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“No — not that…”
Hugo leans in. “I had a suspicion Lucas was gay from the moment I met him.”
I drop my jaw. “What? How?”
He shrugs, a smile playing on his lips. “I like to think I have an advanced gaydar.”
I blink at him. Wait. Does that mean Hugo likes boys too?
“Anyway,” he continues, “the only thing I can’t believe is the fact I didn’t realise Lucas had a thing for you the entire time. I feel so oblivious.”
“Welcome to my world,” I say.
“At least you have him now,” Hugo points out. “And even though he can be a bit blunt, I know he’ll treat you well. Way better than your ex.”
“We’re not together,” I say.
Hugo lowers his mug. “Oh. Sorry, I thought…”
“We haven’t talked about it,” I say. Yes, we’re going to sleep together at the end of exam season. But that’s different from dating. The thought makes me frown.
“You should,” Hugo says gently. “You can’t lead him on.”
“I know,” I say. “I don’t want to. I…” I want to keep doing stuff with him. I want to grocery shop while our hands brush, and I want to take care of him while he’s sick, and I want all of his soft expressions for myself, and maybe it’s selfish for me to admit that, but it’s true.
“I’m scared,” I finish. “What if things end badly? What if Lucas realises I’m not as special as he thought I was? What if he’s just constructed some fantasy of me in his mind?”
“You’ve lived together all year,” Hugo replies. “You’ve gone through fights and dramas. He’s seen all sides of you, Charlie.”
“I’m still terrified,” I admit. “I’ve known him since I was six. What if we break up and hate each other? I’ll never forgive myself for losing him like that.”
Hugo takes a moment to consider that. Slowly, he carves his spoon into his slice.
“What?” I ask when I can tell he’s holding back.
He gives me a small, slightly sad smile. “It’s ultimately your decision. All I can say is that you’re extremely lucky to have someone who loves you the way he does.”
*
I mull over Hugo’s words for the rest of the day. He’s right. I am lucky. And the thought of someone snatching Lucas away because I was too much of a coward panics me.
That evening, as we eat pesto pasta at the kitchen bench, I bring up the topic.
“Are we dating?” I might as well be blunt.
Lucas swallows his mouthful. “If you like me.” He continues eating.
“Of course, I like you.”
“Yeah, but do you like-like me?” He raises his brows, and I chuckle.
“Yeah. I do.”
Lucas looks at me and his shoulders relax, and I realise just how tense he was beneath his nonchalant expression. “Really?”
“How could someone not? You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”
He frowns and turns back to his bowl.
