Page 3 of Brad & Finn
Miles raised his glass, and Brad’s grin spread as he clinked his glass for a second time that night. “Congratulations! At least, I assume that’s a good thing?”
Brad’s hand froze halfway to bringing his glass to his lips. Of course it was a good thing. Who didn’t celebrate a promotion? He’d been working towards this for years, putting in the blood, sweat, and, yes, sometimes even tears. This was what he wanted, though…right?
Of course it was.
He put his glass down, blaming the whiskey for his hesitation. “It’s good,” he said as his fingers absently found the edge of the napkin wrapped around his drink. “I’ve been running myself ragged the past decade or so, trying to earn my keep and get some credit with the rest of the coaching staff. After all that, it looks like they’re finally willing to give me a shot. And I’m excited for the opportunity, but also all around ready to settle down.”
Miles raised a curious eyebrow. “With anyone in particular?”
God, Miles sounded just like his mother. “Not at the moment,” he said, with a chuckle that sounded a little forced.
It was on his to-do list: get a promotion, prove himself, find someone, settle down, and make his mom proud, in that order. Unfortunately, he wasn’t having much luck in the “find someone” department. The least he could do was a little settling down.
“Well, you seem good, anyway,” Miles said, oblivious to Brad’s internal monologue.
“Thanks. You, too,” Brad said, lifting his glass back to his lips.
Miles sniffed, and Brad stopped, once again not quite getting the whiskey into his mouth.
“Or…not?”
Miles took a long drink from his pint glass, and Brad used it as an excuse to take a quick drink himself. He might not get a chance to otherwise.
“It’s too much to get into here,” Miles finally said.
“I’ve got nothing but time, man,” he said—because it was true. He didn’t have anywhere to be or anyone else to talk to. “Hit me with it.”
“Uh, okay. Well,” Miles said, his eyes darting away. “I started dating someone recently. My first partner, actually.”
Ah, maybe that was why Miles asked about Brad’s lack of relationship status. “Congratulations! Who's the lucky…” Bradpaused, thinking of all the times his buddies backed him into a corner by asking him who the “lucky lady” was in his life. He had no clue about Miles’ sexuality, but he didn’t need to know not to be a dick. “Person?”
Miles did a pretty good job of hiding his surprise, except for a slight tick in his jaw. “It’s Atlas St. James.”
The name conjured up neon colored hair and gender-bending clothing. “Oh! I think I remember him. He’s—” Brad kicked himself for having been thoughtful the first time, but not the second. “Sorry, is that the right pronoun?”
“It is. And he’s… well, he’s amazing,” Miles said, with a smile that was there one second and gone the next.
There was definitely a story there, but Brad hesitated, not wanting to pry. Miles had been sitting at the bar alone, though. Maybe he could use a friend tonight just as much as Brad did?
“That’s awesome, but…why does your face look like that?”
Miles snorted. “Like what?”
“Like someone stole your cat.”
“I don’t have a cat,” Miles deadpanned.
Brad burst out laughing. “Alright, you got me there, but seriously, what’s wrong?”
“I’m not out,” Miles said, his eyes catching and holding on to Brad’s. “As gay.”
Brad winced. “Ah, that’s tough.” Before he could stop it, a question burned its way up his throat. “Have you known for a while?”
“Since I was eleven.”
Brad’s mouth fell open. “You knew throughout high school? Damn. I know we didn’t hang out a ton, but…I hope you felt like you could have told me if you wanted to.”
Miles waved a dismissive hand. “No, it wasn’t like that at all. I didn’t come out to anyone. Only my sister and Atlas know. And now you and my therapist as of today.”
