Chapter 11 #4
“For me, it is. Simpler, anyway. I like you. I want to be with you. And for me, that means telling my dad and your mom. Are you—” Trevor broke off.
Swallowed hard. Lane could feel the tremor that went through him, just like it was his own.
“Are you worried they’ll be weirded out or mad or something? ”
He’d been terrified of that at eighteen. And at twenty-one. But now, he just worried that it had been a secret he’d kept for too long, and the length of it would easily eclipse any upset that his mom had over the secret itself.
“I was, but . . . I mean, it’s not like we were ever technically related, right?”
Trevor huffed out a breath. “Never,” he agreed. “Then what’s the issue?”
“I . . . I don’t know,” Lane admitted. “It’s just been so long—”
“Since the beginning,” Trevor added.
It was hard not to be amused by that, even as Lane attempted to slog through the feelings produced by six years of confusion and silence.
“Since the beginning,” Lane agreed. “And what? I didn’t tell her then. That made sense. I don’t think I should’ve. She and Tom are so happy, I didn’t want to fuck that up. What if I had?”
“Maybe you wouldn’t have,” Trevor said gently, reaching up and cupping Lane’s cheek. “You don’t know that you would’ve.”
“But I thought it was a possibility, and being eighteen and very stupid . . . well, I was eighteen and stupid. And I ran away.”
“You went to college. You didn’t run away.”
“The summer after my freshman year? I sure as fuck ran away.”
Lane could feel Trevor freeze. “That summer you came home and you left again, almost immediately,” he stated carefully. “I thought—I don’t know what I thought, but I thought maybe it was too weird for you.”
“It was way too fucking weird for me,” Lane agreed. “I wanted you too badly. Thought I could get it under control; thought I had it under control and you were just . . .”
Trevor’s expression melted from apprehension to delight. “I was what, irresistible? Oh, that’s hot.”
“Not for me, not back then.” Lane smacked him on the back. Gently, but still. “It’s just been so long now. Too long that I’ve held my tongue, and it’s grown into something bigger than the secret. Bigger than me, almost.”
Trevor was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t want to tell you what to do.”
But Lane kinda thought he should at least express an opinion.
Sure, the secret had been Lane’s, but now it was both of theirs, together.
And how else could they ever make this work if they weren’t honest?
He knew he needed to come clean, but it wasn’t going to be simple or easy for him. Not the way Trevor wanted it to be.
“No, but it’s partially your decision, too,” Lane said. That didn’t say it all but it said enough.
Didn’t say, now that I finally have this, have you, I’m not gonna do anything to fuck it up, but maybe he didn’t need to. Maybe Trevor realized that.
“I think we should tell them while they’re here. Would go over better in person versus over the phone,” Trevor said carefully. “But that could be anytime you want. I’m okay putting that decision on you. When you feel ready to tackle it.”
“Are you sure?”
Trevor leaned back, gave Lane a very blunt look, even as his eyes were as sweet as ever, brimming with affection and an undeniable fondness. “I’m not the one who had a panic attack over telling them.”
“I . . .” Lane swallowed hard. Didn’t really want to call it that, but what else had it been? He’d never felt anxiety spike like that, before, and it did seem to fit with what he’d heard of panic attacks. “Okay.”
“You sure?”
“Don’t treat me with kid gloves now,” Lane grumbled and yanked him in, none too gently, hoping that the action would mean he wouldn’t have to explain anything more.
“Like you’ve never done that to me,” Trevor mumbled into his shoulder.
“Can’t help it,” Lane admitted.
“And neither can I,” Trevor murmured back.
It was nice to sit just like this, tangled up together, no end need in mind, just enjoying it, because now Lane could believe that Trevor wasn’t going anywhere. He wasn’t going to want to stop experimenting. He was only going to keep wanting and wanting and wanting, for real.
The third period of the game started and they shifted so Trevor could see the TV screen. “You know what this means,” Trevor said during the next commercial break, turning to Lane.
“Know what what means? The power play? I hate to break it to you, but I’m not nearly as clueless as Aidan.”
Trevor chuckled. “No, no, not the power play—though Ramsey needs to figure out their zone entries better.”
“You tell him that next time you see him,” Lane said. He’d enjoy watching that conversation go down. Trevor’s blood getting hot, and then getting to enjoy the end result of that all getting turned on to him.
“I will,” Trevor said. “But what I meant was that if you want to wait to tell them, that means we’re going to need to win this game. Means we gotta keep playing if we want them to stick around.”
Lane turned to him. God, they were in a relationship now. Trevor was his boyfriend. He might never get over that single fact. “Were you intending to lose it?”
“No, no, just . . . they’re not gonna go down easy, you know?”
“And neither are we,” Lane said, reaching out and tangling his fingers with Trevor’s, squeezing them. “Neither are we.”