Page 18 of The Jock
Taylor opened his mouth and closed it again.
“You don’t have to answer right now,” Milo said. “You can think on it. The offer doesn’t have an expiration date.”
“So Colby brought me here…”
“Because he loves you. And he wants you to be happy. I hope you were serious about forgiving him. I understand that telling me the things he did is a huge intrusion, but his intentions were pure.”
“Happy. Yeah,” Taylor said as the lights dimmed and the stage lit up. Music flooded the room and a chorus of cheers erupted as the first performer of the night was introduced.
Colby arrived with new drinks for Taylor and Milo and a bottle of water for himself. Milo had seen this performance amillion times and he knew it almost as well as he knew his own name, so he watched Taylor and Colby instead.
Colby had watched this routine the other night, but if at all possible, he looked even more interested in it tonight. He was still very much in awe, with his wide-eyed expression, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He looked enraptured. Enthralled. And Milo was equally captivated. Watching Colby and Taylor—mostly Colby—enjoy the show was somehow like Milo watching it for the first time.
He knew the show like the back of his hand and he didn’t need to watch the stage to know what was going on. The bass-drop-backbend combo had Taylor’s eyes big as saucers, but Colby’s reaction was curious. A flush of the cheeks. A gasp. A glance that cut to Milo before looking back at the performance.
Milo’s skin buzzed. His pulse was wild and out of control like his racing thoughts. He’d stopped performing for reasons he couldn’t remember. Reasons he didn’t want to think about. And maybe he’d missed it, or missed something about it, because the urge was there again. But as much as Milo ached to suddenly get up on that stage, he knew down to his bones that he wasn’t ready yet. Maybe he never would be. It might be an ache that he never soothed. A wound that never closed.
A hand touched his arm and Milo snapped out of his stupor to find Colby’s strong hand on his skin. He wasn’t sure that Colby had touched him before and his body sang from the contact.
“You okay?”
Milo forced a smile. “Long day, that’s all.”
If he was in the market for a new romance, he might have pretended that there was a soft kind of look in Colby’s eyes, and he would’ve been annoyed that Taylor suddenly injected himself into the moment. But he was relieved when Taylor’s enthusiastic voice got his attention.
“This is unbelievable. Like, I’ve watched shows online and stuff, but being at one is next level.” Taylor leaned over and tossed an arm over Colby’s shoulders, pulling him into a side hug and damn near off his chair. “Thank you.”
Colby laughed and pried Taylor’s arm off him, shifting in his seat. “It’s no big deal.”
“It is, though.” Taylor’s voice warbled and Milo shared a look of alarm with Colby.
“Taylor, did you drink too fast?” Colby asked, his voice tender under the thin veneer of mocking.
“I wanted you to know that I appreciate this. Even if you did betray me and tell Milo about me.”
“I’m sorry about him. He doesn’t drink a lot, and usually it’s a beer or two, not whatever was in that drink of yours.” Colby pushed his bottle of water over to Taylor. “Drink up, you’ll feel better.”
Taylor scowled at Colby but listened, which Milo found fascinating.
“I thought siblings were supposed to fight more?”
“Oh, we do. We had a big one at the diner when Colby came to kiss ass, but we hurt Jonah’s feelings. We try not to fight, though. He’s a dick bag, but he means well.”
“Thanks, asshat.”
“Anytime, snarf.”
Milo looked at Colby. “What’s a snarf?”
Taylor burst into a fit of giggles and he might have tried to offer an explanation, but his words were unintelligible with laughter.
Colby kicked Taylor under the table.
“Ow.” He stopped laughing long enough to scowl at Colby before continuing to crack up.
“A snarf”—Colby glared at Taylor—“is someone who farts in the bath and bites the bubbles. You are an actual child.”
“You love me.” Taylor twisted open the water and finished off what Colby hadn’t drunk.
