Hostile(63)

He sniffs again and then plasters an unconvincing smile on his face. “I know. I was kidding, okay? It was a joke. I know we can’t do that.”

I cup the back of his neck with my hand and pull his face to mine, resting our foreheads against each other's. “I would.” If . . .

“I know,” he breathes. “Maybe someday.”

He pulls away and looks into my eyes with pleading. I nod. Because I can give him that. “Yeah. Maybe.”

He grins a little wider now and then presses his lips against mine for a brief kiss before he climbs into the Uber. I stand in the drive, watching and unable to move.

A few moments later, Bree and Fletch join me in the driveway, both of them laying their heads on my shoulders. “Don’t let him go, Rhett.” Bree’s voice is soft and sweet.

“He’s already gone.”

I feel the shake of her head against my shoulder. “You can go with him.”

I smile. “Eavesdropping?”

She shrugs. “He wanted you to go.”

“I can’t.”

She shoves away from me, her eyes full of pity and sadness. “Why? You love him. He clearly loves you. Why not be together?”

Fletch lifts his head off my shoulder and then grips it with one hand in a comforting squeeze. “I gotta agree.”

I shake my head, also agreeing but still having to say no. “He’s not out, and he can’t be out. I’d be his secret. I can’t do that.”

Bree scoffs, which is weird because I thought she’d understand. “I loved you for so long in secret.” My eyes widen in surprise, and Fletch only looks amused before she continues, “I loved you, and you didn’t love me back. And that’s fine, but damn it, Rhett. To have the person you love, love you back? That’s such an amazing gift.”

“He couldn’t love me out loud, Bree. Do you honestly think if I’d loved you back but told you no one else could know about it, you’d have been fine?”

She seems to think that over for a while, and I think I have her. But then her head moves slowly from side to side, and she places one hand on her hip. “I think it would have been worth it to have a mutual, beautiful love. Yes.”

Fletch looks uncomfortable, but he doesn’t say anything, probably not wanting to choose a side.

“I can’t do it, Bree. He has plans I won’t ruin, but I also can’t be his kept boy, hiding from the world. I’d rather be alone than someone’s secret.”

Her eyes are full of tears as she hugs me tightly. “You’re an idiot.”

I laugh. “So I’ve heard.”

I feel her smile against my chest, and then Fletcher wraps his big-ass arms around both of us for a great big, sibling bear hug.

I have a nagging feeling in the back of my mind telling me I should go after him. That maybe Bree’s right, and we could work it out. But in the end, I know what I did was right.

I had to let him go.





FORTY-TWO





It’s been a month since Grayson left, and I’m becoming used to my role at Hostile Ink. All the employees are awesome, including Kole. Today, a new chick started, who’s pretty experienced with tattoos—watercolor tattoos being her specialty—and everyone around here has been buzzing about her.

The shop is slow when she asks for my opinion on one of her sketches, and I sit next to her in the breakroom. “I like it,” I say, and she smiles.

She’s pretty, with dark-red, dyed hair, a cute stud piercing in her nose, and tattoos up and down her arms. “Thanks. I think it’s growing on me.” Her eyes are green with a little gold striations that sparkle when she smiles. “I’m Josie, by the way.”

“Yeah, I know.” Kole introduced her around the shop earlier today. “I’m Rhett.”

She smiles and then goes back to sketching. “I know. The cute, broody one in the back.” She grins which pops her dimples I’m just noticing.

“I’m not broody.”

She laughs at that and then shrugs, her eyes meeting mine again. “Well, I am most of the time. So I get it.”

“Why are you broody?” I say, making casual conversation.

“My girlfriend broke up with me a couple of weeks ago. It’s getting better. But believe me, a few days ago, I was still a raging bitch.”

I thought she was flirting with me for a second there, and I have to admit, I feel a little relief when she says she had a girlfriend. Not that she’s not pretty, and I’m sure she’s really cool—but my mind is still completely on a certain goofy, gorgeous jock. “I’m sorry about your girlfriend. What happened?” Realizing I probably shouldn’t have asked that, I quickly add, “If you feel like talking about it.”

She laughs at that and waves off my awkwardness. “I’m pretty much an open book, which she hated. She’s a private person—which is totally fine, but so not me.”

“That’s why you broke up?”

She shrugs, her smile turning slightly sour as she goes back to her sketch. “Kind of. Her biggest problem is I’m pansexual, and she couldn’t stand it.”

I frown. “Why would that matter if you’re with her?”

“Exactly.” She gestures widely at that. “I was with her, so it shouldn’t have mattered. But she was also really possessive, which I just can’t take. I had a boyfriend like that once too. They couldn’t understand—just because I’m open to being with someone, regardless of their gender or identity—if I’m in a relationship, they’re who I want.”