“We’re cool, right?” I sound like a moron. “Like, can we hang out sometime?”
“Of course. I can introduce you to some guys if you like? Give me your phone.” Damon taps in his number and gives it back. “I usually catch up with my friends once a month or so. I can already see a few of them drooling over you. If you’re cool with me telling them about you, that is. I won’t out you to them if you’re not ready.”
My stomach plummets to the floor. I don’t want his friends. I want to do this with him. I force myself to not say that aloud though. He’s made it clear where he stands on the subject. “I don’t mind if you tell them. Although, I don’t know if I’m going to pursue this thing.”
“This thing?”
“The label still feels weird to me.” Logically, I know the bi label fits. But it’s just like going home to PA. My family’s there, I have friends there, being in Pennsylvania makes sense, but that doesn’t mean I fit in there. I wonder if it’s normal to not feel connected to your orientation. It doesn’t freak me out or worry me. It’s just not something I’m comfortable with yet. It doesn’t feel … real.
“Sorry. I’ve gone and pushed you into trying to define it,” Damon says. “When it comes to sexual orientation, to me, it’s either gay, bi, or straight. But not everybody thinks that way, and they don’t have to. That’s my opinion on it. I like being straightforward and fitting into a box, but you should do your own research and identify with whatever feels right. Tell everyone else to fuck off if they don’t like it. Even me.”
I nod. “I’ll work it out.”
“My friends are cool, and we’ve all been through what’s going on in your head. So even if you’re not ready to pursue this thing—as you put it—you can never have too many friends, right?”
“Right. Better than asking Will for advice.”
Damon’s smile lights up his face until a knock at his window almost makes him shit himself. “What the hell?”
Stacy’s grinning face stares down on us. Using the buttons in the center console, I lower Damon’s window.
“Hey, guys,” she says, dragging out her words.
“You’re too happy,” I grumble. “Stop looking at us like that.”
“How did it go?”
With a sigh, I turn off the ignition and exit the car with Damon and then sling my arm around him. “The weekend went extremely well.”
“What, you guys got a bromance going on now?” Stacy asks.
Damon remains stoic, but I can practically feel his internal eye roll.
“Well … actually …” I pull Damon closer.
Stacy’s eyes dart to my hand on Damon’s shoulder and then to my face and back again. I see the exact moment it clicks. I wait for the smile and “Nice try, asshole.” What I don’t expect is—
“Oh shit, are you crying?” I ask. I hate tears. I don’t do tears.
“Is this for real?” Her voice is uncharacteristically quiet, and I have to ask myself if this prank is worth it.
I step forward, about to reassure her, when she flinches back.
“Are you kidding me?” she suddenly yells. “What the hell, Maddox? That’s my brother!” She takes on her high-pitched screech she does when she’s mad.
“Stace—” I start.
But now she’s crying again, and I have no idea what’s going on. Damon stands frozen, and I assume he’s as confused as I am.
“We were … and …” She sucks in a shallow breath as if she’s hyperventilating.
I take her in my arms and hug her, but she doesn’t hug me back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d react this way.”
She pushes me off her. “I’ve been in love with you since college, you idiot. I’ve been waiting and waiting for you to want to settle down, and then you hook up with my brother?”
“No. I mean—wait, what?” I stumble back and hit a hard wall of muscle. Damon grabs my arms to prevent me from falling over my own feet. “You’re … what? You’ve never seen me that way. I don’t …” What the fuck is going on right now?
Stacy sniffles and wipes her nose with the sleeve of her jacket. “The reason I didn’t hook up with you during college is because I knew you’d lose interest as soon as we did. I figured being your friend, when you were ready to take that next step, I’d be the first person you thought of. But I can’t … not if you’ve been with my brother.” Her cries become sobs, and she hangs her head in her hands.
Well, shit. I had no idea she felt that way. We’re friends. We’re awesome friends. I haven’t looked at her like that since we were eighteen. I have no idea how to handle this.
“Stacy,” Damon says through gritted teeth. “Enough.”