Tom doesn’t even try to hide the filthy grin that takes over his face. The two of them together are giving cruel intentions vibes.
Her legs turn to pudding the second Tom lets go. That’s when she drops straight into my arms. Mistake or design? I don’t know. My best guess is the second.
She recovers quickly, flicking an auburn strand from her face like nothing happened.
“Oh wow,” she giggles. “Looks like I’m already falling for you, handsome.”
She barely finishes her sentence before Calvin barrels in.
“DON’T BOTHER, BABY. HE—”
He what?
Calvin stops himself just in time to swallow the rest of his words. He’s drunk, but not drunk enough to finish that sentence.
Still, a liquor-induced grin tugs at his mouth.
“He’s Tom’s babysitter tonight,” he says instead.
Every head turns. My shoulders stiffen, and I focus on the hookah instead of their faces.
I’m not even sure what’s worse: Calvin blurting out that I’m gay in front of his friends, or reducing me to Tom’s handler like I’m here to keep him on a leash.
This is how they see it, apparently. Tiffy too.
I glance to my right. Tom looks furious, face crimson and the vein at his temple ticking hard.
My stomach drops.
This is exactly what Tom told me hurts him most, being treated like a problem that needs managing.
Fucking Calvin.
He should take a long look at himself, but I’m starting to think this little bomb is a smokescreen for his fear. The fear that Tom’s changing. He’s becoming more independent, someone they barely recognize anymore.
Except, Calvin is just noise. Jay is the real danger. I need to be ready for the day I face him, because the world Jay controls nearly killed Tom.
Which is why, more than anything, I want to keep Tom with me so he has a safe space to grow. I want to show him all the freedom life has to offer. I’m starting to believe I’m the only one who can.
Tom places his palm between my shoulder blades.
“Sorry about this. Let’s get out of here.”
We turn to leave, but Calvin isn’t done.
“Where are you going, Tom? Your drink’s right here. Or is he not letting you join us?”
Laughter erupts behind us.
Tom’s back straightens, hand going rigid against my spine.
Baby is the first to react, shoving Calvin’s shoulder hard enough to slosh his drink.
“Cal, don’t be such a fucking wanker.”
Her hiss doesn’t matter because the damage is already done. Tom’s fingers are twisting into my shirt, his palm pressing into my spine so hard I have to brace myself.
With one quick turn, he storms back to the group, snatching the glass straight out of Calvin’s hand.
