Page 94 of Someday Away

“For what?”

“I think I crossed a line.”

“Link,” I say with a gentle sigh, my thumb still grazing his cheek, “you’re my best friend, and I’ve always respected your boundaries, but I won’t lie—I have been in love with you foryears. There’s nothing to apologize for.” His eyes widen, and he swallows. “But you are straight…right?”

“I…I don’t know what I am.” His dark brows furrow in confusion. “I’m not really attracted to guys, but I am attracted to you. Is that okay?”

“Of course. It’s okay to love without a label, Link.”

He nods hesitantly, and I lean forward, kissing him again because, goddamn, I've wanted to for so long, but I know we have other plans tonight, so I pull away before we go too far.

I sit up, looking down at him with a reassuring smile. “I’m gonna take a shower. I’ll see you at dinnertime?

He nods in response as I leave his room, horny as hell.

LINCOLN

In the background, my speakers are quietly playing Coldplay’s “Fix You,” the lyrics making my chest ache as they seem to mock my current predicament.

I’ve been considering my complex feelings for Trey ever since we started sharing Charlie. I don’t regret kissing him, but in that moment, I felt like a teenager again, the fear of rejection lurking heavily in the back of my mind.

I really need to tell Charlie the truth.

For once in my life, I want to do better, be better—because of them—and ironically doing the right thing might be the reason Charlie leaves me. And I can’t say if I’d survive that loss. As much as I hate to admit it, Charlie’s been under my skin since I caught sight of her at my friend’s party years ago—maybe even before then. I think back to my memories of little Charlotte Bennett, a diligent shadow at her stepfather’s side through everyparty. And Matt was always there with her, schmoozing to be part of the boys’ club from a young age. I swallow the anger crawling up my throat as I realize how much of her life that sweet, naïve girl gave to that prick.

The first time I saw her, I was thirteen, so she must’ve been ten or eleven.

TEN YEARS AGO…

I walk into the Conners’ home reluctantly that evening. It’s winter break, and the last place I want to be is bumping elbows with my dad’s stupid-rich contacts, but apparently, thirteen is the magic age when I have to start learning about the family business. It’s all boring as hell if you ask me. If this is my future, count me out. And to make matters worse, Trey is at home sick—the lucky bastard—so I’m stuck at this hoity-toity party all by myself.

I’m standing at the bar, trying to snag a glass of champagne unnoticed when I see two kids close to my age across the room. The girl looks younger, and she’s scrawny—all elbows and knees—in a little pink lace dress that looks out of place with her disheveled wavy brown hair. There’s a dark-haired boy at her side who’s mostly forgettable, but the way his hand grips the skirt of the girl’s dress almost possessively, so tightly his knuckles are white, makes me instantly dislike him. My eyes drift back to the girl, and I hold back a smile when I notice she’s wearing sparkly silver Converse—no doubt, a scandal at a party like this.

I give up my ploy to steal alcohol and walk over to where my parents are chatting with a small group. “Who’s that girl?” I ask my dad, tilting my head in her direction.

“Oh, that’s Martin’s stepdaughter, Charlotte,” my dad replies before continuing his conversation.

A woman standing next to my dad looks over at Charlotte scornfully. She lowers her voice slightly before speaking. “Poor Martin Conner got stuck with that disgrace of a girl. Honestly, did she even brush her hair?” The woman next to her snickers, and I glare at them both. Rich people are such judgey assholes sometimes.

I’m still watching Charlotte as she shifts from foot to foot, smiling politely. She looks as bored as I feel, and I consider rescuing her from the monotony of it all, but something about the boy at her side makes me uncomfortable, so I reluctantly stay put. I start feeling itchy and hot in the starchy clothing my mom made me wear, so I release the top button on my shirt and roll up my sleeves to get some sort of relief.

“Hey, you’re Lincoln, right?” I turn around to see a brown-haired boy with big blue eyes standing behind me smiling.

“Uh, yeah, that’s me,” I say slowly.

“I’m Sebastian,” he says. “Do you want to get out of here? My friends and I are hanging out in our pool house.” He pulls me by the sleeve away and looks around as if he doesn’t want to be overheard. “I nicked a bottle of whisky,” he whispers.

“Absolutely,” I say with a grin. “Lead the way.”

I thinksomething about that little girl must’ve stayed in my head from that day on. For years, we went to parties at her family’s estate, and every time, my eyes would seek Charlie outbefore I snuck away with the rest of the delinquents. I don’t know why I did it. We never spoke, even after I left her that stuffed cat. And I never really thought about how strange it was until recently. But maybe subconsciously, I knew I needed her even back then.

I blink as a noise downstairs rouses me from memory lane, and I realize it’s probably my dad. Nerves settle in my stomach. I’m still so angry at my mom for leaving. But the anger I felt towards my dad is waning, and I’m finally ready to talk about what happened.

I walk downstairs and into the kitchen, finding my dad just sitting down to eat a sandwich. I glance at the clock over the stove, realizing with surprise it’s closer to dinnertime than I thought. He looks up when I enter, and gives me a smile.

“Hey, kid.” I grunt in response. “Make yourself some dinner,” he says, nodding at the ingredients still laid out on the counter. He looks tired, dark circles evident below his deep blue eyes, and his clothes are rumpled like he slept in them.

“Thanks, but I’m waiting on Trey to eat.” I frown. “How long have you been home?”

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