Golden Boys (Golden Boys, #1)(62)

“That’s thoughtful,” I say.

“I can’t wait for the sunrise,” he says. It’s a non sequitur, but I let the conversation drift. “It’s always so beautiful, and I always try to pace myself so I’m this perfect amount of drunk to appreciate it.”

I laugh. “I should probably slow down, then. We’ve been trying to catch up to everyone, but it’s all catching up to me. Every time I turn to look at you, it takes a second for the world to catch up. Does that make sense?”

“Franzia will most definitely catch you up, and fast. That’s why I only stick to beer.” He hiccups. “Though that has its drawbacks.”

We stare at the fire together, and I’m a little mesmerized at how it flickers. Cole shifts, almost imperceptibly, but I feel our bare arms touch lightly, and I savor our closeness. I turn my face to him, and he just smirks at the fire.

There’s a fire in me, a pot that’s been close to boiling over for so long now. Seeing Reese’s pictures with Philip awakened something weak and petty in me, and I hate that feeling.

“There’s something about beach fires that always feel romantic, you know?” Cole says. “It’s nice to be around someone who appreciates that.” He turns to me, and I know the warmth in my cheeks has nothing to do with the fire blazing in front of me. “Can I just lay all the cards on the table here? You’re, like, this incredible hunk, you’re impossibly sweet, and I really want to kiss you right now.”

My gaze drops to his lips, and I slowly lace my fingers through his. His directness shocks me, brings me fully into the present, and the jealousy inside me feels muted now. A cool breeze cuts through us as I close the very short distance between us.

I’m always too cautious. I never go for what I want.

But this time? I think I can.

REESE

It’s nice to see Heath let loose, though it’s hard to fully understand his drunken ramblings when that idiot turned off autocorrect again. If there was ever a time for autocorrect, this is it, I think.

His last text, though, struck me as odd: i hppe u and philip are happy

I started typing out a quick response to dismiss it, explaining that Philip is very much taken, and it’s not what he thinks, but there’s this undertone to the text that I can’t ignore. It’s almost like he’s jealous. But Heath doesn’t get jealous. Not when someone does better than him on a test, not when I told him I was moving to France for the summer and he replied telling me how his parents were moving him to Daytona. Not ever.

And if he’s jealous, I wonder if that means … he has feelings for me.

It’s a long shot, I think. Or maybe it’s not. But before I can talk myself out of it, I send a FaceTime request his way, hoping that I can gain something from a real chat with him.

He answers, but Diana’s face floods the screen.

“Reese!” she shouts, a little drunkenly. “How are you? I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you—Heath hasn’t shut the fuck up about you and your friends all summer.”

I laugh nervously and talk with her a bit about my summer in Paris, and what they’ve been up to tonight. I keep waiting for Heath to pop his head in, and she must notice my distraction, because she finally says, “Oh god, you’re looking for Heath. Let me go find him. He’s going to be so happy to see you.”

She flips to the front-facing camera and pans the party crowd. It seems like one hell of a party: loud music, plenty of booze, and a beach fire. She walks around calling his name, and for the briefest moment, I find his silhouette next to the fire. Of course he’s by the fire.

“Heath, you got a phone call!” Diana slurs, but he doesn’t turn.

She walks closer, and the phone shakes with every footstep, but as he comes into view, I see that he’s not alone. He’s with another boy, and their mouths are pressed tightly against each other.

And I get to see my worst nightmare play out in front of my eyes.





CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

GABRIEL

There’s a special kind of hell you fall into when someone you’re just starting to date meets someone you’ve hooked up with. When I got Sal settled in my room, Matt just kind of lingered outside. I didn’t get much information from Sal, other than that he was going through a rough time, but I couldn’t fully focus because the whole time I was just thinking Matt knows Sal has seen me naked on repeat. Funny how our brains work. And by funny I mean fucking awful.

Now, after the most awkward fifteen minutes of my life, Matt gives me a long hug outside his dorm room. There’s a silent desperation in how he clings to me, and I want to promise him that what Sal and I had is in the past, but I feel the past clinging to me like condensation on a glass of water. He’s everywhere around me; he’s my relief and my protection.

“Is he going to be okay?” Matt asks. “He seemed really stressed.”

I nod. “His internship wasn’t going very well. I think he just needed a break. I let him know he could visit whenever, and I guess he’s cashing in on that. But please, don’t worry.”

His eyes are uncertain, but I feel his tension lighten when I give him one last hug.

I leave without giving him the chance to kiss me good night, and I wonder if he’ll read into that. I wonder if I should read into that. When I open my door, Sal’s sitting on my bed, curled up against the wall, and he’s looking embarrassed.