Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
Logan
“Someone is going to crash and die, I swear.”
I say it mostly to myself, but Salem snorts beside me as she lifts her camera, lens trained on the trio of maniacs revving a dirt bike at the bottom of the ramp.
That’s right: One dirt bike, three guys.
Taylor’s in front, hands on the throttle.
Christian is in the middle with his arms around Tay’s waist and Devon is crouched behind him like he’s auditioning for Jackass.
All three of them wear Pride flags as capes, their helmets covered in dozens of rainbow stickers.
This had been Salem’s solution to that jerk-off homophobe yesterday.
“This is such a bad idea,” I mutter, dragging a hand down my face. “Seriously, someone is going to get hurt.”
Arya giggles, reaching around Salem to nudge my arm. “Oh, ye of little faith, Logster.”
“They’ll be fine,” Huck says, though his eyes are trained on his boyfriend and his leg bounces a million miles a minute. “...I hope.”
Jesus Christ.
The engine revs loud enough to rattle the aluminum bleachers we’re sitting on, and I swear my soul momentarily leaves my body.
“Here we go,” Salem murmurs, finger hovering over the shutter button.
The bike peels out, spraying dirt in every direction. The three of them rocket toward the ramp, launching into the air at full speed.
BOOM.
Fireworks crackle across the sky, bursts of color lighting up the dark night. Cannons fire, showering the crowd with glittering rainbow confetti, catching the floodlights like stars. Taylor pulls upward on his handlebars, tilting the bike backward. They spin in mid-air once.
Twice.
Three times.
The whole stadium erupts. My stomach drops into my fucking ass as Huck and I grab onto each other for support.
They hit the ground hard, tires screeching, balance teetering for a fraction of a second before Tay corrects.
The moment they stabilize, the crowd goes wild, so loud I nearly cover my ears.
My hand instinctively goes to my chest like I’m having a heart attack.
“Nope. I’m out. I can’t watch that again. Holy shit.”
“They’ve done worse,” Salem says with an airy shrug that does nothing to calm my nerves.
The three of them skid to a stop. Taylor falls off the bike first, shoulders shaking with laughter.
Devon and Christian yank off their helmets, grinning from ear to ear as confetti rains down everywhere.
I’m about to turn to Huck when he leaps from his seat and barrels across the tarmac toward his boyfriend.
Speechless, I watch as he lifts Taylor right off the ground and kisses him without hesitation like there’s no one else in the world but them.
Then Christian turns to Devon, grabbing his hand as they exchange a few quiet words, and—
Oh, fuck me.
Then they’re kissing, too. Confetti sticks to the sweat on Devon’s face, Christian’s hands tangled in the Pride flag still draped over his shoulders. My chest does that silly thing where it tightens and loosens all at once.
The crowd is loving it. Phones are out, people are cheering, and rainbow smoke lingers in the air like magic.
I turn to Salem, heart in my throat as she captures the moment on camera, wishing for… something. I don’t even know. Maybe the freedom to be like they are? The absence of guilt to love who I want to love?
Her lashes are low, lips parted slightly in concentration. When she notices my attention, her gaze drops to my mouth, and I can see the idea cross her features. She wants to kiss me. I just know it. Fuck, I want it so damn bad.
But then she smirks, turns her head, and plants a dramatic, open-mouthed kiss on her best friend’s lips instead.
Arya squeals, clearly caught off guard, but she wraps her arms around Salem’s neck and kisses back so passionately that the crowd roars even louder.
Their tongues dance, fingers tangled in contrasting locks of hair. It’s downright sexy, and honestly, I have to subtly adjust my excited dick at the sight. Even as disappointment settles heavily in my gut.
Because I’m not the one she’s kissing. I’m not the one she chose.
And I get it, I do. The whole point of today was rebellion. Pride. Kissing your best friend on a ramp in Ohio to piss off every homophobe in the tri-state area. But God, watching her press her mouth to someone else’s while my body still craves hers?
It stings. Maybe it wouldn’t if she’d just love me, too, but she doesn’t.
So, I clap along with the crowd, a smile stitched onto my face like I’m not threatening to split apart at the seams. The ring on my finger suddenly weighs a ton.
Because I love her, and I’d never ask her to dim her fire just to keep me from burning.
Even if I’m halfway to ash, already.