There's a noticeable lack of emotion in his voice.
My fingertips skim the cut. “Yeah.”
His expression remains impassive.
I clear my throat and jerk my chin toward the field. “Larson was talking shit about you.”
His shoulders slump. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he scoffs under his breath.
“He shouldn't bother you?—”
“I don’t need a knight in shining armor, Sebastian.” The way he hisses my name clamps my jaw shut. His icy stare slices to the bone. “I can handle him perfectly fine on my own. There are much scarier things in this world than Grant Larson.”
My fists clench. Unclench. Clench.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not gonna stand there and do nothing while some jackass calls you names and spreads lies about you liking guys.”
No outrage.
Not even a hint of surprise.
He looks… tired.
“He’s not lying,” Cade sighs. “Idolike guys. Girls too. Gender doesn’t matter to me and I’m not ashamed of that.”
The foundation of my faith quakes.It’s wrong. Condemned. Sinful.But he's not lying. It's evident in his eyes.
Which flutter. Unfocus. Then roll back to the whites. He sways.Is he possessed after all?
His knees give out?—
I catch him right before his head smacks the concrete foundation of the bleachers. Gently easing him to the ground, I cradle his face and lightly slap his cheek.
“Come on, Cade, wake up.”
His skin is grey; I can almost trace the web of blue veins beneath.
My hands shake. “Stop scaring me, asshole. Wakeup.”
A low groan.
Tingling relief washes through me.
“What…” Cade wrinkles his nose and squints. “Happened?”
Sandpaper lines my throat. “You fainted.”
His lips part. Brows knit. Like my words don't register.
All the adrenaline from the fight, from his admission, from whatever the fuck just happened, crashes as reality rushes in. My grip on his face tightens.
“Did you eat today?”
He blinks.
That’s a no.
“Why, Cade?” My voice cracks.Fuck.“Why are you doing this to yourself?”
