Page 29 of Courageous Hearts

“Bo?”

“Hm?” I ask, refocusing on the phone in my hand.

It’s just Will again, and he has a curious smile on his face. “That was some li’l grin you just had. What were you thinkin’ ’bout?”

“Nothin’,” I lie.

“All right, keep your secrets,” Will says, nonplussed. “Coop and Tru said goodbye. I should get goin’, too. We’re doin’ supper soon.”

“Yeah, of course. Take care, Will.”

“You, too, Bo. See you soon?” he asks.

I give him a nod. “Count on it.”

Will and I say our final goodbyes, and, as I slip my phone back in my pocket, the seagull that had been feasting nearby takes off, its wings stretched wide as it climbs into the sky.

It looks free. Wild, despite being so close to a sprawling city full of humans and infrastructure. No matter where it is, that bird is still capable of flight. Of soaring over the endless water.

And I wonder if maybe that’s what Jameson loves so much about it. The wide-open possibilities. The beauty that can be found most anywhere if you look for it. The fact that, no matter how small our world may seem at times, there’s so much more out there, waiting to be explored.

With a smile, I push off the bench. I’ll have to ask him sometime.

Chapter 9

Jameson

“Hey, James. Is something wrong?”

“Why would you assume that?” I ask Grant, pacing slowly around my living room. It’s not exactly spacious, so my circuit is small, but it gives my feet something to do.

“You don’t usually call during my lunch hour,” he points out.

“Right. Well, nothing’s wrong per se.”

I just can’t stop thinking about Bo. They’ve been on my mind all week. During my day off, I couldn’t help but replay the events of Bo’s birthday in my mind over and over again, ending in that hug. I’d assumed my reaction then was purely physical—that twitch a matter of happenstance.

But then, there were the past couple of evenings at Gertie’s, my gaze constantly being drawn to Bo as they wove around the room serving drinks. Feeling like my gut was falling out of my body every time they looked my way and gave me a subtle smile.

“Spit it out, James,” my brother says, ever pragmatic. “I have twenty minutes before my next period starts, so if we’re having a heart to heart, time’s a-ticking.”

I huff, taking a seat on my sofa and looking at the blurry reflection of myself in the flat-screen TV across the room. “I’m having a bit of a crisis of identity,” I admit.

Grant pauses. “Is this about your occupation?”

“No.” I like being a bartender, even if Grant doesn’t think it’s the most respectable choice of job.

“Is this an early midlife crisis thing? Are you planning on buying a sports car?” he asks.

I roll my eyes, even though my brother can’t see it. “No.”

“Okay,” he says slowly. “Do I need to play twenty questions, or could you tell me what’s wrong?”

I groan in frustration, mostly at myself for having trouble talking about this in the first place. “I think I might be attracted to someone who isn’t a woman,” I finally say.

“You think you might be attracted to someone who isn’t a woman,” Grant repeats.

“Can you not be an English teacher right now?” I reply, flopping against the back of the couch and running my hand through my hair. “I know I’m talking in vague riddles, but I don’t know what to think about this.”

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