Following the Rules (The Script Club 1) - Page 53

I held my breath. “What do you mean?”

He pursed his lips and opened his mouth to speak just as our server approached the table. He declined dessert and asked for the check, which she supplied on the spot. He thanked her, then turned to me again.

And in that brief window, I realized he wanted to make this as painless as possible but didn’t quite know how. Somehow, I had to step up, be a big boy, and help us get through this with minimal to zero drama.

I watched him pull a few twenties from his wallet. I always offered to pay my share and he always refused. It was part of our dance. I didn’t trust my voice, though, so I thanked him quietly, and moved quickly to the gated exit.

“Hey, slow down.” Simon met me on the sidewalk and grasped my elbow. “Where did you park?”

“This way.” I stepped aside for a jogger as I led him toward the corner, giving an occasional nod or grunt while Simon filled me in on his phone call with his agent.

“…and a preliminary chat about eligibility. When I was released, my contract was paid in full, so eligibility isn’t an issue. I’m sure they won’t offer me more than a year or two. I suppose that’s fine. I didn’t set out to be a journeyman, but if I want to get on the field again, I’ll have to lower my expectations. Truth is, I’ll probably sit on the bench most of the time. So much for landing on a cereal box,” he joked.

“Hmm.” I stopped in front of my car parked on a side street off Fair Oaks under a tree, tilting my chin toward the canopy of gold autumn leaves above us.

Simon followed my gaze. “Are you going to say anything?”

“I’m happy for you. I am.”

“Baby…look at me.” He pulled his sunglasses off and gently caressed my jaw until I met his eyes.

Which, of course, was when the first tear fell.

“I’m sorry. I just…”

Simon wiped it away, then pulled me hard against his chest. “Hey, nothing changes, baby. Nothing. We can still be us. We can make this work.”

I pushed out of his hold and sucked in a cleansing breath. And because I knew this might be the last time I had the right to do this, I placed my hands on his face and fused my mouth to his, willing my senses to take over and memorize every beautiful detail of him…of us. Tears welled and blurred my vision again, but I blinked them away and swallowed around the lump of emotion lodged in my throat.

“Simon, it’s okay. I won’t make this hard. I understand. It was always going to be this way.”

He frowned. “Maybe that was what we thought, but things changed, and we have to adjust. That’s all.”

“Adjustment requires a slight alteration in appearance or fit to achieve something more desirable. I don’t see a scenario where this applies to us. We exist in a bubble. No one knows about us, Si. What they know is a half-truth. The whole truth is…complicated. My life is here, yours is on the football field somewhere or at the beach. And there’s a big elephant in the room that you’ve never really addressed. You aren’t out, and before you say that doesn’t matter—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said sharply.

“I’m gay, Simon. I’ve been out my whole life. I wouldn’t know how to fake straight, and I wouldn’t try. You…you’ll come out when you’re ready.” I licked my lips nervously when they trembled, hoping to avoid any more waterworks. “Or maybe you’ll meet a nice girl and—”

“Stop it.”

“You might. And I’ll wish you happiness,” I choked. “I’ll wish you success. I’ll wish you good fortune and wisdom and I’ll wish…I’ll always wish it could be me. But it can’t.”

He stared at me for a long moment, then set his sunglasses on his nose. “Are you saying we’re over? Are you saying there’s no chance for us?”

I couldn’t respond. I was seconds away from losing it. My chest hurt, my heart ached. I bit the inside of my cheek until I nearly drew blood and sniffed loudly.

“I don’t want you to be sad. I don’t want you to worry about me. We’ll both be okay. We’ll just be different.”

“Topher…wait.”

I didn’t wait. I hurried to the car. I needed tissues and a quiet place to have a major breakdown. I checked my rearview mirror as I pulled away from the curb and spotted him watching me. He looked…devastated.

My impulse was to fix this somehow, but there was nothing to fix.

We’d simply run out of time.

Ten minutes later, I parked behind a senior citizen van idling in front of my parents’ house. I didn’t want to go home and risk running into one of my friends. They knew me too well. They’d ask what was wrong and I’d have to lie. Again. I was tired of lying.

Tags: Lane Hayes The Script Club Romance
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