Micah Johnson Goes West (Get Out, #2)(23)

He hoped they were just exaggerating. He didn’t want it to get any worse than it already was.

A message came through from Will. It was a surprise, as he hadn’t heard from Will Deanes for a while, but it was a pleasant one. Although they hadn’t gotten off to the best start in their friendship—that would happen when one was cyberbullying you, then punched you out when you called him out on it—things had improved as Will started to inch his way out of the closet and become more comfortable with himself.

Hey. Just wanted to congratulate you on your first game. And your first goal! First of many.

Thanks, Micah wrote back. How are you going?

Not too bad. Playing some footy with the minor leagues, hoping to get my shot at some point down the line.

You’ll do it. And then, thank fuck, I won’t be the only gay in the big leagues.

They chatted a bit more about their respective teams, and how things were going at school now Micah had left and Mardi was in sole charge of the Gay Straight Alliance. Micah had really only been a perfunctory member as it had started a few months before he was drafted. Will was now stepping into his shoes. As they texted their good-byes, a message came through from Kyle.

Are you still feeling up to meeting today?

I’m sure I could make time for you, Micah responded.

Are you staying at your parents’?

Yep.

The response was fast and furious. Cool. Pick you up at four.

Micah smiled to himself as he put his phone back on the table.

“What’s that look for?” Joanne asked. She had just entered with an empty coffee cup to place in the sink, which she did noisily, jolting Micah out of his reverie.

“I’m meeting Kyle for coffee later.”

“Oh.”

He rolled his eyes. “What’s that for?”

His mum sat down opposite him, concern in her eyes. He briefly wanted to scratch them out, and hated himself immediately. “It’s just… do you think that’s a good idea?”

“We’re both adults.”

“Barely,” Joanne reminded him.

“It’s coffee, Mum. I just want to catch up with him.”

“And what if you still feel the same way about him? It might make you even more miserable.”

Micah smirked, and even he could tell it was in no way pleasant. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“I hate hearing you say that. Are you that unhappy?”

Micah fixed a smile on his face to make her drop the subject. “I’m just being melodramatic. All I’m going to do is say hi, and have a decent coffee which is so much easier to find here than it is back west.”

His mum looked a little more relieved. “You snob. That’s your home now.”

Don’t remind me. But he didn’t say it. He would never be able to escape the kitchen and start getting ready.

“And what about what happened yesterday?”

Micah shrugged. “Let’s just worry about today for now.”




HE MET Sam and Daril and a couple of the other guys for lunch. They were heading back to Perth that afternoon, whereas other Melbournites like Micah were allowed one extra day with their families. And as much as he tried to socialise and seem amiable to everybody else, his mind was only on one thing: Kyle.

A live wire driving home, he was still buzzing as he ran up the hall and into his room. He immediately started stripping off, and looked appraisingly at himself in the mirror. Not to be too vain, but he was way more fit than he was last time Kyle saw him naked. His abs were developing abs. Professional footballing made what had seemed like a fit body in high school comparable to when he was eleven and still in Auskick.

He no longer had the body of a teenage boy. His shoulders had broadened, and he had packed on muscle—but the lean muscle of an AFL player, not the mass of a rugby man.

His small tuft of hair was starting to spread across his chest as well. He hoped it would grow thicker. Too many of the guys he played with waxed—some did it because of having to be taped up with their injuries so it would be easier to remove—others just because it was the in thing. Micah hoped for more just so he could look a bit older and less like the rookie. Plus it would give Kyle something to run his hands through as they— Micah flushed, and was embarrassed by what he saw in his reflection. He covered himself in a towel, but that did nothing to disguise it.

He was actually admiring himself in the mirror. For fuck’s sake. Maybe Emma was right—getting drafted had gone to his head. He would probably be preening in one of those sports calendars next. Well, why not? It was for charity after all. And it would give him something to look back at with bitter nostalgia when he was a washed up forty-year-old with a beer gut. Micah turned back to the mirror with a grin and flexed his arm, marvelling at the beauty of muscles that hadn’t been visible before.

“You fucking show pony,” he laughed, and flounced away to the shower.




MICAH WAS tying up his shoes when he heard the doorbell ring. As much as he tried to beat her to the door Joanne got there first, and so he heard Kyle before he actually got to see him. He was exchanging pleasantries with Micah’s mum, and she was saying how good it was to see him again.

Geez, Mum. He’s my boyfriend, not yours.

Shit. That thought stopped him right in his tracks. What a slip of the tongue! Or brain.