Chapter 16
Rowan
Iget to the Ugly Mug early so I can polish off a beer before anyone else arrives. Having drinks with Circus’s friends is intimidating, but since this is the second time he’s invited me, I guess I should probably show.
His request from this morning won’t stop running through my mind.
Neither will the way he looked in that apron, though that’s for other reasons. Who knew domesticity could be so hot?
I’m glad Mom and Dad weren’t in to witness it though, because they would have lost their shit about him being back there. Insurances and whatever. Plus, you know, after what happened at Leita’s, he’s not exactly their favorite person.
I’m glad he broke and came to see me, because I was one shift away from driving out to his house and apologizing again. I get the feeling he doesn’t like when I do that.
Reynolds slides my drink across the counter, and I thank him before he moves away.
I wasn’t lying when I said I’d think about the offer. The money’s a lot. And a lot would be a huge help toward doing something of my own around here.
I slide my phone out of my pocket and open the account of the influencers Circus showed me the other week.
I’m not going to lie, I like looking at them.
They’re both really hot and have their own accounts, but while Circus might not know if they’re dating or not, I’m convinced.
The way they talk about each other, so openly, is what keeps me coming back to them.
The whole mystery of him is great, but already people are asking when they’re going to see my face and whether I’m actually ugly as fuck, and I get the feeling that as fun as this is, it’s not going to last.
They want to know who I am.
And that’s terrifying.
It doesn’t stop a tiny piece of me from being curious though.
If I were to start my own account, and if I were to start showing my face and letting people in, there has to be a way to block people, right?
If I could find out the accounts of people in town, all I’d have to do is make sure they didn’t have access to see my stuff.
It’d be a lot of work, but … it’s doable. Surely.
It wouldn’t stop people without an account from finding me, but those people would have to know what they’re looking for first.
And if I did that and set up certain sponsors the way Circus has, when this whole thing ends I might still be able to keep making money that way.
At least short term.
It’s not something I could imagine sustaining my life, because I want a job that’s active. But it could complement it, right?
Holy shit. I’m actually trying to talk myself into this.
I’ve known for a while that I want more than anything to be living life as an openly gay man, but I’ve had no idea how to even make that happen without massive repercussions.
Seeing the way Circus’s followers have supported us right from the start though, posting those photos and pretending they’re real, even the accidental phone sex, has me craving that life more than ever.
And I’m starting to wonder if there’s a way for me to have it all.
An openly gay man online, maybe a male roommate, and nothing has to change as far as my family is concerned.
Too bad my head is still holding me back.
“Rowan, hey!” Tanner calls out to me from a booth he and Royce have just sat down in. I drain the rest of my beer and order another three before joining them.
“Cheers,” Royce says as I slide his over. We’ve never spoken much, but Tanner’s mom and mine used to run the church bake sales together.
“How’ve you been?” Tanner asks, and Royce snorts out a laugh.
I glance at him. “What?”
“Don’t mind Tanner. He’s just been drooling over your tattoos since you got back.”
Tanner starts to splutter and turns a dark shade of red. “Not … drooling …”
“Apparently he likes bad boys.”
Which is hilarious because Royce is the furthest thing from a bad boy I’ve ever seen. He has shiny brown hair, a baby face, and more freckles than skin. He’s also way skinnier than Tanner which makes them look like a weird pair next to each other.
“I hate to break it to you, Tanner, but I’m basically a saint.”
I slide into the booth with them, and the knot of anxiety in my gut eases up a bit.
Until a familiar, sexy laugh sounds from behind me. “‘Saint?’ Clearly I need to work on my corruption skills.”
I’m down for it, I want to say but can’t. Circus would call me on it anyway.
He slides into the spot next to me and steals a sip of my beer before placing it back in front of me.
I can’t say I hate the familiarity of the action, even if I do glance around to see who’s in here. Friday nights don’t usually get busy until later though, and no one is paying attention to our table.
It helps me to relax.
I grin at Circus, and he grins right back.
“Who else is coming?” Tanner asks. Royce is sipping his beer, looking back and forth between us.
“Leon and Dahlia.”
“No Jules tonight?”
“Nah, she’s not feeling well.”
I sort of wish Leon wasn’t feeling well so I didn’t have to face him, but I guess I need to get it done sooner or later.
But when he shows up with Dahlia, he says hey and that’s it. No teasing or ribbing or hinting at the shit he knows about me. Progress?
Circus leaves to buy a round and comes back with food as well.
And even if I don’t particularly fit in here, it’s nice to be surrounded by conversation that doesn’t have any weight to it.
Leon talks about work and his latest male hookup, and I hang on to every word.
Dahlia’s teaching at the high school we used to attend, and Royce and Tanner are in the process of finalizing the sale on their house and their plans for once they have.
And those two are so affectionate with each other, I can’t stop looking at them.
Circus leans in and his lips brush my ear. “You’re staring.”
“Can you blame me?”
When I turn so I can see his face, his expression is soft. “Is there anything wrong with them?” he whispers, tilting his head in their direction.
“Well, no, of course n—”
“Then why would there be something wrong with you?”
“It’s not …” I clear my throat and look around to make sure no one is listening in. Leon seems like he might be, and Royce is watching us, but I think he’s too far away to hear anything. “It’s just hard.”
“I know.” His hand finds mine under the table, and I suck in a sharp breath.
“No one is saying you need to jump in and throw your own pride parade. I’m only saying, baby steps.
Do little things each day that can get you to that point.
Whether it’s telling that stupid voice to fuck off—or your grandpa, but make sure I’m there for that—or, I don’t know … ”
This time I duck my mouth to his ear. “Or watch gay porn?”
He swallows. “Or that.”
“I have been, you know. I never used to be able to shut off my thoughts, but I’ve been trying. And that negative voice has been overridden with a new one.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. And the new voice sounds scarily like someone I know.”
“Hmm. Sounds hot.”
“You have no idea.” My voice dips, snagging his attention, and the energy that burns between us makes me wish I could follow through.
“You guys fucking?”
I jump at the question, and everyone turns to look at Royce.
“W-what?”
Circus laughs. “If we were fucking, do you really think I’d keep it to myself? Look at the man.”
“A month ago you couldn’t stand the sight of him, and now you guys are looking at each other like crack.”
“They are?” Tanner’s eyebrows wrinkle up.
“Isn’t Rowan straight?” Dahlia asks.
“Don’t you know better than to assume?” Royce asks, hooking a thumb at Tanner. Tanner grabs his hand and bites his thumb, distracting people from the question for approximately a second before they turn to me.
My throat feels hot.
“That’s a dumb question,” Circus says. “Assume away.”
It doesn’t distract anyone. “Wait, are you not?” Dahlia pushes.
“Hey, look a bird in the bar!” Circus continues. “Everyone turn and look at the invisible bird that’s flying around just over—”
I cover his mouth with my hand again. Because I can. Because I sort of love it.
“Ah …” I glance around at them all. Can I trust them with this? I know Circus said I could, but if just one person lets it slip, even by accident …
But Circus and Leon already know and haven’t said anything.
Tanner and Royce surely would know outing someone isn’t okay.
I eye Dahlia. “Would it matter if I wasn’t straight?”
She picks up her beer and glances inside. “Is there something in the water? Why are all the guys here gay?”
Tanner lifts a hand. “Bi.”
“Pan,” Circus adds.
She sighs. “Shut up. You know what I mean.”
I swallow roughly and lift my hand. It’s shaking. I can’t believe I’m about to say this. I quickly look around, and when I’m sure it’s all clear, I say, “Gay.” Only it gets caught in my throat, and I’m not sure if they even understand the word. I lock eyes with Leon, who gives me a small smile.
“And if that’s repeated outside of this group,” Leon says, “your lives will be made miserable.”
My jaw wants to drop, but I hold it together.
I quickly hide my shaking hands in my lap, getting increasingly worried I’m going to start crying. Which I will not do. Not here.
Not even when Circus grabs my hand under the table and gives it a tight squeeze.
Then doesn’t let go.
Not even when the conversation continues on and no one makes a big deal out of my declaration.
Not even when Tanner jokingly tells Royce that he wants in on a Row and Roo sandwich.
Or when Roo’s face goes completely blank and he says to me, “I will gut you.”
It’s all … so normal.
And … I’m out. To a handful of people, but it still counts.
I feel sick.
And excited.
And like moving from this booth will be too big to manage.
I’m also borderline ready to take it all back and disappear from town again, but I firmly push that thought aside. And the voice that sounds like Circus reminds me this is okay.
No one is judging me.
Except for myself, and that’s something I can change.
By the time I get home that night, I’m more excited than scared.
Way too excited to sleep.
So instead, I sit down, grab my laptop, and start searching. I open an account, then hunt down every social media account of anyone in town who could potentially find the photos of Circus and me.
Block, block, fucking block, motherfuckers.
By the time I’m done, my eyes are scratchy, my neck is sore, and I’ve blocked a few thousand people. It’s almost morning and thank God I’m not working today because my only plan is to sleep.
But before I can lose the nerve, I add a display picture, then find a photo of Circus and me from high school.
It’s faded slightly, and I have to take a photo of it before I can upload it, but it’s of us at our spot on Crown Trails.
Circus is leaning back into my chest, both of us wearing huge smiles as the sun beats down on our faces.
I clear my throat and type out a caption.
Thank God for your smiles.
And I mean it.
Then I tag him and hover over the About Me option on my profile. My brain is too tired to think, so all I type is one word.
Him.
Then I fall face-first into bed and pass out.