never responded to me at the festival,” he said.
“What question?”
“About moving somewhere else. You know, pursuing your music. You could make it big.”
“I’m a mechanic.”
“That’s not all you have to be. There are so many opportunities out there for you with your music.”
“Rosewood is my home, Troy. I love it here. The people are kind and honest. I love what I do with my garage. My music is for fun, and I’m happy to keep it that way. I’m not looking for fame or money.”
Just you.
“Okay.”
Silence stretched between us. An awkward silence I couldn’t bear.
“Are you coming to the reunion? The band will perform there.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not? You’re already here.”
“Why not? You seriously don’t know?”
“People have changed, Troy. I’ve changed.”
“It just has a lot of terrible memories, okay?”
“What about the wonderful memories we had? Can’t that be enough?”
He didn’t answer, but I was getting used to that.
12
TROY
Troy
How I’d let Maddix talk me into attending the ten-year high school reunion was beyond me. It wasn’t even that he wore me down by persistently asking. He’d done exactly the opposite, not once mentioning it, although we’d spent every day together since having sex on the rooftop. I’d even shown up at his garage yesterday to see what was so special about the place that he refused to pursue his music. From what I’d seen, he enjoyed working with his hands, getting grease beneath his fingernails, sweating like a pig.
I grudgingly admitted he seemed quite good at what he did. Plus, overalls had never looked as sexy as they did on him.
He’d whispered the filthiest thing in my ear that if I hung around after everyone left, he would let me fuck him in his office over his desk. It didn’t quite happen that way, though. Neither of us had lube. I’d let him suck me off first. Then I’d bent him over the desk and, with my spit, fingered him until he shot his load over the floor.
We’d gone back to his place, watched a movie around two boxes of pizza and apple cider he’d bought at the festival. When the movie finished, we’d argued about the ending. Then he’d challenged me to play video games. I’d crushed him. To cut my gloating short, he’d straddled my lap and ridden my dick down to a nub.
Spent, we’d watched another movie while I pretended not to notice him glancing at me every so often. I’d silently begged him not to ask me to the school reunion again, and the weirdest thing had happened. He hadn’t. Like he’d never really wanted to in the first place but had done it out of obligation.
As I’d said good night, I’d told him the good news. I’d go with him to the reunion. I’d expected him to back out and say he wasn’t really serious about us. That there was no way he would be okay with people from our year group knowing we were sort of an item after the way he’d treated me.
He’d surprised me by fist pumping the air, then kissed me good night.
He must have rigged the whole thing and made me agree without asking me.
