Chapter 2 #3
I sit beside him on the board, but I’m smart enough to keep a good bit of space between us, just in case. Not that I’m feral enough to pounce, but I’m guessing this guy is looking to win favor with Artie, and cozying up to me in any fashion won’t help matters.
“So, what’s up?”
Looking at me sidelong, Connor says, “My stuff in the bathroom...”
“Oh,” I chuckle. “My bad. I assumed Thalia was moving in some lame ass jabroni, and I thought it would be funny to mess with you a little.”
“Going forward, can you leave my shit alone?”
His earnest attempt at diplomacy tickles that fuzziness in me, and I can’t help but grin. “I’ll give it the old college try.”
“Thank you.”
“Did you tell my sister about the beach?”
A silent moment soon delivers the word, “No.”
“Why not? It’s kind of a funny story, don’t you think? Me hitting on my big sister’s boyfriend?”
“Hilarious. I dunno. It wouldn’t feel right, I guess. Especially after what happened at dinner… Not that I think she’s homophobic or anything, but if I told her about the beach, I’d basically be outing you, which I’m pretty sure isn’t a super cool thing to do.”
Fuck, this dude blows Eagle Scout Connor out of the water. Normally, I find forced allyship annoying, but something about Connor oozes sincerity. It’s so adorable I want to hug the life out of him.
“What?” he asks when I giggle.
“Nothing.” I fold my lips, and I’m glad that it’s too dark out here for Connor to see how pink my face is because of him.
Why does he have to be Thalia’s boyfriend? I can work around the straight thing, but the incestuous shit is a little harder to overcome. I have no choice but to stand down, but standing down isn’t what my dick is best at.
“I’m sorry,” Connor whispers, leaning toward me enough I can smell his coconut hair goop—the shit he’d left in my medicine cabinet.
“For what?”
“For dinner. What your dad said.”
I scoff, thinking back to the whole exchange and deciding it’s more comical than anything else. After all, I don’t actually give a shit what Artie thinks. Or, I shouldn’t.
“Don’t worry about that. I was joking anyway. I’ve found that fucking with my dad using the truth is just as effective as fucking with him using a lie. If half the time I’m fucking with him I’m actually telling the truth, lying to him is that much easier.”
“It also means he’ll never believe you when you wanna tell him the truth.”
“That’s fine by me. The less Artie knows about me, the better.”
“Because he’ll disown you?”
“I’m pretty sure he wrote me out of the will a long time ago. I just need to keep my head down low enough until I finish school on his dime, then I’m outta here.”
“Well, if you ever need someone to talk to… I’ve got friends who’re gay, so I get it.”
“Oh yeah? You’ve got gay friends? You ever fantasize about following them into a shower to find out what their dicks look like?”
One white-blond eyebrow shoots up to wrinkle his forehead. “No, of course not.”
“Then you don’t really get it, do you?”
“I guess not.”
Studying the contours of Connor’s smooth face, I think about that championship match and all those Insta reels of him training.
I think about the photos he posted on his photography account too.
I’ll never get being straight, because it’s hard for me to believe Connor could take those pics and not imagine what it might taste like to run his tongue along his teammates’ abs.
Hooking up with teammates is a risk I’ve steered clear of, but the mind wanders where it will. And it wanders a lot.
“Found your Instagram,” I tell him. “Both of them. Gotta say, you really like photographing half-naked men. You sure you’re straight?”
“I’m not gay,” he insists, but he smiles in a way that makes me wonder if those fair cheeks are blushing.
“Prove it.”
“How am I supposed to prove it?”
“Tell you what…” I drop my tone and lean in. “We both take our dicks out and start rubbing. Anyone who gets hard is gay.”
He snorts. “That’s not gonna happen. And you gotta stop hitting on me, man. Even if I did swing that way, I’m with your sister, and we live together now. I don’t want things to be weird between us. It’d be cool if we can be friends.”
Call me petty, but Connor’s plea for friendship makes me want the opposite. I have enough straight friends I can’t fuck. I don’t need another. Especially one who’s going to shill for my sister, pander to my father, and snitch me out when his sensibilities allow it.
Leading with my emotions, I slap my knees and declare, “Nah, I’m good.”
“What?”
I hop up and treat Connor’s bewildered expression with folded arms. “I don’t wanna be friends. Stay out of my way and out of my shit. And if you ever start running your mouth about me, I’ll end you. Understand?”
“Dude—”
“And can I give you some advice? If you’re trying to get in good with my dad, never stand up for me again. I’ve handled myself just fine without you injecting your little Eagle Scout bullshit into the mix.”
“I was never an Eagle Scout.”
“Whatever, Connor.” I turn with the rolling of my eyes and march back to the sliding doors, as pissed as I am enchanted by this blue-eyed interloper whose dentist-approved toothbrush is littering my bathroom counter.
Why does he have to be so goddamn adorable?