Page 23 of A Mountain Man Walks into a Library

Noah groans. “First you bail on practice all weekend, and now you can’t focus.”

Josiah shoots him a warning look, but I wave away his concern.

“It’s fine,” I insist. Noah and I have been friends since before we could talk. I know he’ll always be honest with me. He’ll always tell me what I need to hear, and today, apparently, it’s that I’m an asshole.

They know all about Remy. I have never kept a secret in my life, and I blabbed as soon as I walked into Noah’s garage. Told them about how his parents mistook me for his imaginary boyfriend. How we spent the weekend grilling and playing games and paddling and pretending. And then how it stopped being pretend. How Remy kissed me. Twice. How I kissed him back.

How he turned me away.

My head has been a scattered mess since I got home last night. I went up to my apartment and played back the entire day, unsure where it all went wrong. Obviously, Remy had his hypoglycemic episode, but we’d had such a good day until that. And even after, he stayed tucked to my side whenever we were in the same room.

When I told Josiah, he just gave me a sad, sympathetic smile and didn’t start a single sentence with the phrase, “Lennon says,” for at least the first half hour.

“Lennon says the library has been getting busier with kids out of school for the summer,” he says, breaking his streak, and Noah exchanges a fond eye roll with me. “Maybe he’s just distracted with work.”

I shake my head, which earns me a groan from Noah who sets down his drumsticks.

“I guess we’re doing group therapy instead of band practice today,” he says, “don’t blame me when the Harlow Mountain Men bomb at the fest.”

“Okay,” Josiah agrees amiably. Then he turns to me. “Maybe he’s just embarrassed about what happened.”

“Well, yeah,” I say, “but that’s a problem, isn’t it? Why is it some big secret for him? I’ve already seen him at his worst—”

“You don’t know that,” Noah offers with a shrug. “I mean, passing out is pretty bad, but you don’t know how bad it gets for him. He’s diabetic? Man, I’ve heard of people having seizures when their blood sugar levels drop too low. Even passing out is a pretty vulnerable thing to let someone else see.” He frowns. “Especially someone you just started dating.”

I fight against the urge to say that we aren’t dating. But I don’t know what to call it instead.

Anyway, I understand Noah’s point. But I don’t have to like it.

I want to stop by the library and talk to him. Like I have every Monday for the last six months. Remy made it pretty clear, though.See you aroundis definitely not,See you tomorrow.So I didn’t go to the library. I didn’t bake some increasingly elaborate treat. I didn’t slip a handwritten card into an envelope.

“Actually,” Noah says, and for a guy who’s so averse to the idea ofgroup therapy, he’s pretty eager to give advice now. “Actually, this whole thing is probably pretty vulnerable and confusing for him.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “Huh?”

Noah gestures with his sticks as he talks, stabbing the air to punctuate his points.

“You guys have been friends for months, right? And yeah, sure, you’ve been flirting with him but honestly, man, it sounds like he was pretty oblivious to the whole thing. I almost feel bad for you, but you seemed to be having such a good time, that I kept my mouth shut.”

He did not. He teased me every time I’ve brought it up for the last six months.

“But you guys went from him being totally unaware that you were interested in him to making out and trying to convince his parents that you were a thing. That’s a weird transition, Sam.” And something like empathy plays over his usually sarcastic face. “Going from friends tomore than friendsis hard. And scary.”

I narrow my eyes at him just slightly, trying to parse his tone. He’s clearly speaking from something more personal than speculation. I make a mental note to pry sometime. To pry and then meddle.

But he’s not wrong about anything he’s saying.

I sink back in my chair. “I’m scared, too,” I say, finally.

It feels good to admit it. To say to another person,I’ve got something at stake here. Because as much as I’m into Remy, as much as I loved kissing him and going to bed with him, if I traded our friendship for a quick tumble, I don’t think I could take it.

Josiah leans over his guitar, his body relaxing. “It’s scary as hell,” he says.

He’s been with Lennon for almost six months now, and every time I see them together, my brother still has a distinct deer-in-the-headlights look on his face. Like he can’t quite believe the situation he’s found himself in, but he can’t look away either. For his part, Lennon looks at my brother like he hung the fucking moon. And if Lennon had asked for it, I have no doubt that Josiah would have obliged.

So, yeah, love is scary as shit. I know that. I’m not stupid. And I had been prepared to dive right into the fire...but then Remy froze me out and now it’s even scarier than it had been.

I sigh. “So, what do I do?”

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