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Those comments hurt because Gray was one of the brightest people I knew. He radiated light, and I saw it dim a little every single time someone made him feel less than. If I could shield him from even one person’s ignorance, save him from having his spark dulled further by this small-minded town, then I would do everything in my power to make it happen.
Even if it meant rearranging Kyle’s face to set an example.
Luckily for me, Kyle was a lover, not a fighter. “Hey man, I didn’t mean anything by it! All I was saying is that everyone in this school has been trying to climb that boy like a tree since freshman year, and he’s been completely oblivious to it. Half of the cheerleading squad and the baseball team are fucking in love with him, and he’s never given any of them the time of day. Now he’s trailing after you like he's got it bad. Excuse me if I assumed that meant you had a magic mouth or some shit,” he huffed.
I honestly didn’t know what to make of that information. So, rather than responding, I pushed away from him and put on the noise-canceling headphones that Gray surprised me with last week. Pulling out my notebook, I decided getting lost in my lyrics was better than seeing the look of disappointment on Gray’s face if he caught me fighting Kyle.
I don’t know how long I sat there writing, but I was startled when I felt two large arms engulf me in a bear hug from behind. I didn’t even have to glance over my shoulder to recognize Gray’s mouthwatering cinnamon and musk scent that always lingered, despite none of his hygiene products containing those kinds of ingredients. Not that I’d gone snooping through his things or anything.
For a fleeting moment, I allowed myself to relax into his embrace before I swiveled in my chair to meet his gaze. Freshly showered, he looked so fucking good it made my mouth water.
The smile he cast my way as our eyes met felt different. There was a hint of shyness, a touch of nervousness that differed from his usual self-assured demeanor. Before I could dwell on the cause for the change, he broke the silence, at the same time his gaze dropped, mercifully putting an end to my misery.
“Ah, so I had a favor I wanted ask you, Colt.” His gaze remained glued to the floor, another uncharacteristic gesture on his part.
In an instant, my spirits plummeted like air escaping a balloon. I should have known better than to entertain the notion that he could be different. That he could just act this way without expecting anything in return.
“And pray tell, Grayson, what might this favor entail?” I ground out through gritted teeth.
Then, his gaze met mine once more, and in that moment, vulnerability etched across his features like I’d never witnessed before. “Would you consider going on a date with me this Saturday?”
I stared at him in total shock, mouth agape, resembling a fish yanked out of water.
“If it’s a no, t-that’s fine. I just really like you, and getting to know you better has been… the best. I know we’ve been growing closer as friends, but I was hoping for a chance for us to be more than that, if that’s something you want. If you let me take you on a date, I’ll try to show you how much you mean to me and how incredibly special I think you are.”
Holy shit. He sounded genuinely scared I would reject him. A not entirely unfounded concern, given my sporadic coldness. However, that was before. Before I gave myself permission to let Gray breach my walls. And in response to his vulnerable plea, I offered the only acceptable reply.
“Yes, Gray. I’d love to go on a date with you.”
10. “Secrets”
Grayson
Typically, I had my anxiety under control. Through journaling and running every morning, I was almost able to cosplay a fully-functioning person. In fact, while I got a bit excitable at times, to others my default setting appeared to be laid-back and easygoing. Even before high-stakes games, the team often sought my calming presence to quell their nerves.
As we ventured out of town, the fluttering in my stomach kicked up ten notches. It was a familiar sensation at this point that usually appeared at random moments just to remind me my anxiety hadn't actually gone anywhere. Since Colt had entered my life, a perpetual state of flustered bewilderment seemed to accompany me in his presence. And now, with his agreement to an actual date, the pressure to leave a lasting impression seemed like a monumental task.
A swift glance to my right revealed Colt gazing out of the truck window, absorbing the scenery of endless farmland and cows. Lots of cows. I swiftly redirected my attention to the road, wary of getting too distracted by the allure of Colt’s thoughts clad in those jeans.
When I had rapped on his door this morning, signaling it was time to leave, I nearly choked on my own tongue when he swung it open, revealing a sight that took my breath away. Then, I took in the finer details and registered the clothes he wore were vaguely familiar.
A few weeks back, I had insisted on taking him shopping. He’d been clinging to his handful of spare shirts and boxers, remnants of what I’d bought him that first weekend. Predictably, he’d been a stubborn ass about my wish to purchase the items for him, instead wanting to dip into his tip jar. It took some convincing, and he only agreed when I pointed out that neither of us had time to do laundry several times a week and noted that any money I spent on clothing would be recouped in our decreased utility bills. I kept the genuine reason, my innate desire to care for him, locked away in the recesses of my brain.
Wisely, I’d stifled my laughter when the sales assistant boldly directed him to the kids’ section, triggering that fierce scowl he made no effort to conceal. And Colt being Colt, he refused to listen. It wasn’t until the tenth pair of jeans slid down to his ankles that he conceded, his bony hips defying the dimensions of even the smallest adult sizes.
I’d often been likened to a Great Dane puppy by others, a comparison that I’ve never quite been able to see. However, when it came to Colt, he undeniably fit the description of a human equivalent of a Whippet—lean and all ribs. Although, if you were to gauge his personality, it leaned more towards that of a chihuahua.
As it turned out, Colt wasn’t exactly thrilled with his limited wardrobe options and only mustered some enthusiasm when I suggested he customize them. So, our journey home ended with a detour via the fabric store.
Upon our return from the shopping escapade, Colt wasted no time transforming the dining table into his makeshift studio. Armed with only a pair of scissors and a needle and thread, he got to work, effortlessly adapting his clothes to perfectly mirror his vibrant personality. His creative talents never failed to leave me in awe.
His once straight-leg jeans underwent a metamorphosis, now hugging his form with a tailored snugness that accentuated his subtle curves. Paired with an artfully slashed t-shirt turned crop top, revealing more of his milky smooth skin than ever before. That it would be the ultimate test of my self-restraint only further complicated matters. He rounded off the ensemble with black combat boots, and he boasted a full face of expertly applied makeup, featuring a smokey eye and perfectly symmetrical winged black liner. His dark curtain bangs framed his face, enhancing the overall stunning effect.
The subtle smirk he directed my way in response to my speechlessness spoke volumes. He was well aware how hot he looked today, a confidence that only made him more appealing. While I cherished the moments when Colt allowed himself to be vulnerable and shy with me, the fact he was emerging from his cocoon enough to acknowledge my attraction and reciprocate it, through the simple act of dressing up for our date, held a significance he might not fully grasp.
Colt possessed an aura of confidence that seemingly never wavered, a facade I’d come to recognize as more an act than genuine self-assurance. However, that smirk—the bona fide confidence he exuded in his new clothes—was a revelation. Through finally being able to curate his style the way he wanted, he was coming into his own and he wanted me to acknowledge it.
Now, if only a fraction of his newfound confidence could rub off on me…
