I nod slowly. “Yeah. He’s a lifeguard now.”
“Right,” Luke says, leaning closer. A scowl pulls on his mouth like he’s about to say something foul. “And get this—I heard he kissed aguylast night. In public. On the sidewalk.”
My mouth falls open, and I nearly drop my coffee. On the long list of things I expected to come out of Luke’s mouth, Mason kissing a man would’ve ranked deadlast.
“No way,” I breathe. It’s the only response I can manage.
Luke just nods, already at home in my kitchen. He grabs a mug from the cupboard, pours himself coffee without asking, and takes an unhurried sip. Leaning back against the counter, ankles crossed, he studies me over the rim.
“Yeah. My friend heard it from his sister. Not sure I believe it, though.” He shrugs. “Could be a prank. You know Mason—he doesn’t act gay. He’s always been a total ladies’ man.”
My grip tightens on the edge of the counter until my fingers ache. I stare into my coffee, watching the surface ripple as my hand starts to tremble.
I force out a slow breath. “Yeah, you’re right. Probably just a rumor, man.”
But the possibility lodges in my chest, bright and dangerous. The idea that Mason might be gay—or at least not entirely straight—sparks something I can’t describe. Hope, maybe. Like I wasn’t the only queer kid growing up in Claremont Shores. Like there were others hiding in plain sight, just as confused and scared as I was. Like maybe I wasn’t as alone as I thought.
“This town runs on gossip,” Luke says, already moving on. He wanders into the living room and drops onto my couch.
I follow and sit beside him, propping my feet on the coffee table.
“Anyway,” he says, nudging my knee with his, eyebrows waggling, “you and Phoebs were snuggled up on the boat last night. Did you get laid after the fireworks?”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
The truth is, I did end up getting laid last night. My ass is still sore in a way that makes it hard to sit too comfortably. But Luke doesn’t need to knowwhowas in my bed.
“Sure did,” I say with a casual nod.
Luke laughs and smacks my shoulder. “Atta boy!”
I snort softly and lift my mug to my lips, letting the coffee hide the smile I can’t quite contain.
The sharp blast of a horn makes me flinch as I step out of the barn, wiping my dirty hands on my jeans. Gravel crunches under my boots as I look up.
Troy’s van is parked crooked near the fence, windows down, music faintly spilling out. He’s leaning halfway out the driver’s-side window, a grin stretched wide across his face. The sight of him makes my heart flutter, and I can’t stop the smile that tugs at my mouth.
“What are you doing here?” I call, heading toward him.
He scrunches his brows in mock offense. “Surprising my hardworking boyfriend. Is that a problem?”
My fingers flex around the lip of the open window, heat rising to my cheeks. “No—no, of course not. I just—”
He cuts me off by leaning forward and catching my lips in a quick kiss. It’s brief, a soft press of his mouth to mine, but it steals the rest of my rambling anyway.
And just like that, the tight coil in my chest loosens.
It’s ridiculous how easily he does that—how he steadies me without even trying. He’s the only person who’s ever been able to quiet the noise in my head, to pull me out of the spiral of overthinking and second-guessing. With him, everything feels simpler. Lighter.
“I’m heading up to a bar in Grand Rapids to make a cider delivery,” he says, brushing a warm hand across my cheek. “Wanna join me?”
I blink a few times, startled. “Oh. I, uh…”
It’s not that I don’t want to go. The idea of riding along, of spending the evening with him in the city, of sitting beside him with the windows down and the music up—it all sounds dangerously appealing. But I glance down at myself: dirt ground into my palms, sweat dried stiff against my T-shirt, orchard dust clinging to my jeans.
Troy catches the flicker of uncertainty in my expression. His grin falters, just slightly.
“You don’t have to,” he says quickly, lifting a shoulder in a casual shrug that doesn’t quite hide the disappointment in his eyes. “I just thought it might be fun. But if you’re tired, or busy, or—whatever. No pressure. I’d just enjoy the company.”
