Golden Boys (Golden Boys, #1)(65)

He hesitates. “I actually haven’t shown him yet. I will, but it has to be perfect first. No offense to Emily, but Reese’s designs are professional level, at this point. And I’m still learning how to use the illustration pen.”

“Mine are not professional level,” I say with a laugh. “Ask literally anyone in class. I can’t wait to see yours, though. I loved where you were going with it before.”

“So how is your project?” Philip asks, and I see that he’s trying to dig into my issues.

I’ve told him about Heath. About fire. So I answer in a language only he and I will understand:

“I think … I’ve lost my inspiration.”

HEATH

Diana’s a mess, as expected. Jeanie thankfully left to oversee the deep clean of the arcade—something she has to deal with after every holiday, apparently—which leaves Diana, alone, moaning dramatically in her room.

I open the door, and the smell of sweet, stale alcohol hits my nose.

“Oh my god, you smell like a box of Franzia,” I say. “Here.”

There was a Dunkin’ on the path back, and by now I know Diana’s preferred hangover food: one maple doughnut, one strawberry doughnut, and an iced coffee roughly the size of her body.

“One, how are you able to function?” She takes a bite of her maple doughnut. “Two, how the hell did you remember my Dunkin’ order? You are literally the best cousin who has ever existed.”

I sit on the bed as she devours the doughnuts and sucks down her drink.

“You didn’t get any?” she asks.

“Oh, I ordered your hangover special too, but there was no way my two doughnuts were going to make the six-minute walk back untouched. You’re lucky I didn’t break into yours.”

After the doughnuts are gone and the rush of caffeine and sugar starts to hit, she sits up in bed. There’s a lot weighing her down right now, and I feel like it’s not just the hangover. Like, the silly side of Diana has left the building.

“We need to talk about you and Cole last night,” she says, and my mind starts racing, wondering if I crossed some sort of line.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I don’t know why that happened.”

“Don’t apologize?” she says like it’s a question. “You two were horny and drunk and that’s what happens at parties. Hell, I’ve made out with Cole at parties. And Ashlee. At the same time.”

I blush, but I feel a little grateful that what I did wasn’t exactly out of line.

“Have you talked to Reese today?” she asks, and his name sends a dagger through my heart. “He FaceTimed you yesterday, after you left your phone on the chair and started talking to Cole. I answered, and we talked, and I went looking for you.”

She stops, and my heart aches, because there’s only one way this story ends.

“I turned the camera toward the fire, because I knew you were around there, and I thought it’d be cute if you looked at the phone from afar and got all excited about seeing his face on there. But … your face was occupied.”

I pat myself down for my phone, and I realize I’ve left it in my room. I stand slowly, and turn, and I can’t really think of the words to say.

“I really fucked this up. Fuck.” I pull at my hair. “This is, like, the one time I just did something because I wanted to. The one time I didn’t overthink it. And there was a fucking camera on me.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Diana says.

“You don’t know Reese,” I say, and walk out of the room.

REESE

“It’s all over,” I say when I get to our usual café table, two espressos in hand. I hand one to Philip. “It took years to get to where we were at before this summer fucked it all up. Before I fucked it up. He was always right there for me. He’s kind and thoughtful and perfect to everyone, but it was like overdrive for us. The way he would come give me a huge, dirty, sweaty hug after his baseball games, even in front of the whole team. How he’d always take side roads when he was driving me home, just so we could spend a few more minutes in his truck together. And I was just waiting for the ‘right’ time to say something.”

“I know how it looks, but let’s remember that it was three in the morning and he was drunk. It’s not like this new guy’s going to be coming to his baseball games next year. I’m not up-to-date on your country’s geography, but when I went to Disney World I’m pretty sure that wasn’t anywhere near Ohio.”

I look past him. “But how did they get there so quickly? We’ve been so close for a decade, but they have six weeks together and that’s enough for a drunken make out? I thought Heath was just timid, but apparently not.”

He pauses to let me panic, taking small sips of his espresso, then says plainly:

“It doesn’t sound like a real relationship, Reese. It’s just convenient; it’s just easy. In my experience, it’s much harder to go from friends to lovers than it is to go from strangers to lovers. If that makes sense.”

“Was Emily your friend first?” I ask, and he nods.

“Going from friends to more felt impossible. Because I really didn’t want to mess up what we had as friends. And I guess I really could have messed it up. But at a certain point, my friendship with her was solely rooted in how much I wanted a relationship with her, and that didn’t seem particularly healthy either.”