Page 93 of Bromosexual


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“Hmm?” grunts Stefan, his voice deep and rumbling in his chest. “Prevented what?”

“Rudy came to my office last week. Sent there by his teacher. He was overloaded, I think. Failed a test. His teacher worried about him. I … I really should have said something to you.”

The guilt has been eating me alive ever since Dana poked her head in my office and dropped that Rudy’s-in-the-hospital bomb on me. I feel like I failed my job. My mind has been tumbling endlessly through a plethora of all the worst things that could’ve happened to Rudy—other things, horrible and tragic things. Stefan would never have forgiven me. I would never have forgiven myself.

“It’s okay,” Stefan assures me. “I’m glad Rudy had someone to confide in since I wasn’t there for him. And I’m especially glad it was you. I can’t think of a better person.”

“I can think of hundreds,” I mumble miserably.

He pulls me off of his body and forces my gaze up to meet his. “This isn’t your fault, Ryan.”

He smells so clean, too. I could hold him for days and just breathe him in—every single inhale, Stefan, Stefan, Stefan.

“My dad knows the pressure he put on him,” Stefan tells me. “I even talked to Rudy earlier when he was up. Rudy … isn’t even all that into baseball. Not now that he’s had a taste of high school. He wants to try other things. He’s … really, really into woodwork suddenly, in fact. He’s taking shop class. Maybe he’ll be into art next year. Or join the soccer team. Or the debate team. Maybe he’ll enroll in a college for video game design later on. Who knows?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I tease back, relieved to hear the lightness returned to Stefan’s words, relieved to see him looking at me the way he is right now, the fond way he used to.

He pulls me against him again, smirking. When our hips meet, he gives me a tiny hump. “I’m really into woodwork, myself.”

“Seems you got a bit of it in your pants,” I note.

“Some things never change.”

“I thought I lost you again, Stefan.”

His blue eyes harden, and his face straightens right up. Then he seems to reach mercilessly right into my gut when he replies, “You’re a fool if you thought that, Caulfield. Whether you want to be or not, you’re my bromo for life.”

My heart swells. Suddenly, anything in the world can happen right now, and I wouldn’t even flinch. With Stefan Baker in my life, I am invincible.

30

RYAN

TWO MONTHS LATER

The air outside is just cold enough to indicate a kiss of winter as it blows its way in, which is pretty typical of southern Texas in December. I hope we at least get some jacket weather in time for Christmas, which will be here before we know it.

Just after I gather up my things and lock up my office for the fall semester, I run into Dana in the hall on my way out. “Have a great winter break!” she sings cheerily at me. “Don’t forget about my New Year’s party! You and Stefan are both invited.”

“Thanks, Dana. I’m pretty sure we’ll be there. Stefan’s kinda curious to meet this new guy you’re dating, too.”

“I may need to break him in a bit more before we decide if it’s a serious thing,” she confesses. “He is a bit … vanilla ice cream with nothing on top … when it comes to the bedroom. Oh, you should have seen the look on his face when I introduced him to my particular brand of …” She scrunches up her face. “Sorry. That’s an overshare, I know. But let’s just say it involved my knee-high black leather hooker boots and a cat o’ nine tails. He’ll warm up to it.”

I snort. “Poor guy. He’s so lucky. And also incredibly brave.”

“Brave,” she agrees. “Anyone who dares to date me is brave. Ugh, if only all of us could have what you and Stefan have.” She gives my cheek a sudden pinch. “Thanks for being my friend and not being scared off by my intensity.”

“A pinch on the cheek? What am I, your grandson?” I pull her in for a hug, dressing myself unintentionally in her perfume while she laughs. “And likewise. Thanks for being a friend. Keep in touch and I’ll be sure to see you New Year’s Eve … plus or minus your totally lucky guy.”

“Brave,” she corrects me with half a laugh, then waves at me with her long-nailed fingers as I make my way for the door.

The drive home is quick, and I’m feeling fifty pounds lighter. Today was a great one. I was told by the principal himself (in a rather random, unexpected drop-by) that my performance this fall was really impressive, that I kept up with all of my work, and that the students and other staff are responding positively to me. I sat there for a solid ten minutes after he left wondering when the hell (and why the hell) anyone would have taken the time to note positive things about me.

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