Page 56 of Cockpit
“I told you, we aren’t—”
“Like I said, if any man deserves a break and something more than a little mindless twisting of his sheets, it would be Grayson “Make Me Moan” Malone. First his suspension from flying at work, when we all know he’s a hero and then everything with Luke yesterday . . . The guy can sure use a little Sidney sunshine in his life.”
“What do you mean? What happened with Luke yesterday?”
“Oh my, you don’t know?”
“Don’t go clutching your pearls on me, Cathy,” I say when she lifts a hand to her chest. “What happened?”
“He was in a fight at school.”
“About?”
She looks around as if she’s about to get in trouble for talking, and the simple action has dread dropping into my stomach. “Well, someone teased him about that picture in the paper—the one of you two—and one thing led to another about his mom not wanting him, and boom, he threw the first punch.”
“Regardless of what you might think, not everything is about you, Princess.”
Grayson had been trying to tell me he wasn’t canceling because of something I had done or said. I was just too wrapped up in myself to listen.
God, maybe I am every bit as selfish as everyone keeps implying. As Grayson keeps saying without coming right out and throwing it in my face.
“Little boy is just like his father. Willing to fight for love. How does it feel having two men—Grayson and Luke—love you at the same time?”
Her words snap me from my thoughts, and I mumble some kind of generic response. Even if I refute her, she will argue with me. I take a step backward. “It was good seeing you again, Cathy, but I have to run. Drinks next time?”
“You know I’m definitely in.”
I head toward my car, my mind a confused mess.
That damn picture.
It only serves to prove my dad right. That I act before I think, without taking anyone else around me into consideration.
The heat from my dad over the photo was just another reprimand in a long line of them. It’s water off my back.
The pang of remorse I feel when it comes to Luke, though, is a whole different ballgame that I’m not sure how to process.
My actions caused him to be bullied and teased. To throw a punch in defense. He’s hurting, and it’s all because I acted in haste without thought to anyone else who might be affected.
Feeling like shit is putting it mildly.
I don’t know why I’m here.
It’s because I want to apologize to Luke.
I don’t know why I’ve sat staring at the front of his house.
It’s because I really want to see Grayson.
I don’t know why I’ve spent th
e last thirty minutes watching the porch swing move ever so subtly under the influence of the intermittent soft breeze. Why I keep glancing at the blue BMX bike lying on its side in the driveway or the baseball bat propped beside the front door.
Even more, I don’t know why I keep staring at the lights in the windows and wondering what’s going on inside.
I should start my car and drive away.
But I can’t.
