I’m halfway through a sigh of relief as Rick stands and walks away, but then Boomer’s eyes casually drop to Rick’s ass before glancing up at me. The man’s jaw flexes.
Yeah, I saw that, motherfucker.
He drops his eyes, his fingers toying with a bundle of wrapped silverware.
“You okay?” Dad asks, diverting my attention.
“What?”
“You growled.”
I huff a laugh. “Just starving.”
Dad nods, accepting yet another lie, and when our food is delivered, I choke down the bacon and eggs because I don’t need more questions. I need answers, but one I had prior to watching Boomer assess Rick is answered. Rick was right. Boomer does seem to be into guys despite the fact that I haven’t seen him with a man or woman since coming home for the summer.
In an effort to divert my attention away from the man that insists on living in my head, I look back to Boomer. His eyes are on me, and I see what can only be described as shame in his eyes. A sliver of my own shame bubbles to the surface. It’s clear the man isn’t proud of who he truly is, and I’m over here getting pissed about it. It’s like he’s able to dig into the deepest parts of me, able to read the secret I can’t seem to come to terms with. Those admissions are harder than someone who isn’t struggling with it can ever imagine.
“You wanted to talk?”
Rick looks up from his phone before setting it aside.
“Yeah. I—umm…”
“You can tell me anything.” I do my best to keep a grin off my face.
He doesn’t know it, but I saw Bonnie approach him today. We may only be thirteen, but I’ve been around a lot of females already in my life. I know what attraction looks like. I also know a guy’s response when they pop wood out of nowhere.
I was going to make fun of him for it, give him a hard time, but he seems pretty torn up about it. The joke would’ve fallen flat, so my plans have changed.
We’ve had conversations about dicks in the past, and although he never admitted it, I knew he wasn’t to the point that he was experiencing the same things I already was. Clearly, that changed today.
“Talk to me, Rick,” I urge, taking a seat beside him.
He doesn’t move away, but I can tell by the stiffening of his body that he wants to. It makes my heart ache a little. He’s never wanted to distance himself from me before.
“Bonnie touched my leg today.”
My grin is wide. “I saw.”
“I hated it.”
“Man, that’s great—what?” I wasn’t expecting that confession.
“I hated it,” he repeats. “When she touched me. I didn’t want it.”
“You don’t find her attractive?”
Bonnie Castlebrook is smoking hot, but to each his own, I guess.
He shakes his head, eyes locked on his tangled fingers.
“Is it the braces? Those won’t last forever. It’s kind of shallow for you—”
“Because she’s a girl.” He looks up, sad eyes locking with mine.
“Every guy hits puberty at different—oh. Oh!”
He moves to climb off the bed, and I grip his arm to prevent it from happening.
“So you’re—”
“Gay,” he spits as if admitting it comes as both a relief and a curse.
“You’re gay,” I clarify.
“And now you’re going to hate me.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I shout, jumping up from the bed and gripping handfuls of my own hair.
He shakes his head, tears welling on his bottom lashes.
“Forget I said anything,” he mutters, his voice weak.
I hate the sound of it.
“No fucking way.”
“I didn’t think you’d be so angry.”
“Angry? I’m not angry.”
“So jumping up from the bed and screaming is you overcome with joy?” The sarcasm in his tone makes me smile.
“How long have we been friends?”
“Forever,” he mutters.
“I was angry because it’s fucked up that you’d think I’d hate you for any reason. Being gay is no big deal.”
He scoffs, a self-depreciating sound that I hate coming from my best friend.
I don’t know how to make this easier for him. I have a million questions, but now doesn’t seem the time for them. I try a different route.
“So, you like boys? Tell me which guys you think are hot.”
He shakes his head but there’s a tiny smile playing on his lips.
“Do you think I’m hot?”
He chuckles.
“Seriously. Do you?” I flex, giving him my best smile, the very same one that makes the girls in class all want to be my lab partner in science.
He shakes his head, not exactly impressed with my antics.
“You don’t?” I flex again before pulling up my shirt and running my hands down my skinny stomach.
“No, dickhead. You’re like a brother to me.”
I drop my shirt, wondering why his words make me a little sad.
Boomer says something to one of the other guys, and I have to wonder if he’s just as afraid as Rick was that day, worried that his friends won’t accept him. I want to go to him, tell him that it’s okay to let people know who he is, but that would make me a hypocrite. It’s not like I’m standing up and telling everyone that there’s a very real chance that I’m attracted to the man that used to be my best friend, confess that all our troubles that started that night weren’t because Rick had the audacity to kiss me. It’s because I liked it too much when he did.