“You don’t want to end things with me,” he says, sounding slightly amused. Or at least, I’m sure that’s his tone. “Gracie, it was already decided last night that all of us would work this out. Together, sweetheart.”
“I’m not a guy,” I interrupt him, my voice heated as I depend on myself. “There isn’t like—"
He snorts. “We’re allowed to go after what our hearts want. Nobody will hold this against you; if they do, they aren’t meant to be part of your life. The people who really love you will accept you as you.”
I stare at him. He isn’t wrong. My brother-in-law's sister is gay and has a wife, and nobody has ever held that against her. I’m pretty sure one of my brother’s triplets is also gay, which isn’t an issue. But it proves we can go after what we want. But being gay and having a relationship of three or four or however many people at a time- is completely different. Not to mention that just because Colton accepts this and encourages it doesn’t mean the others will be. Devon - he seems to be more open-minded. Owen? He’s with Donna. Shit, he’s with Donna. I can’t think of him joining us, and even if I dare to, there’s no guarantee it’ll ever happen. Even if they break up. I know he still hasn’t forgiven me for the way I took off the last time, and I don’t blame him one bit. Especially after the whole text thing. With our history, it isn’t surprising he’s refusing to believe anything I have to say about it.
“I’m not mad,” he assures me, taking my hand in his before lifting it and pressing his lips to it. “I promise, all right?”
I nod with a small smile. I’m still shaken up inside and can feel it too. Colton squeezes my hand and pecks my lips before laying back down and releasing my hand. Colton stretches his arms above him, closing his eyes. I watch him for a moment, my eyes straying to the hem of his shirt as it slips up his abdomen just a little to reveal the flesh beneath.
How did I land him?
When I left rehab, I believed that I would never get Devon or Owen back. I also knew I would never get a good guy for a long time either. That or I would die a crazy cat lady. I had accepted that upon leaving rehab. I was okay with that. But now, I have Colton and Devon. Everything would be perfect if I could just have Owen too, but I know that is asking a little too much at once.
I run my fingers along Colton’s exposed flesh and bite my lip to suppress the giggle when he shivers beneath my touch.
Withdrawing my fingers, I hesitate before laying my head next to his. I don’t get this whole thing, but it’s a lot better than being stuck in a place where I’m about to crack, that’s for damn sure. The sky is pale blue above us, with puffy white clouds dotting it and drifting lazily in every other direction. They’re no threat and probably will evaporate sooner or later. I close my eyes, let the sun graze my cheeks, and breathe out slowly, calming myself down.
I don’t want to drink. That’s the last thing I want.
His fingers brush against mine before curling around them. My fingers flex, a reflex against his touch, and wrap around his. He squeezes gently, and I turn my head. He’s already looking at me, waiting. His lips are inches from mine, and I want to kiss them. They are full, parted slightly as if waiting for me to kiss them. Or him to kiss me. Neither of us moves through.
“What do you want to do?” he suddenly asks, taking me by surprise.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Like in life. What do you want to do? What do you want to be?”
I stare at Colton. Something about the way I’m looking at him makes him bite his lip, looking at me apologetically.
“Was that a wrong question?” he asks and twists his hands, intertwining his fingers through mine again.
I shake my head, smushing grass blades beneath my head, and turn my eyes back to the sky. I squint my eyes against the sun's brightness, biding my time before answering. I’m not sure how to explain it. The words don’t seem to want to come. I have to figure out how to say what I need to, though.
“It wasn’t wrong,” I finally say, drawing the words out. “I just - I really don’t know what I want to do. I’m taking classes, but that’s about it.”
“Classes? What kind of classes?”
I shake my head and pinch the bridge of my nose with my free hand. “Basic classes for now. I don’t have a real major in mind.”
“What about outside of school?”
I turn back to Colton, biting my tongue before I sit up. I don’t let go of his hand, and the way he grips mine tells me he isn’t about to let go either. After a moment, he follows my lead and also stands.
“This.” I raise our folded hands. “I don’t have a whole lot going on. Daddy says I have to focus on my sobriety and schooling.” I wrinkle my nose. “I just don’t think college is the right thing for me.”
“So, tell him,” he urges. “Just talk to him.”
I shake my head and look down at my lap. “I can’t. I really messed up with my parents when getting high and drunk. I hurt both of them really badly, and they still want to take care of me. I can’t just quit.”
Colton is silent for a moment. “I think your dad would be okay if you were just honest with him, Gracie. Isn’t lying one of the ways you hurt them?”
I grimace. He’s not wrong. I had to lie when I was getting high and drunk. Lying had always been one of the worst parts because even a little white lie grew bigger each time it had to be told and explained.
He’s right. I have to tell them. I have to be honest with them.
“Will you go with me?” I ask in a soft voice.