Chance
Holy shit. Good thing I’m kneeling or I might have passed the hell out. Noah is bisexual?
Which means . . .
Shit, my head won’t even process what this means right now. I mean, I know deep down it has nothing to do with me . . . Just because he’s also into men doesn’t mean he’s into me. I know that.
But maybe he could be.
I swear I’ve felt this electric zing from him since day one, long before we decided to be friends earlier this week.
But now, it’s starting to make more sense. Him throwing up before games—and yes, I know he did today too but didn’t call him on it. His scared stance out on the field.
“Thank you for telling me.” I wanted to say so many things, but that’s what my brain apparently landed on.
Although, maybe it wasn’t such a stupid choice by the way his eyes light up at my words. He’s still frowning. Still looks a little pale and shaky.
But his eyes look lighter.
“I . . .” I don’t like how uncertain he sounds. That’s not like him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when—”
I stop him with a quick shake of my head. “You don’t owe me or anyone else anything. Do you hear me?”
He doesn’t answer or even move his head in response.
“Noah,” I say his name firmly and make sure his eyes are locked on mine. “You decide when, who, and if you tell anyone about your sexuality. Or give any other piece of yourself. That’s up to you.”
His tongue darts out, licking his lips, and he takes a shaky breath. “You let me in on this huge secret, but I was a coward. I kept this in.”
“For a few days,” I remind him with a coy look that turns quickly into a grin. “But just because I told you something doesn’t mean you had to. There are no rules.”
“I was afraid.” He says it so quietly, like he doesn’t want to admit he has fears like a mere mortal. And that, quite frankly, makes a lot of sense coming from him. This town puts him on a pedestal.
But their standards are just that. Theirs. It’s not fair to put it all on his very broad shoulders.
“Noah . . .” I love the sound of his name coming from my mouth. I want to say it over and over again. His eyes are locked on mine, intense and stormy. “You can trust me.”
He gives me a nod.
“You think they know?” I ask carefully. Because he’s terrified out on the field. I know enough about him to know that he doesn’t get scared out there normally. It’s his element.
He swallows, and I watch his Adam’s apple slide along his throat, transfixed on the motion before my eyes roam up to his lips—those full beautiful lips I find myself staring at for far too long— then back up to his eyes.
I know this is a serious talk, damn it, but give me a break.
I just found out the object of my current sexual obsession is, in fact, into men as well as women. That he might want to . . .
Nope. Focus.
Focus, Chance.
I scold myself and try to steel my gaze back into serious mode. “I don’t see how they could know, but it’s like this weight. This thing inside me that I’m terrified will get out, but then it feels like a betrayal to myself to think that way.”
I curse this stupid fucking small town in my head, but I don’t say it out loud.
He doesn’t need that right now. How many times did I wrestle with keeping my sexual identity a secret?
How many nights did I stay awake, feeling like a damn fraud for not telling my friends that although the girls they drooled over were pretty, I was more likely to just be their friends and talk about hot guys with them rather than date them?
I hid a part of myself for a long time too. Not as long as Noah has, but whether it’s a month, a year, or a decade, hiding a part of yourself is painful.
“You know you don’t owe them anything,” I say quietly.
He nods slowly. “My friend is close with several school board members and the people in this town who hold all the power. He warned me they’re looking for a reason to oust me.” He laughs humorlessly. “If they only fucking knew.”
I squeeze his left knee. “Don’t do that. Don’t act like they have a reason just because you’re attracted to men and women.”
His eyes are filled with shame and sadness, and I want to pull him into my arms, wrap him tight, and tell him it’ll be okay. But the truth is I don’t know that. It wasn’t for me. Not really.
I lost my job the second they saw that picture of me dancing with other men.
My fate was sealed.
And part of me knows they would use this against him, no matter how sick it is. No matter how wrong they are and how not wrong his bisexuality is.
“You can’t tell anyone. They can’t find out.” His voice shakes, and I feel his legs trembling. Fuck. He’s panicking.
I reach up and finally wrap my arms around him. There’s nothing sexual about the hug. I hold onto his trembling body and assure him I’ll never say a word. “It’s not my place. It’s no one’s place to tell anyone anything about you, Noah. But you don’t have to be ashamed. You can tell me anything.”
He nods, wrapping his arms around me and hugging me back so damn hard it nearly steals my breath, but if I die, I die. I’ll gladly go out this way, wrapped up in his strong embrace.
“Thank you.”
When his body and nerves seem to settle again, I release him and stand up. “What movie tonight? I think it’s your turn,” I say with a small smile, and I hope to hell he’ll accept my invitation.
Hoping he’ll understand this doesn’t have to be a big deal, even though it is. Him trusting me with this is insanely huge.
He stands up and clears his throat. “I could go for something funny, I think.”
I grin. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
We walk out together and drive to his place.
Friends, I remind myself.
No matter how much I want to find out what his lips taste like, I know I can’t do that. He trusted me with this huge secret. He’s terrified and needs a damn friend.
So a friend is what I’ll be.