Page 59 of Lost Boy
“Breakfast’s ready,” I tell him obviously.
It’s a little awkward. Why is it awkward?
I need to fix this!
“Smells like more meat on the menu, although we both sorta had our fill last night, if you know what I mean?” I wiggle my eyebrows at him, still lounging on my side of the bed as if I’ve been here all along.
He snorts and rolls his eyes. “I’ll pass on Cole’s meat,” he mumbles.
Jokes! He’s got jokes!
Double fucking score!
I burst out laughing. Can’t help it. “Dude, it’s a fucking sausage fest down there. And bacon. Pounds of it. Cole’s gonna give himself gout.”
“Let’s go home,” Fallon says softly, and my heart flips, beating upside down and inside out.
I swallow thickly, knowing I never lost him.
“Yours or mine?” I ask, unsure which he means.
“Wherever you are. And everyone else.” He says it so matter-of-factly, but this is huge. He sees us as family. As his home.
We won’t let him down, either. None of us. And we won’t leave.Ever.
But I’ll tell him these things later.
“I’ll text my dad, see where they’re at,” I say casually, not making a big deal out of his words. Even though the open vulnerability in his tone both breaks and heals my heart simultaneously. He’s been so closed off since the beginning, but I’ve noticed small changes already, and this counts as a big one.
I crawl out of bed and check my phone, texting my dad and ordering an Uber. By the time I’m done, Dad lets me know they’re at my house.
“We’re going to my place. Uber’s here in fifteen if you want a quick meat snack before we hit the road.”
He huffs out a breath of air, slightly different from his usual snort, but I also get a little twitch of his lips as one side tugs up for a fraction of a second.
Fucking score!
That was definitely a smile. There’s no denying it.
* * *
“My house was TP-ed again,” Joel informs me the second we walk in the front door, not even two steps into the foyer. He’s frowning, his features tight, as he leans against the wall with his arms crossed.
Goddamnit Seth.
My hangover brain completely forgot about his accusations last night. He thinks he has one over me, finding Fallon’s shimmery Chapstick on my lips? But the dumbass gave me even more ammunition by TP-ing Joel’s house.Again.
He has no proof about Fallon and me, but I’m starting to question whether I care anymore if he did. Will it even matter if everyone knows I’m gay? Am I just being paranoid about staying in the closet like this? Will the private college I’m attending in the fall drop me if they know I’m gay? I’ve dreamed about playing ball in Southern California since I was eight.
I wasn’t ready to gamble on these questions before Fallon, but the more I’m around him, the more I don’t want to hide. I’m caring less about what others think and more about what I want. And there’s no doubt that I want Fallon Rivers.
“This rivalry between you guys and Jefferson is normal to an extent, but what’s been happening this year isn’t healthy. It’s hazing, and it’s bullying. And it seems to go both ways—”
“I don’t—”
“I didn’t say you, Ryder. This all just needs to end. Text the guys at Jefferson and try to make amends. Then message the team chat. You’re the captain, Ry. Help me get a handle on the boys. We need to focus on the game. Playoffs start Monday.”
I don’t need to make amends with anyone.They just TP-ed his house,among a slew of other offenses, half of which he has no clue about.
