Following the Rules (The Script Club 1) - Page 55

“That’s sweet.”

Gran smiled and patted my hand. “I don’t know about that, but I’ll tell you something, my dear. I saw the way Simon looked at you. He cares…quite a bit, I think. You took the chance. The rest is up to him.”

10

Simon

What do you do when you get what you want, and you don’t want it anymore?

I should have been on cloud nine. Instead, I felt like I’d been robbed. Like I’d been given something special, then had it taken away. I was moody, sad, angry, and unsure. I didn’t know what to do with myself or who I should tell. Funny enough, I didn’t feel like talking about it. So, I went to my parents’ house, changed my clothes, put my sneakers on, blasted heavy metal on my EarPods, and ran…and ran. I let the loud music and the sound of my feet hitting the pavement drown the doubts and misgivings.

This wasn’t how I’d envisioned my return to the game. In fact, I couldn’t even fucking think about the game. Just Topher.

The look on his face broke me in two. Joy for me, sorrow for us. He said we’d be okay but different. I didn’t want to ask what he meant ’cause I couldn’t bear to hear him tell me we’d always be friends. That wasn’t enough. I wanted him too.

Jesus, I was a greedy bastard.

I had no idea how long I’d been gone, but I returned to a full house. Both parents were home…and George.

Damn, I didn’t want to talk to George. I just needed to grab my workout bag from my room, say a quick hello to the folks, and get the fuck out. I’d have more than enough time to lick my wounds and think about my next move on the drive to Malibu.

I slipped by the kitchen undetected and headed for the stairs, skipping the squeaky ones near the landing before heading to my old room and—

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked, furrowing my brow.

George jolted and spun away from the closet with his hand over his heart. “Christ. Give a guy a warning, would ya?”

I pulled my sweaty tee over my head and dug around my duffel for a clean one. “Well?”

“I need a baseball cap for a Halloween costume, and I know you have twenty in your room. This should work.” He waved a Dodgers cap. “Can I borrow one?”

“Sure.” I gave him a dubious once-over. “You’re going to a party dressed as a baseball player?”

“Fuck, no. I’m a Victorian vampire, a goth-punk vampire, and the grim reaper. It’s for Holden. He mentioned it earlier, so I stopped by the house and—the better question is, what the fuck are you doing here?” He fell onto the bed, his mop of hair covering his eyes for a moment until he tilted his head toward me.

I rubbed my temple as if warding off a headache, then perched my ass on my old desk. “I, um…got some news. My agent called. I’m supposed to fly to Denver this weekend.”

“That’s good, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Congratulations. I’m surprised Mom isn’t making a feast and Dad isn’t following you around asking a gazillion sporty questions. Or do they know?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“Not yet. You’re the first. Well, you’re the second.” I fixated on the row of trophies on the shelf and sighed.

“What’s the matter? You don’t seem happy.”

“I’m happy.” That was mostly true. At least, I’d been happy until Ryan called. “What would you think if I told you I didn’t want to go?”

“You don’t?”

I pursed my lips and met my brother’s watchful gaze. “No, I don’t.”

“Why not?”

Fuck, he was too damn smart, and I was too damn tired of living a half-truth. “A couple of reasons. I don’t really want to end up in the hospital again, and I don’t think I want to sit on a bench either.”

“They pay bench-warmers well, don’t they?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t seen the contract. But that’s not it. I don’t care about the money.”

“Who says that?” he huffed in amusement. “Think of all the Dodger caps you could buy if you—hey, what is it? You’re being weird.”

I nodded like a demented puppet and paced into the room. “Yeah, I know. Look, I have to tell you something. You might get pissed, but…something happened. With Topher and me.”

George furrowed his brow. “What? What do you mean? I saw him this morning. He was fine.”

“Nothing’s wrong with him.”

“Spit it out.”

“I’m bi.”

Wow.

Two words. Me and who I was. A confession, a revelation, a truth.

It was easier to say than I imagined. The truth didn’t feel heavy. It was the opposite. It felt light. It slipped into the room, brightening corners and lifting dark blinds.

I braved a glance at my brother, who’d gone suspiciously silent.

“Wait up. You’re bi and…you and Topher are what?”

“Well…”

“Don’t speak. I can figure it out. I had a feeling you were bi, but…Topher? I trusted you, damn it. You cannot fucking mess with Topher, Simon. Not him,” he growled, hopping off the bed.

Tags: Lane Hayes The Script Club Romance
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