Page 16 of The Bro Date
But they’re much rarer these days.
“I’ll try not to,” I whisper, holding it gently while the urge to confess my love for him threatens to claw its way out of my throat.
A single raindrop lands on my wrist, thankfully interrupting the moment before I blow up our entire decade-long friendship.
“Shit! My violin!” I quickly slip the swan into my pocket and scramble to clasp my violin case securely. I can’t have another disaster like I did in tenth grade when it popped open, and my violin crashed to the floor right before the end-of-year symphony. I had to use an out-of-tune school rental while mine was in the shop, and it still haunts me to this day.
Shane ushers me toward his truck, opening the passenger side and getting me and my violin to safety before running back for my bike. The rain is picking up, and his white T-shirt clings to his chest like a second skin. Hard nipples peek through the sheer fabric, along with each and every ab in his six-pack. I unabashedly stare while he wheels my bike over, turning around in my seat to watch as he lifts it into the bed of his truck. Shane’s biceps bulge deliciously, but when I glance up, his smirk tells me I’ve been caught.
Shit.
I flush, spinning around in my seat and facing forward with wide eyes.
“Damn!That rain is cold,” Shane exclaims, and my traitorous eyes dart to his nipples for a quick second, just begging to get caught again. “You hungry?” he asks, grabbing a hand towel from the backseat and rubbing it against his head, attempting to dry off the best he can.
“I could eat.” It’s been a while since dinner, and I worked up an appetite. Plus, I’ll never say no to more time with my best friend.
“There’s a new taco truck parked by the mall. I was gonna check it out if you don’t mind a little drive? The rain should stop by the time we get there.”
“I don’t mind,” I reply with a small smile, comfortably sinking into my seat as Shane turns the heat on low, making me feel cozy and warm and safe. “That sounds perfect.”
Tonight couldn’t have gone better, and ending it with tacos is just icing on the cake.
CHAPTER SIX
TOBY
The first week back at school flies by, but I've hardly seen Shane after coming out to him on the dock. Our only time together has been early morning cafeteria dates with rubbery eggs, soggy pancakes, and half-asleep conversations. I’m hoping we have an opportunity to hang out and talk more this weekend.
Since coming out to someone who cares about me wasn’t so hard after all, I decided to tell my other two best friends—Tate and Daija—conveniently leaving out the part where I’m in love with Shane. I’m not sure how I feel about the fact that they weren’t surprised at all, Tate claiming he can recognize his own kind.
When I admitted that I wanted to start dating, they squealed in unison and demanded that I come over to their apartment to set up my profile. I need a good push, or I might just linger forever, waiting on Shane like a ghost with unfinished business.
Now it’s Friday afternoon, I’m done with classes for the week, and I’m at Tate and Daija’s place, spilling my freaking guts.
“Alright,” Tate exclaims, clapping his hands together in excitement.
His bleach-blond hair is even curlier than mine, with the bottom half shaved off and dark roots showing on top. He’s definitely good-looking, but he’s like an older brother to me. He’s family. They both are. Tate and Daija immediately took me under their wing as a freshman last year. I was ascared baby bird without a mother, in their words, and they adopted me without question.
“Show me what we’re working with, honey. I’ve got a party to get to after this, and by party, I mean a confused straight boy wanting to experiment.” With an eye roll and finger quotes I could never pull off, Tate blows a bubble with his gum and pops it before chewing aggressively.
I can’t help the blush that fills my cheeks. “Experiment?” I ask, knowing my friends won’t judge me for being curious.
“Oh, yes, dear Toby boy. Experimenting withdick,” Tate exclaims with a high-pitched cackle, like he’s excited for what’s in my future.
“Tate!” Daija admonishes. “Don’t scare our baby boy away from team tryouts. YouknowI want him on our side.”
“Tryouts?” I feel lost.Socompletely lost.
“Yes!” Daija shouts excitedly. “For Team Dick!”
They both burst out laughing, and my face heats even more.
“Okay, okay,” Tate says, wiping his tears away. “Back to business.Grindr.What have you got so far?”
“I . . . um . . . I haven’t even set up my profile,” I admit sheepishly.
“Oh my God!This is going to be so fun!” Daija exclaims with the sort of excitement that scares me a little. Getting situated on her bed, she leans against the headboard comfortably and drapes a turquoise blanket over her lap. She rips open a shareable-size bag of candy, smiling in anticipation. “Skittles, anyone?” she asks innocently, pouring some into her palm.
