Welp, there goes my self-restraint. It was already hanging on by a thread. I’m straining against my pants again. I covertly adjust myself as we step up to the ticket booth, and Whit pays for both of our admissions. I argue, saying I’ll Venmo him the money, but he scowls at me.
“I have more money than I know what to do with. It’s my treat.”
“Does this make me your sugar baby then? Should I call you daddy?”
Whit rolls his eyes and then slaps a ticket into my palm. I let my fingers slide against his as I take it from him, and he huffs.
We walk into the park side by side, catching up with Sem, Luke, Mal, and Bree, all conversing in the lobby.
“Alright, they made it,” Sem says and slaps me on the back before fist-bumping Whit. “Where to, Mal?”
Mal lights up like a child on Christmas, and I chuckle at how excited he is. He’s been wanting to come here for ages. Weirdo.
We make our way through a few exhibits, stopping to look at the colorful sea life. I keep my hands to myself, not wanting to make Whit uncomfortable. But damn, I want to hold his hand but can’t because he keeps them out of reach.
It bugs me, wondering why.
It’s me, I think. Totally me. He’s embarrassed. He just likes me when we are alone. He doesn’t want to admit he’s with this redneck asshole.
“Why the scowl,” Bree asks, her pretty, blue eyes meeting mine.
“Uh,” I mutter, looking forward at Whit’s back. He’s staring up at a swarm of jellyfish. His body is illuminated by a soft blue glow. “Nothing.”
Bree pokes me in the side. “I don’t think it’s nothing. You keep scowling and peering over at Whit.”
I groan and then run a hand down my face, and it all comes blurting out. “I want to hold his hand, but he’s keeping them away from me. Like he doesn’t want to be seen with me. You know? I think he’s embarrassed by me.”
Bree’s eyebrows meet. “Really? He keeps looking over at you. I think he’s trying not to pressure you into anything.”
“Really?” I ask.
“He probably doesn’t want you to feel pressured into coming out.”
I snort. “Too late for that.”
“Yes, but that was with your family. What about the world.” She gestures to the people standing around, and realization dawns. Bree’s explanation makes more sense than mine.
Whit’s not trying to pressure me. He’s being considerate.
This guy, seriously.
My mind made up, I thank Bree and stalk over to Whit, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him into me. Resting my head on his shoulder, I kiss his neck.
He stiffens in my hold, and for a second, just a moment, I wonder if Bree was wrong, but then he relaxes into me and places his hands over mine.
“I want to hold your hand,” I tell him softly.
Whit glances over at me, his dark eyes flashing. “You can. If you want.”
He looks unsure, but I just press another kiss to his neck and then move to his side and hold out my hand, palm up.
He looks down at it and threads those long fingers I’m obsessed with through mine.
We stand there looking at the jellyfish moving around us, and I wonder what everyone around us thinks. Two men holding hands in a public place. A place with families and children running around. But when I look around, no one’s paying us any attention.
Huh.
No one gives a shit.