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He quirks a dark brow. “How did you hear about that?”
“Everyone heard about that.”
“Yeah, well, that’s old news.” He looks away, eyes downcast.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” I sympathize because he obviously liked him. I can tell.
He shrugs, dipping a fry in ketchup before popping it into his mouth. “You win some, you lose some.”
“You don’t need to do that with me, you know.”
“Do what?”
“Playoff your feelings like they don’t matter.”
“I can’t force someone to accept and embrace who they are, Lexy.”
“True, but it hurts just the same.”
He runs a hand through his thick black hair. “I’ve been rejected all my life, Lexy. It’s nothing new to me. I’m bisexual, and I’m not ashamed to say it. I don’t give two fucks who knows. I refuse to hide in the shadows and become a secret no matter how much I like the person.”
My heart breaks for him. No one should ever be made to feel that way.
“The right person will come along eventually.”
“And hopefully, that person won’t be the kid of a politician.”
“Huh?”
“His dad’s some politician that plans to run for mayor next year. Apparently, maintaining the perfect family image is everything. You can’t date the chief’s daughter and have gossip going around town that you fuck guys on the side. Whatever,” he shrugs. “Like I said, it’s no skin off my nose.”
The corner of my lip tugs up sympathetically. He notices and masks the hurt behind his eyes, continuing, “Hopefully, the next guy I meet has learned the art of manscaping. Seriously, that bush should have been a red flag all on its own.”
“Colton,” I shudder, scolding him. “Can we not talk about pubes when I’m eating.”
“Sorry,” he chuckles. “Manscaping is a thing, too, you know.”
“It is, but I don’t need to hear about it when I’m eating a bowl of spaghetti.”
Colton barks out a laugh, and then it falters. “Leon’s a lot like him, you know.”
“A lot like who?”
“Saint.”
“Are you telling me Saint’s secretly bi?” I respond with a giggle.
Colton laughs with me, shaking his head. “No. I mean that he’s good at hiding things and keeping up appearances. Even when what you want is right in front of you, and all you have to do is reach out, and it’s yours.”
“Saint Garo does not keep up appearances for anyone.”
He shoots me a skeptical look.
“You’re wrong. He went ballistic that day, you know.”
“What day?”
“The day the girls cornered you in school and beat you up. Shit. I’ve seen Saint mad before, but I’ve never seen him lose it like that. Not even when someone at our school stole his brother’s bike.”
