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“I never really had a coming-out moment,” Huckslee answers slowly, sliding an arm around Taylor’s waist. “It sort of happened for me in high school. By the time I got to college, I was just dating men, and word spread on its own. I was never concerned about what the NFL thought because, well…this isn’t what I plan on doing forever. There are more important things in my life.”

“Ah. That makes sense.” My gaze drifts to Shilo, showing someone his age how to play the game he picked. His hands gesture awkwardly as he explains the buttons, and the sight puts a small smile on my lips.

“What I can say, though,” Taylor interjects, studying me intently, “is that hiding who you are eats away at your soul until there’s nothing left. Trust me. Someone wise once told me that the people who matter already know the truth.”

He flashes his boyfriend a quick wink, and I consider his words, rolling them over in my mind. “That’s great advice. Thank you.”

“Is he yours?” Huckslee asks, nodding toward Shilo, who’s still at the arcade.

A lump rises in my throat, but I manage to swallow it down and nod slowly. “Yes. Mine.”

At least in private, far from home. But what would I give to claim him out loud? To let the world know he’s mine without hesitation?

Five months. That’s all it’ll take. Once Ronin steps down, I can finally give Shilo what he deserves.

Someone who can claim him proudly. Someone who isn’t afraid.

Shilo

“Daaamn. I think I’d fuck you like this.”

KC sets down the eyeliner he just applied to my eyes, tilting his head as he scrutinizes me. His gaze lingers until I squirm. “Seriously, Shilo, you’re hot.”

Tina nods in agreement beside him, and I snort, hopping off his bathroom counter. In the mirror, I take in my reflection—tight pants, a flowing crop top, shimmering skin from blush. For a brief moment, I almost like what I see. Almost.

Then my eyes land on my stomach, and the moment shatters. “I’m not hot. Do you have a longer shirt?”

“What? Why?” KC plants his hands on his hips as I eye his flat, smooth torso with a scowl.

“Because I don’t look like you.”

He blinks, sharing a look with Tina before dropping his hands. “No, you’re small and adorable. I’m tall and scrawny.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” I mumble, poking at my side. “I’ve got… stretch marks.”

“So?” Tina pulls up their skirt, revealing their thick thighs. “I do, too.”

“And my bottom teeth are crooked,” KC adds, pulling down his lip to show me. “See?”

From the living room, Carpenter chimes in, “I get zits on my ass!”

KC grins, makeup sparkling as he folds his arms. “So what should I do? Stop smiling? Should Tina stop wearing skirts?”

“Well, no,” I mumble, shaking my head. “That’s ridiculous. You both should do whatever you want, but I’m just…me.”

Tina offers a sad smile, picking up a tube of mascara and meeting my gaze in the mirror. “We’re all our own worst critics, love. And I know it sounds cliché, but beauty is more than skin deep. You’re imperfectly perfect, and that’s what makes you…you.”

“Are you comfortable in that outfit?” KC checks, dressed similarly. “Like, how does it make you feel?”

I let the question settle, fingers brushing over the soft fabric as it swishes against my sternum. “I feel nice. Pretty.”

“Then fuck what anyone else has to think or say. It’s your birthday, and you deserve to feel pretty.”

Yeah, my birthday. The big twenty-two, and instead of spending it with Ryann, the person I really want to be with, I’m heading to some college party I couldn’t care less about.

Sighing, I grab my phone off the counter and reread the message he sent me this morning for the thousandth time.

Ry: