“Oh and—by the way—theydidn’tpick me to be in the advanced group. We found out when we went to pay. So thanks for that embarrassment.”
The blood drains from Matt’s face as he tries to keep up. “I thought it was just a paid thing.”
“It ended up that way, at least.” Robert shrugs. “I asked them if you were in my group, and they said you hadn’t paid yet, so I made Dad put you on my tab. The rest was history.”
“But—but that wasyourmoney!”
“Yeah. It was supposed to be for college or whatever, but I wanted to spend it on you. Us.” Robert motions between the two of them. “Our friendship, y’know? You were my best friend.”
No. Matt didn’t know.
He only ever wanted to race. As a child, he never thought of Bobby as anything other than a stepping stone to get there. He didn’t even like talking to the younger boy until they started traveling together. Until they were teenagers.
Matt had just been focused on racing.
“I need to sit down,” he says, wobbling in place.
Robert steps back as Matt stumbles forward and collapses on the bed. “I understand that it’s probably a lot to take in.”
Matt makes a wholly undignified “Ha!” noise into the mattress.
“But that’s why I didn’t want to tell you.” The bed shifts when Robert sits on the edge of it. “Ever.Never. Even when we weren’t good. I thought I’d take it to my grave.”
“Uhhn,” Matt groans. It’s muffled since he’s face down, but Robert probably gets the gist.
It’s good that Matt knows who to thank for his entire life. But, still, he can’t fathom someone liking him enough to sacrifice anything for him, much less however many millions of dollars Robert must have spent over the years.
Bobby hadn’t even wanted to race. He wanted to play football.
“Hey.”
A hand softly cards through Matt’s hair, fingertips just grazing his scalp. It’s comforting in a way he doesn’t deserve.
He forgot what it’s like to be vulnerable around Robert—about physical touch and letting himself let go. Matt has relied on Laurent and his penchant for avoidance for so long that it feels wrong to let someone in.
Feels like he’s setting himself up to be hurt. Again.
“Hey,” Robert says again. “You okay?”
“I owe you so much.” Not just money—everything.
“That wasn’t the point of me telling you.” Robert presses against the side of Matt’s skull until his face turns towards him on the mattress. “The point is that you don’t owe my father anything. He had no business giving you that advice. It was shitty advice.”
Robert’s eyes are so light. In the warmth of the hotel lamp light, they almost look yellow.
Matt nods, but he’s not exactly sure what he’s agreeing to.
“Listen to me—you don’t have to be ashamed to be gay.Private? Sure. God knows how much press we all deal with—it’s nice to have privacy. But the shame? That fear you had when you thought someone might hear us? That’s not good for you. It’s not a healthy way to live.”
Matt exhales, melting deeper into the mattress. “It’s not that simple.”
“Sometimes it really is.” Robert’s fingers stiffen as he musses Matt’s hair up, ruining any of the nice ringlet curls he might’ve still had.
“Hey!” Matt kicks his legs out as he smacks at the offending digits like he’s swatting a fly.
Robert ignores him, standing and stretching his neck. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy. You don’t look happy.”
“Yeah, ‘cause you fucked up my hair.” Matt hauls himself upright and fingers at his curls for an excuse to turn away.
