Chapter 29
“Thank you again for doing this.”
I nod, turning the hot paper cup in my hand, then lift it in a small salute toward Mike.
“Thank you for inviting me,” I say, and he laughs, warm but also a little awkward.
“Please, it’s the least I could do. I mean, since I ambushed you right after your vacation and all. But I just thought we could talk a bit and get to know each other before we…” He clears his throat, a boyish grin blooming on his lips.
“You know,” he adds with a wink.
Oh, do I know.
My snort sounds fake to my own ears, so I quickly take a sip of my coffee.
I let my gaze wander over St. Bernard’s campus and the students lingering in the shade of the trees, to the huge buildings made of brick and sandstone towering on our sides.
I can’t think of the architectural style right now—linen-pants Colin probably knows—just that the whole setting looks magical.
This is how I picture England, only with worse weather.
“Sorry, what did you say?” I cringe when I realize Mike is looking at me expectantly with those dark teddy eyes. My stomach cramps when I meet his gaze, and I quickly take another sip of coffee. I already regret agreeing to this, but I needed something to distract myself.
The last days have been awkward, the Nook brimming with an odd tension as everyone returned from their respective holidays, trying to pick up old routines again while already mourning summer.
Nicko’s absence left an emptiness more noticeable than I had expected.
I actually miss his grumpy face as he slouched over to the coffee machine first thing in the morning, his snarky comments, and all the hockey sticks strewn across the living room.
Instead, there’s Vince now, bright and happy and loud.
A presence that can’t be ignored. A shiver runs down my back every time my gaze brushes over his rainbow tattoo, and whenever our eyes meet, his words echo in my mind: So you must be the I interrupted him right in time, but I can still feel the word linger inside the Nook.
I feel sorry for his bumpy start in our house since Linden and I are doing our best to avoid him after that embarrassing first encounter.
And Linden—I haven’t seen much of him, either, since he excused himself that night to go to bed, leaving me standing there with Vince. I hope it’s not on purpose, since he seems to be buried under extra shifts at the pound and trying to catch up on his summer classes, but it sure feels like it.
He leaves early every morning—even before I head off to the gym, then returns with a tired smile after dark.
I try to save him a plate every night, our exchanges suddenly reduced to a whispered “you didn’t have to wait up” and “I wanted to”.
It’s weird after spending those intense weeks together on the farm.
It’s even weirder after everything that happened on the day we got back. Questions keep swirling in my head.
Is this it?
Did we already tick all the boxes?
I thought we had until September?
But it never seems to be the right time to ask about it.
“I said: Have you been with another guy before?” This might be the third time Mike has to repeat himself. I bite the inside of my cheek in an attempt to prevent my mind from drifting off again. He deserves that much at least.
“Yeah,” I hum, surprised by how easily I manage to confirm it—no hiccup, no hesitation. “But not with Seb!” I feel obligated to add that piece of information, remembering Seb’s panicked reaction a few weeks ago.
God, it feels like all of that happened in another life.
I wish I could have talked to him before meeting up with Mike; maybe I could have shared a bit of what happened over the summer.
But he’s not responding to any of my texts, which happens from time to time when a new TV show or art project captures all of his attention and becomes his whole personality, apart from football.
“Not? Oh. I always assumed, ’cause…” Mike trails off.
“...because of the threesomes? Yeah, we noticed that…uh…got a little out of hand.” I rub the back of my neck while letting out a soft laugh.
“But no, we never…I mean, it was only ever about the girls. They’re mostly interested in Seb anyway.
I’m just the”—I wave my hand in search of the right word, then decide on—“accessory.”
“A very pretty accessory,” Mike clarifies cheekily, and I snort at the compliment.
“You’re a charmer,” I point out, but my stomach is in knots. This feels so wrong, like I’m about to cheat on Linden, which is entirely stupid! Everything we did together was meant to lead to this point.
The echo in my head intensifies: So you must be the—
The boyfriend. Like I could have a boyfriend! I have no idea where I’ll be in a few months. I could be anywhere: from some NFL team at the other end of the country to a dingy apartment struggling to make ends meet.
My heartbeat picks up at that thought, my hands sweating, so I try to wipe them on my shorts discreetly.
Mike shrugs. “Is it working?” he wants to know, causing me to hide my smile behind my coffee cup.
He’s a nice guy, a real-life teddy bear with his huge eyes and brown curls.
I just can’t imagine kissing him or folding him in half as I did with Linden against the side of his car and in his bed.
The thought of Mike undressing me sends a cold shiver down my spine. I instinctively scoot back a step.
I settle on a soft “maybe”. I don’t want to disappoint him, even when my head screams no.
“I should’ve known. It wasn’t like Davenport. That’s why I didn’t suggest him to Mia. His family’s kinda…intense.” Mike picks our conversation back up.
“Yeah? You know them?” My fingers trace the rim of my cup.
“A bit. My dad coached one of his brothers, Roman, during his time in New York.”
Right, his dad. I’m such an idiot—Coach Ted Whitaker was the only reason I agreed to this, and now I've forgotten all about my goal. Suddenly, I’m not even sure I want to be on that man’s radar. I know nothing about him.
What if he’s a total asshole?
“Does your dad know that you’re…?” I trail off because I’m not sure how Mike identifies.
“Bi?” he fills in, then shrugs. “No. I’m not even sure myself yet.
But I’ve always been interested in guys.
Like, I can’t help looking at them and stuff?
They’re on my mind just as much as girls are.
I figured that, sooner or later, there’d come a chance to act on it, but it feels like I’m running out of time here, and once the draft comes around… you know.”
I nod along because I do know. It’s exactly what I talked about with Mia—time running through our fingers like sand. There’s a twinge in my chest when I think back to the Woodrow farm and how it seemed to work differently at that place. The days were slower, filled with work and laughter.
And Linden.
My heartbeat doubles when I think of the upcoming season and how fast the weeks will go by, a cold sweat breaking out on my skin.
I have seven months left until the Combine.
Nine until the draft.
I need to ask about his dad again, but my mouth goes in a completely different direction.
“So you haven’t had any experience with other guys yet?” I press on, and he shakes his head, a soft blush coloring his round cheeks. He still carries a bit of baby fat in them, and I want to reach out to pinch them.
“No, none. Just girls. I mean, I totally hit it off with a guy on Grindr last fall, then he suddenly ghosted me and…I’m just glad you know what you’re doing.
But I don’t”—he glances around before taking a deep breath—“I don’t know how much…
I mean, if we hit it off, that’s awesome, but I don’t plan on anything big, you know?
I just want to see what it’s like to…touch and maybe kiss…
another guy? If you’d be okay with that? ”
He says those words so carefully, so softly, I have to clear my throat several times to find my voice again.
Oh God, I can’t do this. I can’t be that guy. The thought of handing myself over to him, allowing him to do all these things—I just can’t.
And yet, like in a complete out-of-body experience, I hear myself laugh. “Yeah, that’s no problem. Let’s take it easy. I’ll be all yours to experiment on for that night.”
I give him a thin-lipped smile together with that promise.
In the end, I’ve done all of that and more—and I feel totally ridiculous for it now.
Of course Mike doesn’t expect much from his first time with another man, especially not a pornstar-esque performance.
There was no need to extensively practice my blowjob skills or take Linden’s virginity!
As Sasha told me, I should have been honest with Mike about my situation.
But I knew that before.
However, being so openly confronted with the needlessness of our actions makes it much harder to explain them to myself.
I didn’t have to reenact a whole romance book with Linden—but I wanted to.
And I’m not sure I can stop wanting it now.