He gives me another smile, seemingly brighter than before, but I can still see the cracks hidden behind it. It’s definitely an act. One he’s likely perfected over the years to the point that no one else could see through it. I don’t know exactly when I got to the point where I could tell the difference, but it’s plain as day that he’s still unhappy. And now I’m worried I may have added to his suffering.
Once we find our way back into the house, I make a point to drag him to a secluded corner with no prying eyes at the first opportunity I find, and I push him against the wall so I can kiss himproperly. His eyes widen in surprise at my brazen action, but he quickly melts into the embrace, wrapping his arms around me, and I can almost feel the relief coming off of him like a physical release. That alone is enough to make me wish someone would catch us so I can finally stop dicking around and kiss him like this any time I want, regardless of who sees it. The need for his lips upon mine is an addiction, and his kiss lights my soul ablaze. Undeniably, he feels it too by the way the tension in his shoulders drops.
Only after we part does Luke’s smile feel genuine again. He cups my face in his hand, brushing his thumb over my cheek, long fingers scraping through my beard, and I can sense the sea of thoughts behind his eyes as he searches my face. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. I can feel it all in the air between us, a deep understanding that goes beyond words.We stick together, no matter what.
And we do. For the rest of the evening, I stay as close to him as possible without making it obvious that we’re together. If we do touch, we keep it to a simple brush of our shoulders or a hand on each other’s backs as we move to get by one another, but each connection is enough to send warmth through my belly. Part of me knows it’s the only way I can express my affections for now, but another part of me is afraid to let him out of my sight again—afraid that the moment I do, that unfathomable sadness will return.
The party eventually dies down by about eight, most of the guests dispersing by six or seven. Now, only the closest of us to Marcus and Tiff remain, and we’re hanging out in their sunroom, drinking and laughing as we reminisce about what it was like when we were kids.
Ryder and his friends have migrated down to the basement to play Fortnite and overindulge on pop and candy, and even his boyfriend, whose name I eventually learned is Justin, was allowed to stay the night. However, it was under the condition thatonlysleeping is involved. Marcus laid a very firm ‘no sex in my house’ rule, but by the deep shade of red both kids turned at the mention, I’m not even sure they’ve gotten to that stage in their relationship yet.
Still, it was cute watching Marcus get to act like our dads when we were younger and hanging out with our first girlfriends. That slightly domineering attitude felt like such a firm hand at the time, but now I realize it was probably just as weird for them to have to say shit like that to us when they didn’t mind what we did, as long as we were smart about it. At least with Ryder, there’s no fear of teenage pregnancy, so I suppose that’s one thing knocked off of Marcus’s plate of worries.
Throughout the rest of the evening, Luke and I sit on the floor with barely an inch of space between us. I can feel the warmth of his body radiating against mine, giving me quiet comfort in having him so close. I’ve been so tempted to reach out and put my hand on his leg the longer we’ve sat here, the desire feeling somewhat predatory, like a need to stake my claim on him in a way that tells everyone he’s mine. But I haven’t had nearlyenough alcohol to strip me of my inhibitions, so instead, I sit with my arms folded tightly across my chest like they’re too untrustworthy to be left alone.
Eventually, the effects of my lack of sleep the night before catch up with me, and my whole body crashes by nine o’clock. I start yawning, and my eyes begin to lose focus. The longer the night goes on, the harder it is for me to stay awake. The others’ conversations meld together, and I can’t follow along with the words as they shift between coherence and a garbled mess.
I don’t feel myself slumping over or realize I’m leaning heavily into Luke’s side until my head’s entirely on his shoulder, and my eyelids feel so heavy that I lose the fight to keep them open. By that point, the effort to sit back up is too monumental to accomplish, so I don’t bother trying. I’m too tired to even be concerned about what this might look like to the others. Instead, Luke’s warmth beside me acts like a balm to my exhaustion, luring me deeper toward sleep.
Eventually, I lose my grip on reality, my consciousness fading. I might have dreamt of the touch of someone’s hands guiding me down to the floor, or maybe it really happened. All I know is that I want to keep Luke’s body close to mine, and I reach out in my delirium to find him. Only when I feel his long fingers cover mine can I fully relax into oblivion.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Resolutions
ThenextthingI’mconscious of is that it’s dark and quiet. In my half-wakeful state, I reach out for Luke in the blackness, but my heart lurches when I find he’s not next to me. A burst of irrational fear moves through me which can only come with the disorientation of waking up and forgetting where I am.
I call out for him almost involuntarily, sitting up with a start. “Luke?”
“I’m here,” a soft reply comes from behind me, and I flip my head around, searching for the source in the pitch black. He's lying across the room, far enough out of reach where I can’t touch him, but my heart settles anyway. I let out a heavy sigh, some of the panic easing.
It takes another moment for the disorientation to fade before I realize I never stopped to see if we were alone. Thankfully, it’s only the two of us left in the room. Everyone else must have gone home or possibly off to one of the guest bedrooms. Someone appears to have put a pillow under my head and covered me in a thick blanket, but I never felt a thing.
When I notice the distance Luke has placed between us, my heart sinks. It was clearly deliberate, a tactical choice to protect me while we’re out in the open at Marcus’s house. It should be comforting to think he’s looking out for me. I can’t help but find it frustrating instead. The fact that he evenhadto make that kind of calculation because of me…when it should have been the simplest thing in the world for him to sleep next to me instead.
If he were a woman, no one would have questioned or made a big deal out of the two of us curling up in each other's arms, even if they didn’t know we were dating. There wouldn’t be any concerned looks or confusion seeing the two of us together—just knowing smiles and maybe a few raunchy jokes, but also immediate and total acceptance of the fact that we were together. It shouldn’t be any different just because he’s a man.
So why do I feel likeI’mtreating it like it is?
“Are you okay?” Luke asks after a moment, his voice soft and nasally. It immediately draws my attention back to him, and I frown at the words—not for the question, but for how it was spoken. It almost sounds like he’s been crying. And when he sucks in a staggered breath a moment later, it only confirms my suspicion.
A switch flips in my brain at the sound of his pain, and I feel a surge of possessiveness strike through me like a lightning bolt. Something primal and instinctual is unleashed, and the need to find whatever has hurt him and wrestle it to the ground overpowers my senses. I won’t let him continue to wallow in quiet agony.
I drag my pillow and blanket over until we’re right next to each other. Luke bristles slightly at my approach, almost looking like he wants to move away.
“What are you—” he starts, but then gasps as I scoop an arm under his neck, snaking the other over his waist, pulling him back against my chest somewhat forcefully. “Ethan!” hewhisper-shouts in disbelief. “Are you crazy? Someone will catch us.”
I don’t respond. I just pull him tighter against me, feeling a little of that possessive anger quell now that he’s exactly where he belongs. And even though his words proclaim a belief that this is the wrong call, his body language betrays his true desires. He doesn’t fight me or push me away. Instead, he leans back against me, melting into the curve of my body with ease, the two of us coming together like the final piece in a puzzle snapping into place, revealing the whole picture. The shape of his body against mine is a refuge that cannot be duplicated.
I inhale his earthen scent as it assaults me, and the subtle sweetness of his lingering cologne eases my distress further.
“Ethan, we really shouldn’t sleep like this,” Luke murmurs, though his relaxed sigh makes me feel like he doesn’t actually want that outcome. He’s speaking it more out of a sense of duty than anything else. “Someone will see us.”
“Let them see,” I say gruffly. This time, I mean it.
Hiding the fact that Luke and I are dating is becoming exhausting, and I don’t like what it’s doing to either of us. My cowardice and anxiety about coming out have crippled me more than they’ve protected me, and I can see clearly how my fear is tied to something so arbitrary that it’s stupid. Maybe I don’t have to be ready to shout about it from the rooftops or wave a big banner that says, “I’m Dating This Man!”in front of a town of small-minded idiots. It’s none of their fucking business who I’m dating anyway. But I’m done pretending nothing is going on either. Fuck the aloof, detached, ‘just friends’ attitude. We’renotjust friends.
“Ethan, if someone sees…” Luke tries to protest again.
