“Oh, yeah. I think I heard them.”
“Well, after their epic sex fest, they got into a huge fight. I can’t believe Evan didn’t tell you about it. He helped Amanda and Mitch get them separate rides home.”
“Oh. I didn’t see Evan after I got home last night. I passed out pretty fast,” I lied.
Chelsea lifted her brows. “Really? You look like you got less sleep than me. I got four hours. You?”
“Same.”
“Hmph. Well, a lot of weird things happened last night.” She held up her hand and counted down the weirdness manually. “Rory and Jenna, Greg Michaels puking in my neighbor’s bushes, Amanda flirting with your new teammate and then making moves on Evan.”
“She did? Why? He wouldn’t go out with her. Ever,” I said emphatically. “Amanda doesn’t even like Evan. Why would she—”
“To make you jealous. Why else? She wants you to see what you gave up.”
“That’s crazy.”
“But true. So tell me why you dragged my ass out of bed before noon on a Sunday,” Chelsea said, tapping her nails on the table.
I swallowed hard and leaned forward. It took me another few seconds to find my voice and when I did, it was weak at best. “I got kinda drunk last night and did something and…”
Damn. I couldn’t say it out loud. I buried my head in my hands and stared at the scratch marks on the table and willed myself to pull it together.
Chelsea set her hand on my bicep. “Der, you’re a good guy. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. I’d offer to guess but my brain isn’t functioning yet and—”
“I kissed Gabe,” I blurted.
She stilled her hand and then pulled away. I immediately decided that was all I could share. I wasn’t ready for anything else. Those three words took everything out of me. I looked up, hoping like hell I hadn’t made a mistake trusting her with this.
Chelsea seemed like the perfect confidante. She’d become one of my best friends in college over the past four years. She was open-minded, smart, adventurous, and her interest in sports gave her an appreciation for my world, even though she’d never played water polo. And she was completely uninhibited when it came to sexuality. A few months ago, she told me a raunchy story involving sex with two girls from her Women’s Studies class. Until then, I’d had zero clue she swung both ways.
Then again, I had no idea I did either. Okay, not true. I’d known I was attracted to men too. I’d just hoped it would go away.
“Gabe,” she repeated incredulously, pulling her sunglasses off. “You kissed Gabe?”
“Yeah. I did,” I admitted, braving a glance at her.
Chelsea’s eyes widened as one corner of her mouth curled in a smile that quickly took over her whole face. She held her hand up for a high five and chortled merrily when I ripped off my glasses and glared.
“Why are you leaving me hanging?”
“Because this isn’t funny. I did something I can’t undo, and I have to see him at fucking practice tomorrow!” I hissed.
“All right, all right. Give me the whole scoop. I’m suddenly very happy I picked up your text message at the ass crack of dawn.”
“It was nine a.m.,” I corrected before launching into a brief synopsis of the scene in my bathroom a mere twelve hours ago. I only shared the kiss. The rest was mine. I couldn’t talk about what I hadn’t fully processed. I traced the rim of my to-go cup as I wrapped up my story with a dramatic sigh. “I don’t know how I’m going to get through tomorrow.”
“You’re going to be fine. I admit, I’m…shocked. But I think it’s totally cool,” she gushed.
“How is it cool? Do you realize how awkward I’ve made my entire last season of water polo? I had to get this off my chest before I suffocated. I don’t know what it means or if it means anything at all or—”
“Pull yourself together, Der. It just means you kissed a guy.”
“Yeah, but am I gay or bi, or was I curious in the heat of a drunken moment? It might take some getting used to, and maybe I’d be fine with any scenario…but why Gabe?”
“Why not Gabe? He’s dreamy,” she sighed in a swoony tone before continuing. “Don’t ask yourself what silly label you need now. The better question is…did you like it?”
I hesitated for a beat, then picked up my coffee and set it down again. “Yeah, I did. And he did too.”
“How do you know?”
“He kissed me back.”
“Did he kiss you like he meant it and enjoyed it?”
“Definitely. I just wish I knew what came next,” I sighed.
“Der, look at me.” Chelsea waited for me to comply, reaching for my hand and lacing our fingers together. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Stop freaking out. Talk to him after practice to clear the air, but quit torturing yourself. You’re both adults. Do the right thing. Get the conversation over with and see where it leaves you. You might just get a boyfriend out of all this.”