Page 49 of One More Dare
My eyes snap up to his. “Really?”
“Yeah, of course. So, is your break soon? I wasn’t sure exactly when your shift started, but I was hoping we could chat.”
And there it is. Why does it feel like he’s about to break up with me? I don’t need him to pull me aside and let me down gently. I’m a big boy. I don’t need some big speech.
“Sorry, I actually just got here. We’re pretty slow right now though, if you want to just tell me now.”
“Damn, okay. I wanted to double-check if you actually want me to come to the lake house. Obviously, you’d been drinking, and I was there, so asking me was easy. I just wanted to check in person and say no pressure if you’d rather invite one of your other friends.” He’s smiling at me with what I think is a hopeful expression, but what he’s hoping for, I’m not sure.
“Listen, Will, if you don’t want to come?—”
“What? No. I’d love to come! Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful or like I want you to bring someone instead ofme. I just didn’t want any of your other friends to be jealous that I got the invite when you’ve known them longer or anything like that.”
I let out an awkward laugh before I decide to tell him the truth. I want this to be his decision. “I want you to come, Will. That’s why I invited you.”
His whole face lights up. “Great. I’m really excited.”
Despite all the anxiety I’ve had this morning, I hear myself responding, “Me too.” We stare at each other for a moment over the counter with matching smiles before I realize his drink is ready. I hold it up in front of me. “Iced vanilla latte for Will.”
“Thanks. I’ll text you later.”
“Sounds good,” I agree, and he walks away, leaving the shop with a backward glance at me to smile one more time.
Dom slides in beside me. “Soooo,” he starts, dragging the word out like he’s fully entertained by our very normal interaction. “Do you want to tell me how that isreallygoing? Because I cannot fathom that that borderline obsessed man is not into you.”
“Well”—I sigh, staring down at the counter—“he hasn’t told me otherwise, so for now, he’s still not an option.”
You’d think by how many times I’ve said that now internally and out loud to my friends that I’d fully process it. But instead, my brain quietly whispers thatstraight guys don’t usually offer good boys rewards, and that maybe, just maybe, last night could have meant something.
But it didn’t.
Falling for an unavailable friend isn’t new territory for me. It’s practically a rite of passage in some fucked-up way as a queer person. I don’t feel misled or taken advantage of or angry. I feel… sad and tender. A little stupid for my behavior. Or a lot.
I straighten a stack of cups that absolutely do not need straightening and force myself to focus on my shift.
Not on Will and how much I wish things could be different for us.
22
WILL
“Alright, let’s hit the road!” Coach’s booming voice fills the bus, and the driver pulls out of the athletic building’s parking lot.
All day as I was packing and getting my shit together for this spring break trip I usually love, I couldn’t stop thinking about how weird it would be to not see Porter for so long. I saw him as much as possible this week, but still, it wasn’t enough. I even went to his work to get a coffee before heading to the bus so I could see him one last time.
I’ve almost blurted out that I’ve realized I’m attracted to him at least five times, but I’ve stopped myself at the last second because none of them actually felt like the right moment. I should probably start by just telling him that I’ve realized I’m probably bi, that way I’m not putting any pressure on him if he isn’t into me.
But the longer I go without bringing it up, the more I think about our flirty exchange when he was drunk, how hot it was when he called me Daddy, and how much I hope Porter is into me and that somethingwillhappen. Then I go back to wanting to just blurt out that I’m into him.
I’ve never wanted to hook up with someone I’m friends with before though, and that, even more than the fact that I’ve never been with a man, has had me hesitating. I like to have clear expectations in place before anything happens, but with Porter, I have no idea what I’d want those expectations to even be. Would I only want to do it once and then go back to just being friends? Would I want to propose some sort of friends-with-benefits situation?
There’s a lot to consider, and until I figure out what I want, I think it’s best I don’t say anything yet.
“I’m stoked for tomorrow!” Decker shouts to whoever will listen, pulling me out of the loop of Porter-related questions my thoughts keep returning to.
“Me too. We’re gonna whoop their asses,” Tim responds.
Instead of participating in their conversation, I grab my backpack to pull out my headphones and Switch because I really am not in the mood for this right now. Nathan is sitting beside me, pulling his headphones up over his ears and playing on his phone too, so I know he won’t care if I keep to myself.
