Page 90 of Triple Play

Something that riled me when Felix said it. Now it stings like salt in a cut. Still, I know an asshole when I meet one—Brayden seems like he’ll toss a slew of insults until one lands. “Blake’s a great guy.”

“Sure, if you like being bored.”

“He’s interesting. The problem is people don’t bother to get to know him.”

Brayden’s lips tick up amusedly. “I’m sure there are any number of things you find interesting about my brother. I could think of about eighty million of them.”

“Hey.” It comes out full Boston, even more so when I click my nails in Brayden’s face. These short fucking nails make it harder, but some skills you don’t lose. “Mind your fucking business.”

Brayden laughs as if I’ve managed to surprise him. “Oh, Mom and Dad are absolutely gonna hate her,” he says to Blake through the rolled-down window. He glances to where Blake’s arm is resting on the doorframe. In the morning sunlight, it’s obvious Blake is wearing nail polish. He spent last night looking at those nails when he thought Felix and I weren’t paying attention, examining them with a pleased kind of flush.

Now Brayden grins, knowing, and Blake goes a deep red that could be anger, shame, or a mixture of the two. “Though,” Brayden says, “I guess Mom and Dad are just happy you’re dating a girl—I mean, dating at all.” Said like an oops, even if it’s very obviously not one.

And that is it. I storm into Brayden’s space. “Has anyone ever told you to shut the hell up?”

Brayden laughs hollowly. “You got something to say?”

“Tons.”

“So say it.”

When I look over his shoulder, Blake is watching us, face pale under his tan. Felix is hovering nearby, looking he might interfere more directly—possibly with his fists.

Blake doesn’t need this. Not ever and definitely not this morning.

“The thing about Blake—” I poke my finger against Brayden’s sternum for emphasis. “The thing about Blake is that he’s not like you or me. He’s a good person, not in that bullshit way where people are trying to look good, but he’s actually good, deep down. And the thing about a good person like that is sometimes they don’t know how to deal with someone who’s not.”

“Huh,” Brayden says, a clipped single syllable. So not what he thought I would say—like he expected me to accept his insults with a smile or have some freakout over his not-so-subtle insinuations about Blake being queer.

But I’m not done yet. Anger boils just beneath my skin—at Brayden, sure, but mostly at myself. Everything tells me I should calm down, shut up. Be appropriate or at least polite. Fuck that. I gesture between Brayden and myself. “It’s easy for people like us take people like him for granted. That’s the thing about good people. You can push and push and push and they don’t give up on you. Until one day, you go too far and push them away. Then you don’t realize how much you’ve lost until they’re gone.”

My voice goes hoarse at the end of it, tears gathering in my throat. I will not cry. Not here. Not in front of anyone, even if my eyes are suspiciously wet.

Brayden looks down at me, amusement in the tilt of his mouth, though his eyes are flat. Wary, with something else hovering under that. How I thought he and Blake looked alike, I don’t know. “Fine,” he says.

“Fine what?”

“Fine, you can date my brother.”

Like this was a test that, somehow, I passed.

Brayden turns to Blake. “You got a real live one here.”

Blake rolls his eyes, but he’s almost smiling. “So happy you approve.” Then he goes back to flipping various switches in Lilac II’s interior.

“You done making sure I didn’t break your precious car?” Brayden asks.

That makes Blake narrow his eyes. “What’d you do?”

“Always gotta be suspicious. They make it so hard to stash shit in vehicle doors nowadays.”

Blake squawks. Actually squawks.

“Relax, bro,” Brayden laughs, “I’m fucking with you.”

Blake slides out of the car, then motions for him. “C’mere.”

For a second, it looks like Brayden might refuse, but he goes. Standing together, they’re about the same height, Blake only a half-inch or so taller, Brayden’s hair combed up like he’s trying to make up for the difference.

---