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Getting to my feet, I consider this new information while my brain isn’t occupied by pain. “Why would you be talking to him about any of that if you’re straight?”
“No reason. I guess I was just curious.”
“Was that before or after you kissed me?”
RJ reaches up and scratches his head. “Ah, I don’t remember.”
“Sure you do.”
Dropping his hand, he sighs, then admits the truth. “Fine, it was before.”
“So have you been thinking about if you would be a top or bottom?”
“Definitely top,” he replies a little too fast. “No. I’m not…I mean, not that I thought about it much.”
“Right,” I say since he’s obviously lying. He’s thought about it. Which is surprising. Either way, it’s never gonna happen with him, which is why I throw us both an out. “So, we would never work, not if we’re both tops. Guess it’s a good thing we stopped at one kiss.”
“Yeah, because nothing else would ever happen.”
“Exactly.”
“Are you ready?” he asks in a huff.
“Lead the way, blondie.”
RJ doesn’t say another word on the walk to the garage through the kitchen door.
In the dark concrete room that smells like damp grass, he flips on the overhead light, revealing every little boy’s dream.
There are at least a dozen fishing poles hanging on one wall next to a fully loaded gun case. Sports equipment of all kinds – footballs, basketballs, baseball bats, and a weight bench – take up one entire side where a car would go. On the other side are several motorcycles, a four-wheeler, a beat-up dirt bike, and a few bicycles covered in cobwebs.
My ten-year-old self would’ve killed to spend an entire day playing with everything in this garage.
“You’ve got a ton of shit,” I remark.
“I have three brothers, so there’s at least two of nearly everything. Wanna go for a ride on the four-wheeler?”
“Now? In the dark? Together?”
“Yeah. It’s got headlights.” He goes over and straddles it, then cranks it up to prove his point. “Ever been on one before?”
“Nope. I never even had a bicycle as a kid.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. You were lucky to have all of this, and your brothers.”
“You must be an only child.”
“I am.”
“Then you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“You and your brothers are all tight, right?”
“Now we are. They gave me shit every day when we were kids. I was the smallest. The dumbest. The fuckup. Still am all of those things.”
“What? You’re not a fuckup. You own your own business.”
