It was worth it, I think.
The pain, the rejection, it was all worth it to get to this moment.
“Hey, Doc!”
I look up to find three men I recognize from around town standing in a circle, holding cups of steaming drinks. The one who called out gives me a wave that I return, prompting the group to walk over to my bench. “We haven’t seen you around lately.”
“Last minute,” I say, standing once I’ve finished tying my shoes.
“You know,” he says, quieter. “I get that he’s family and all. But I gotta say, Nolan, it ain’t a great look hanging around somebody like that.” He nods behind me. “The people in this town are supposed to trust you.”
I start to respond, no clue what to say to that other than ‘mind your own business’, but I don’t get the chance when I hear footsteps behind me, crunching on the gravel.
Will is right there, his face flat, closed off again. The same as before. At the grocery store. At the church. Like he’s trying not to let it bother him, but I know it does.
“Ready?” he says to me, avoiding the other men’s judgmental looks. I nod, starting toward the parking lot without saying a single word to the group of men.
Neither of us say anything on the drive back to my house. I sit with the words the man said, the same Will probably is too, and as much as I hate to admit it—
They’re not wrong.
I know what it looks like. I know what it means for my family and my business. It’s bad, simple as that. I’ve seen what’s happened if you’re gay in a town like this. Not to mention the fact that he’s my brother-in-law who just got out of prison.
But my heart wants Will Davis, no matter how much I know this is a bad idea.
“Will,” I start when he pulls into the driveway.
“Don’t,” he says, sounding more exhausted than I think I’ve ever heard him, rubbing a hand over his face.
“I was going to say I had fun,” I tell him, reaching for his hand, pulling it from his face. “I had a really good time.” He keeps his gaze on the windshield. “Even if you are a terrible skater.”
The corner of his mouth twitches as he rolls his head to look at me, a vulnerability on his face that I rarely see. So with a surgeof bravery, I reach over and take his face in my hands, and I kiss him.
He’s still at first, surprised, but then he kisses me back, his hand finding the hem of my sweater, sliding underneath to rest his cold hand on my bare skin.
I feel like a teenager, kissing my crush in the front seat of his car. But he’s warm, and he smells good, and for all the times we’ve messed around, I don’t feel like I’ve kissed him enough.
When we pull back for air, neither of us let go.
“Kids aren’t home,” he says, his thumb moving against my skin.
“I don’t put out on the first date.” I move out of his grasp, sitting back in my seat and adjusting my sweater while he looks at me with a flat expression.
“You gotta be kidding me.”
“I’m not. I’m a very serious person, you know this.”
“It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?” he says, clearly thinking I’m being unreasonable. “I mean, we’ve fucked just about everywherebutyour bed at this point.”
“That was before we went on a date.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Yes, it does. I have standards.”
He drops his head back against the headrest. “Wow. Okay.”
“I had a really nice time, though.”
