Page 43 of Man Advantage

Every other time she’d asked him that, in two years of asking, he’d changed the subject. He could feel the old move sitting right there, the shrug and the nothing to tell.

His mouth had gone dry. He thought about Cole’s hand finding his under the covers Tuesday night, and his own voice in the dark. I’m not ashamed of you. He’d meant it then. He meant it now.

“Yeah,” he said. “I am.”

Nadine’s eyebrows went up. Then she smiled slowly, like she was trying not to make too much of it and failing.

“Well,” she said. “Look at you. Who?”

“It’s Cole.”

He said it and stood there. His heart was going like he’d just come off the ice.

Nadine didn’t say anything right away. He watched her take it in: the spare room, the pickups, a year of the two of them in that house. Her mouth opened. Closed.

“Cole,” she said. “Okay. How long?”

“Since Thanksgiving.”

“Thanksgiving.” She let out a breath. “You could’ve told me. You know that, right? I’d have been happy for you. I am happy for you.”

“I know. I’m telling you now.”

“You are.” Her face went soft, and she reached out and took hold of his arm through his coat. “He’s a good one. He’s careful with her. He doesn’t make a show of it, and she trusts him, and that kid doesn’t trust anybody.” She squeezed once. “I’m glad, Ford. Really.”

He nodded. He didn’t trust his voice yet.

“I want to tell her,” he said, when he had it back. “Charlotte. Cole and me, together, when I’m home. Sitting down.”

“Good. She should hear it from the two of you.” Nadine let go of his arm. “Do it Sunday. I’ll have her back Friday, so you’ll have the weekend.” She stepped back into the doorway. Then she stopped and looked at him, and the teasing went out of her face.

“You’re in love with him.”

Ford looked at the porch light.

“Yeah,” Nadine said. “That’s what I thought.” She hugged her cardigan shut. “Have you told him that?”

“He knows.”

“That’s not what I asked.” She said it gently. “In nine years, I never once heard you say it first. Not once. I always had to, and then you’d say it back like you’d been waiting for somebody to tell you it was allowed. I made my peace with it.” She tipped her head. “Don’t do that to him. He’s not me. He’s going to get tired of going first.”

Ford didn’t have anything for that.

“Go to Fargo,” she said. “Text me when you get there so I know the bus didn’t end up in a ditch.”

He got as far as the truck before she called after him.

“Ford.”

He turned. She was still in the doorway.

“You told me. That’s the part I care about.” She smiled. “Whatever he’s doing, keep letting him.”

The hotel in Fargo had the heat set to eighty and a window that didn’t open. Halsey was in the other bed with his earbuds in and his phone six inches from his face, dead to the world. Twenty-three-year-olds could sleep through a fire alarm.

Cole was across the hall. Room 214. Leo was in there with him.

Ford lay on top of the covers in the dark and looked at the ceiling. He’d been trying since the bus pulled out of Port Haven to work out how to get into that room.