A lightbulb flashes in my head with sudden clarity. Whenever I’ve stepped in to assist Luke against his will, he’s always reacted the same way. Tense, a little angry, slightly bitter—almost like it’s a knee-jerk response. Like he’s lashing out from his discomfort of being helped when he didn’t ask for it.
Our conversation yesterday only solidifies the realization, the brutal honesty of how he doesn’t like being fussed over ringing in my head. Here I’ve gone again, stepping in when he didn’t want me to… Except, what would the alternative have been if I did nothing? Frank assaulting Luke in broad daylight while I stood by, acting as if it wasn’t happening? Is that what he really would have wanted instead? How could I have lived with myself?
When Luke meets my eye again, I can almost see his desire to crawl under a rock to avoid this conversation. I’m acutely aware that he’s uncomfortable, but I’m also unable to react the way I would like to with the guys behind me, watching this whole encounter—especially after what Frank potentially revealed. Their non-reaction to his words tells me that they didn’t believe him, but it does little to ease my worry. Then a pang of guilt shoots through my chest to think that my cowardice is actively fucking shit up, and the knowledge alone isn’t enough to counteract it.
“Are you okay?” I ask Luke instead when it seems his words have failed him. My eyes dart down to his arm, and I frown. “I grabbed you kind of hard.”
Luke briefly brushes his hand over the exact spot before shrugging, glancing up at me with a timid smile. “I should probably thank you for holding me back, or I might have been on my way to the morgue.”
“I haven’t seen Frank that angry in a while,” Marcus says thoughtfully. “Whatever you said really pissed him off.”
“You had some pretty sick comebacks, though,” Ben pipes in, and Eric and Marcus nod their agreement.
Luke smirks. “I did, didn’t I? I always wanted to stand up to him like that.”
But when he looks at me again, I can see unease behind his eyes. I feel it, too. We haven’t seen the last of Frank. I replay his comment over and over in my head. ‘Your boyfriend.’ It wasn’t a simple snide remark to get a rise out of me. No, it was stated asfact, and Frank dared me to deny it. It leaves a pit in my stomach to think he genuinely knows about us, and now I can only wonder what he plans to do about it.
As soon as the door to the upstairs office closes, Luke wraps his arms around me and buries his face in the crook of my neck, releasing a full-body sigh. My arms find their way around him on reflex, and I pull him closer, the tension in my shoulders relaxing now that he’s where he belongs.
“Hi there,” I croon, brushing my fingers up and down his back in an attempt to soothe him.
“I’m sorry.” Luke groans against my skin, his grip tightening. “I’ve wanted to do this all morning.”
“Me too.” I grin, kissing his shoulder.
We stand like that for a minute, Luke taking whatever it is he needs from me and me just being happy to let him. When we pull apart, his eyes lift to mine, and I can see he’s still upset.
“Hey…” I frown, cupping his face in my hand. He leans into it. “What’s wrong?”
“Frank knows,” he says softly. “I don’t know how he found out, but he definitely knows.”
My stomach drops at the confirmation of what I’d already suspected. I sigh, dragging a hand down my face. “Fuck.”
“I’m so sorry.” Luke's voice shakes. “I feel like this is my fault somehow.”
“Stop that,” I demand. “It doesn’t matter how Frank found out. He’s a fucking dick on the best of days, so even if he was throwing darts in a pitch-black room, he’d still manage to hit his mark half the time.”
Luke doesn’t look reassured.
I frown. “He hasn’t exposed us yet.”
“After today, he might. It’s kind of his M.O., using information like this for payback. I’ve seen him do it before, and I don’t want you to get hurt like I was.”
Sighing, I look up at the decrepit ceiling of the disused office that has quickly become a sanctuary of sorts for the two of us. It’s the only place in the whole building where we can justbewithout worrying about being seen or having to restrain ourselves. But now the walls feel paper-thin, like eyes are everywhere, and we’re exposed. It makes my skin crawl.
My mind goes through the myriad ways this could end badly, my heart racing as the fear and anxiety of being outed before I’m ready threatens to take hold. I cycle through the top ten worst-case scenarios, starting with all my friends hating and abandoning me for not telling them myself and ending with me changing my name and moving to New Mexico. Admittedly, those are extremes, and unlikely to happen, but my imagination cannot be tamed.
Still, I don’t like this feeling. Even more poignantly, I don’t appreciate the idea that someone likeFrankcould have that kind of power over me, making me feel this way.For Christ’s sake, I’m bigger than him, and I know I could beat his ass with one punch if it came to a fistfight. Am I really going to sithere and let that prick take control of my life just because he disapproves of who I’m dating? No, I don’t think so.
“Fuck him.” My words are bold. Sure.Right.Grabbing Luke’s hips, I pull him close to me, holding him firmly. He drops his forehead against mine, closing his eyes. “He can only hurt me if I let him, and he’s not worth it—like you said. If he does tell people, then… Then, I’ll deal with it.”
“You shouldn’thaveto deal with it.” Luke groans. “You shouldn’t have to worry about someone like him telling everyone your truth before you’re ready.”
There’s a fury behind his sentiment, a staunch protectiveness that makes my chest ache.
“You know, it wouldn’t matter so much if I had the balls to come out to everyone myself.” I laugh, but it feels hollow. “If he gets to it before I do, then at least it’ll finally be out there. And maybe that won’t be so bad.”
“You say that now.” Luke tenses, standing up straighter and looking into my eyes seriously. “But when people start looking at you differently, or treating you like you’re a walking plague, it’s harder to keep a positive attitude. When so-called friends start abandoning you because they’re afraid being gay is somehow contagious, or once-friendly neighbors leave vaguely threatening messages in the mailbox, it’s hard pretending that doesn’t mess with you. Getting physically harassed in the streets by religious zealots saying your sexuality is a sin and that you shouldn’t exist, or will be punished to eternal damnation, just for loving the wrong kind of person… It’s enough to make you want to kill yourself.”
