Page 3

I also hate the fact that he didn't tell me until last week that he was moving out. According to Logan, he’s been thinking about it for over a year. What kind of bullshit is that?

“You should have told me sooner,” I mutter, plucking the cigarette from his lips before placing it between mine.

For a long moment, neither of us speaks as we pass the smoke back and forth. It feels like the last one we'll ever share, and my heart is doing all kinds of weird shit. I've been sharing everything with this asshole since we were kids. Lunches, beds—women. But now that he has Huck, he's leaving me behind.

“I didn't tell you,” he starts slowly, “because I wasn't sure if I'd even do it. Not until Matty's parents asked if we could fix up the place before they sell it. Now that Huck’s a free agent, it's perfect for us until we decide what to do with our lives. Come on, Christian.”

“Don’t ‘come on’ me, fucker. You had months.” Dragging a hand down my chin, I pace in front of him. “You think I’d spring this kinda shit on you?”

Tay opens his mouth, then closes it again. Guilt flashes in his turquoise eyes. “No, you wouldn't.”

“Fuckin’ right.”

“But dude, listen.” He grabs my arm, halting my steps. “Look… I'm scared shitless, okay? I've never done this before.”

“Done what?”

“Like… lived with someone, man. Romantically. I've only ever lived with you.”

Those words hit me like a kick in the nuts.

I study my best friend, still seeing the kid from the trailer park who always dragged me into trouble. We were just two dumb teenagers crashing our dirt bikes and talking about everything until the sun came up.

He’s still the same Taylor standing here in his Doc Martens and dirty moto jacket, at least to me. Maybe we aren't like, together or some shit, but I guess I…

Well, I always considered him my platonic life partner.

And I don’t know how to exist in a world where he doesn't come home at the end of the day.

Clearing my throat, I take back the half-smoked cig and inhale deeply. “Yeah, well. Hope Huck can handle your fucking cereal addiction. Swear you're keeping Lucky Charms in business.”

He just scoffs as he loads up his bike. “You gonna be okay without me? Or should I walk you through how to use a microwave?”

“Eat shit.”

Taylor laughs, and I help him secure the two-stroke into place silently. When he climbs into the truck and starts the engine, it vibrates uncomfortably in my chest. He stares straight ahead for a few seconds, letting the truck idle while he worries his bottom lip. “We're gonna be okay, right?” he asks finally, not looking at me.

I force myself to smile. “Of course we are, cariño.”

Tay glances over then, searching my face intently. “You’d tell me if we weren’t?”

“Duh, fool. You know I would.”

Liar, liar, fucking pants on fire.

“Okay.” He nods slowly, seeming more at ease. “Ten minutes away. Remember that.”

“Yeah,” I manage. “Ten minutes.”

“Birthday dinner on Sunday. Don’t forget.” With one last grin, my best friend puts the truck into gear and waves goodbye as he backs out onto the street. Leaving me alone in the cold, surrounded by dirt and the smell of engine oil.

I stand there with my hands in my pockets, long after his brake lights fade around the corner.

My mom's porch light flickers on behind me, signaling nightfall, and I look up at the purple sky with a heavy sigh. Now what the fuck am I supposed to do when I get back to the city? Eat a whole jar of pickles and jerk off again?

Shit, I've gotten boring.

Muttering to myself, I load my bike into my orange Bronco. For the first time in what feels like forever, the thought of heading to the apartment after a long day of riding settles into my gut like sour milk.