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I head inside to give myself a break from Nigel’s presence and turn around, surprised, when I hear the door open behind me. Sam closes it gently after him, smiling at me loosely.
“Can I help with anything?” He asks.
I look toward the backyard, where Troy and Nigel are throwing a football while Lawson chats with them. Every time Nigel’s arm arcs in an overhand throw, his shirt rides up and one side of the v in his abdomen is visible.Fuck my life.“Sure, if you want.”
Sam joins me in the kitchen, silently helping me prep some vegetables to bring out to Lawson to grill. It hits me, suddenly, that before he met Troy Sam had only been with women. I look at him sideways, wondering if there is a way I can broach this subject without being too obvious about what I’m really asking. I don’t know him as well as I do Lawson and Troy, but I trust him.
After a quick peek toward the backyard to make sure the others are still occupied, I clear my throat. “Can I ask you a question?”
He looks over at me, nodding. “Of course.”
“Like, a personal question.” I clarify.
His expression doesn’t change, and he nods again. “You can ask me anything.”
“Thanks.” I inhale deeply, squinting down at the pan of vegetable kabobs we’re putting together and try to sort out my words. “I was just wondering…when you met Troy you hadn’t ever, uh, been with someone like that before, right?”
Kill me now. Sam, to his credit, doesn’t laugh or look overtly shocked. He finishes what he’s doing, and then leans a hip against the counter, looking at me. I force myself to meet his eyes.
“A man, you mean? No, no one before him.” He smiles, softly, probably thinking about Troy. He waits, not asking the obvious question back to me, allowing me to either continue or abort.
“And was it…” I close my eyes for a moment, because even though we’re friends this really might betoopersonal of a question. “Was it okay, for you?”
Again, his expression doesn’t change other than a slight tilting of his head as though he’s considering his answer. “Everything with Troy came pretty easily, but that might have had more to do with him than me. Actually, the hardest thing for me to wrap my head around was justkissinghim. I was so nervous about that but then…I don’t know, everything just clicked into place after that.”
I nod, because I remember exactly the panicked expression on Troy’s face as he burst into my backyard to tell me Sam had kissed him.
Sam’s kind brown eyes search mine before he continues, pitching his voice lower just in case someone chooses to come inside. “I think, if you’re considering something…new, or if you’re interested in someone you wouldn’t usually be interested in…all that matters is that you’re comfortable.”
I really shouldn’t have started this conversation. Unless I’m going to admit I’m gay and interested in someone currently standing in my backyard, how can I expect him to give me advice? I start to turn away from Sam, stomach churning, when he rests a warm hand on my forearm. I look back at him.
“You’re always the one taking care of us, and dealing with our problems. So, if there’s something—anything—that you need to get off your chest, you can talk to me.”
Tell him. I open my mouth, heart trying to pound its way through my ribcage, and can literally taste the words on my tongue. It would be so easy, with all my people right here, to finally get it off my chest. No more fucking hiding. “I—”
The back door slides open, catching our attention and we turn our heads to find Lawson peeking his head inside. “You got anything else you want to throw on here, Cor?”
“Oh, yeah. Here.” Flustered, I step away from the counter and bring the tray over to him. Before I follow him back outside, I look over my shoulder and find Sam watching me. “Thanks. For talking to me.”
“Anytime.” He places a friendly hand on my shoulder before stepping around me, about to make his way over to Troy. “Want to keep that between us for now?”
Relief floods through me, dizzyingly. He’s not an idiot, and reading between the lines of our conversation I’d say it’s pretty obvious what I was insinuating. “Yeah, thanks.”
Nodding, he heads over toward Troy, who tosses him the football. When we sit down to eat a short time later, Nigel pulls a chair up next to mine and I can feel the press of his leg against my thigh beneath the table. This close, I can pick out the individual scents of citrus and vanilla in his aftershave; I want to bury my nose in his neck.
I content myself with nudging my leg closer to his, pressing our knees together. I try to silently communicate that I want him to stay after the others go home.It’s time to be brave.
Nigel
Sam and I are chatting about Boston, where I played for a handful of years, when a flash of purple catches my attention. I wonder if that kid knew what he was doing when he picked out a shirt that color for Corwin—the lavender makes the vivid blue of his eyes brighter, and his hair an even richer shade of mahogany. He didn’t shave this morning, like he usually does, and there is a coating of stubble across his jaw that I long to scratch my lips against.
Lawson is the first to leave, before the sun has even started to go down, which incites some ribbing from Corwin and Troy. Eventually, Sam stands and stretches his arms above his head, catching Troy’s attention. They share a look that is so intimate, I turn my face away to give them privacy. Of course, my gaze immediately lands on Corwin who’s crouched down by the fire pit.
“I think we’re going to head out too, Cor.” Troy says, laying a hand on his friend’s back. Corwin stands, eyes catching mine in the waning light.
“I think I might stick around for a bit, if you don’t mind the company.”
A soft smile flashes across his face; he knew I’d be wanting to stay, and was hoping for it judging by his expression. I watch him as he walks Troy and Sam to the door, disappearing into the dark of the house. Standing, I finish lighting the campfire and then drag one of the patio chairs closer to my own. Just when I’m sitting back down, Corwin appears, carrying a large plate.
