Golden Boys (Golden Boys, #1)(66)

“That makes sense. But I still feel like shit. And I don’t know how to even be friends with him after this, and I feel like such a dick for saying that.”

“It’s okay to be hurt,” he says plainly. “But your being hurt by something doesn’t mean Heath did anything wrong. Try to keep that separated, and I think you’ll eventually find your way through this.”

“Emily should be all unpacked now,” I say. “So we better get back. I’m glad she suggested you come chat with me. I feel like that’s not something you do if you’re, I don’t know, worried.”

“She’s come around and apologized,” he says. “I think being apart was hard on her, so it unleashed all these weird insecurities she didn’t know she had.”

I chuckle, because if there’s one thing I fully get, it’s that.

HEATH

My shift started thirty minutes ago, and I’ve already burned two batches of corn dogs. I haven’t really spoken to Diana since she broke the news. I just want to go home—home home—but I can’t even do that, because Dad’s moving out of the house this week.

When I got here, I was so worried about my family—or lack thereof—and my friendship with Reese and the others. I try not to bury myself in negative thoughts too often, but all my fears really came true. My home is gone, my family is broken, and I’ve fucked things up with my best friend.

I drop another basket of corn dogs, then zone out a bit, staring at the people starting to fill the arcade. The smell of beer hits my nose, which makes me cringe after last night.

“I hate to say this, but maybe you should go home,” Jeanie says with a quiet voice. “I love having your help here, but something’s off today. Even Diana’s on her game, and she’s obviously hungover.”

I look up to Jeanie, and she just laughs. “I can tell these things, especially when y’all come rolling in at six in the morning. But you don’t seem as bad, so I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong.”

“Just a hangover.” I flinch with the lie, but it’s a whole lot easier to explain than what’s really going on. “I thought I was better about hiding it, I guess. I’m really sorry.”

She reaches past me and pulls up a basket of overfried corn dogs and gives a hefty sigh. “Heath, I love you, but you’re killing me tonight.” She gives a defeated laugh. “Go home, okay?”

I walk straight home and turn on the box AC unit to high so I can curl under the covers. I type a message to Reese and delete it again and again, because I can’t find the right words to say. The only words I want to say are the words he’ll never want to hear.

I love you.





CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

GABRIEL

Sal was my past, but now he’s my present. I slip so easily back into what we had before that I almost forget about Matt. But he’s there, in the back of my mind. Every time Sal and I kiss, every time we touch, Matt’s there, and I know this is wrong, but Sal needs me.

And I need him.

“Did you want to grab takeout again?” Sal asks, even though our trash can is full of three days’ worth of takeout. My trash can, I correct myself. He’s taken over the space so fully it’s hard to remember what’s mine anymore.

I don’t get tired of having him in my bed, though. I hold him against me, and I remember how special our relationship is. It heals this homesickness I never even knew I had.

“Maybe I could introduce you to my Boston friends?” I suggest. “They’re doing dinner at the restaurant we usually go to. They have a good chicken parm, though I know Italian’s not your favorite.”

He shrugs. “I don’t really feel like meeting new people.”

I hesitate, thinking about how to respond. Truthfully? I don’t want to sit around while Sal sulks, but god knows he’s had to deal with my sulking for years, so isn’t it fair if I stick around until he’s feeling better?

But then I realize that no matter what, I still need some boundaries. Even back in Ohio, we’d hang out a lot. But never seventy-two hours in a row. That’s a lot.

“Then, do you mind if I go?” I ask. “Without you? We could use an hour apart anyway, and they’re all kind of wondering why I’ve been shut in here.”

He looks up with these sad eyes, and I feel myself start to crumble. He has this power over me, and he has no idea how much it affects me. I start to rescind my suggestion, but I don’t want to back down, so I take a second to collect my thoughts.

“I’m going to the restroom,” I say, and I duck out the door. I breathe easier as I step into the hall. When I reach for the doorknob to the restroom, it suddenly opens, and Matt’s surprised eyes bore right into mine.

“Matt,” I say.

“Gabe.” He looks so uncomfortable, and I know it’s because I haven’t really been responding to him. “How are you? How’s your friend? He still here?”

I read eighteen other questions in between those, and each one is a dagger to my heart. He runs a hand through his coarse hair and puts on a smile, and I feel like melting into the floor.

Pursuing Matt was nice, but I remind myself that it’s not smart. This can’t go anywhere, right? He lives too far away. We could never make something real work between us.