Page 1 of All Our Secrets

Prologue:

the fuck-up

Silas

Irapped my knuckles against the bar top. The bartender slid my beer glass toward me, averting her gaze quickly, and hurried over to the next customer. People always did one of two things when they saw me: stared too long or avoided looking at me altogether. She’d cringed when she first served me, eyeing the right side of my face. It didn’t bother me. I’d lived with these scars for twenty years. That was enough time to get used to the visible repulsion they triggered. Most of the right side of my torso and face were scarred from a fire, but I wouldn’t avoid living to make others comfortable.

My phone dinged, and a rush of adrenaline accelerated my heart. Since I waited forhermessages like the addict I was, alerts for my PlayStation app were turned on. That was the only way we’d communicated for three years. It wasn’t until a year ago that I learned her name. Peyton Martin.

PeyBunny33was her PSN and was all I knew her as for a long time. I never could explain the zing that came over my body the first time I heard her voice through a headset. Without seeing or knowing her,allI wanted to do was talk to her, even if it meant playing with her insufferable gaming pals for hours on end. It had been during one of our duo sessions late at night that I learned her identity. Her roommate had let it slip in the background. Peyton had been so embarrassed and begged me to tell her my real name to make it even. I never did.

Doing so would have given her the ability to look me up on Facebook. I hadn’t posted pictures of myself, but Theodore and a few other people always tagged me in photos. Walking into a sea full of strangers hadn’t scared me in years, but Peyton… My arms trembled and my heart dropped to my boots.

The second I learned her name, I looked her up to give my hopeless infatuation a face. I shouldn’t have. She was more beautiful than I’d imagined. Too gorgeous to be caught dead next to me. Brown hair and big, dark eyes to match. And in every picture, she smiled so bright. It reminded me of her laughter in my ear every night. She reminded me of summer. Always fun. Always happy.

The complete fucking opposite of me.

But I wanted to meet her. More than anything.

I rubbed a hand over my puckered skin absentmindedly. No matter how many times I told her I was an ugly bastard, she called me a liar. “Something tells me you’re really not,”she’d chuckle. I hated that in order to meet her, I’d have to prove her wrong.

Disappointment settled in my gut when I saw the notification was from the group chat rather than a private one from Peyton.

IKILLEDKENNY12: WE NEED A THIRD IF ANYONE WANTS TO PLAY.

BADPLAYER: I’M DOWN.

MOODYKING1: LET’S ALL MEET UP.

The words flew off my fingertips so quickly, I tossed my phone on the bar once I hit send. Then I leaned over and waited.

LADYLUCK55566: LIKE IN PERSON?

IKILLEDKENNY12: I’M ALL FOR THAT. Y’ALL GOT TO COME TO OHIO , THOUGH, OR MY WIFE WILL KILL ME.

JEFFREYSMITH: I WOULD LOVE TO, BUT WIFE AND KIDS WOULD HAVE A COW.

PEYBUNNY33: KING, YOU JUST WANT TO SEE ME.

IKILLEDKENNY12: YEP.

LADY55566: YEPPPPP.

The group consisted of eleven people, and one by one, they all said yes in agreement with Peyton. I chuckled, causing the bartender to peek over at me when I did. Did I care that every one of our gamer friends knew I wanted to meet Peyton? Fuck no. I wasn’t subtle. I didn’t game at all unless she was or asked me to. If I was being honest, I’d grown out of it, but Peyton loved it with a passion. And Ireallyliked her, so I did whatever she asked. She hadn’t requested anything more of me, or I would have done that too. Besides giving up my identity.

PEYBUNNY33: I FINALLY GOT INTERNET HOOKED UP AT MY NEW PLACE. WE CAN PLAY TONIGHT, KING. YOU DOWN?

Peyton had moved to Kentucky a few months ago. Coincidentally, that was where I lived. And Peyton knew that. I tried not to think too much about it, but my obsessive tendencies when it came to her had a billion hopeful scenarios running through my head. That’s all it was, though. A hopelessexpectation. Other than knowing what state I lived in and that I owned my own business, my Peyton had no idea who I was in the real world. She pried a lot, but I never gave her much. The confidence I lacked in regard to her bugged the shit out of me. I never feared anyone’s flinch or repulsion toward me, but Peyton… she was like the sun for my soul. Just listening to her voice warmed me.Yes, made me all fuzzy and shit.

I never wanted to lose that sweetness. If she had such a strong effect on me without being near me, what could she do to me in person? What if my scars disgusted her? What if they didn’t? I didn’t believe Peyton to be shallow, but I’d wished, since the moment I looked her up on social media, thatIcould be someone who would make sense standing beside her.

As of late, all I did was pace at the shop. At night, I tossed and turned. Each day, I grew more restless. I needed to see her. I had to make it happen.No more fear of what could go wrong.I was slowly drowning in all these feelings. All these words and emotions I needed to express to her. In person.As a man. Not the gamer friend.

Switching to my private messages with Peyton, I wrote her.

MOODYKING1: LET’S MEET. THIS WEEK. NO, RIGHT NOW. NO MORE HOLDING IT OFF.

PEYBUNNY33: YOU’RE CRAZY, KING. I’M MEETING A FRIEND OF THE GUY I’VE BEEN TALKING TO TODAY. YOU’RE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE THIS, BUT APPARENTLY, HE GOES BY KING TOO.

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