Rules of Play (The Script Club 2)

However, Hank was a very insignificant blip in my current mental meltdown. I had bigger problems to solve. I slowed at the red light on Lake and Colorado and glanced at a new text from Simon.

You’re just the man I need. Come over and help me string some lights in the backyard. I have beer.

Not smart. Simon was the one person I needed to avoid tonight. Right? I didn’t know. He was my best friend. That wasn’t going to change. But if it was going to, it might be a good idea to find out now.

I sent a thumbs-up emoji, turned left, and hoped for the best.

“Topher wants the lights to cross in the middle over the patio set. I think.” Simon scratched his head. “Let me call him to make sure. I don’t want to redo this.”

“Good thinking.”

I shamelessly eavesdropped as I tightened the bulbs on the strand to give my hands something to do. Their conversation wasn’t particularly exciting. I’d already learned that Simon was fond of the word “babe” and didn’t think twice about telling his boyfriend he loved him in front of other people. Si was happy, and he didn’t care who knew he was building his life with a man. This was their home, their yard, their beginning.

The pang of jealousy hit me like a rogue punch in the stomach. I frowned and busied myself hanging my side of the wire over the post closest to me.

“Yep. Topher wants it to crisscross,” Simon said, slipping his phone into his pocket.

“Where is he?”

“He’s with his friends. They’re making dinner and studying for finals. And…Asher wanted him to meet the new roomie candidate to take Toph’s place now that he’s shackin’ up with me.” Simon waggled his brows lasciviously. “I guess George didn’t show up, but his SUV did. Something about a battery. Did he call you about it?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks, man. You must be tired of that fuckin’ Bronco by now.” Simon hung his end of the lights and stepped aside to eye his handiwork.

“No, not at all.”

Simon grunted absently as he grabbed a beer from the patio table and handed it to me.

Just when I was afraid my tone had given me away, he changed the subject. “How’s the interview process going?”

“Pretty good.”

“That’s it? Pretty good? Gimme details,” he cajoled.

“I will when I have something concrete, but I think I’m closing in on something and…” I broke off and stared into space, suddenly at a loss for words. “I’ll owe you for this one.”

He snorted. “Fuck, no, you don’t. I have no sway over any athletic director or coach’s decision. I’m just a mutual contact. Gotta network in life, Aiden. It’s the only way to get anywhere. Besides, you helped George and—”

“No.” I sipped my beer to bide myself some time, then set the bottle on the table. “George and I had our own deal. Separate from you.”

“Baseball stats. I remember. Did he actually watch a game with you?”

“Yeah, quite a few.”

“Really? I can’t believe that wasn’t torture. For you,” he joked.

I shook my head. “No, I’d watch baseball with him any day. Or a scary movie or…anything.”

He lifted his brows in amusement. “Anything? You really do have a thing for George, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I replied, hating that my voice hitched.

“Bro-crushes are normal, man. I was thinking about—”

“It’s not a bro-crush, Si.”

“What is it?” He chuckled as he lifted his beer to his lips.

“It’s…more. Much, much more.”

Simon went still, then slowly set his bottle on the table next to mine. “Keep talking.”

“I’m…very attracted to him.”

“To my brother.” He enunciated every syllable as if unsure he was hearing correctly.

“Yes.”

“Like…attracted attracted?”

“Yeah, Si…attracted times two. Or ten. Or a million.”

“You and George.” He ran his hand over his stubbled jaw and frowned. “I don’t know what to say. He knows, right?”

“For fuck’s sake! Of course, he knows. I’m telling you that we’ve been seeing each other and—”

“Got it.” He held up his hand and shook his head in disbelief. “I think I’m supposed to kick your ass right now. That’s my brother we’re talking about, dickweed.”

“I know who he is. I know him very well.”

Simon put his hands over his ears and paced the length of the table and back. “Lalalala. I don’t want specifics. But I do want to know why you look like your puppy got run over. Is everything…okay?”

“No, everything is complicated. I’m over my skis here, but he’s important to me and I just need…”

“Permission?”

“No,” I said sharply. “I’m not asking for permission. But I wanted you to know. And I wanted…to say it out loud to someone I think will understand. I wanted to know how it feels.”

Understanding dawned across Simon’s face. He nodded slowly. “Then say it.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I swallowed hard and tried again.

“I’m bi.”

Simon cocked his head. “Cool. Was that hard to say?”