“Same.”
“And I want to go out in public with you. Hold your hand in the dining hall. Walk you to classes when I can. Kiss you goodbye after sports psych.”
“All of those are acceptable terms.”
“Then I have really bad news for you.”
“Bad news?”
“It kinda sounds like we’re boyfriends …”
“B-boyfriends? I’ve never had one of those before.”
I snort. “Neither have I. Not an official one or anything.”
Zach’s face lights up. “Wait … are you saying I’ve taken one of your firsts? That’s so backward for us.”
“It is backward for us.”
Zach leans in to kiss me. It’s chaste but sweet. Then he settles again and lets out a content sigh. “Okay, that was all. You can go back to sleep now.”
Only I can’t.
Because I remember my promise to my brother.
I’ve always used the excuse of not being serious about a guy to avoid coming out to Mom and Dad.
And I know it has always been just that—an excuse. Something easy to hide behind.
It’s long past time I told them, and I know it has to happen sooner or later, but I was kinda hoping for it to be way later. Like, at my wedding, maybe.
Hey, Mom and Dad, did I forget to tell you I was marrying a dude? Oops. Happy wedding day to me!
“Are you okay?” Zach’s voice is small. “Is boyfriends too much for you? Your entire body’s tense all of a sudden.”
“How did you come out to your parents?”
“Oh. Uh, you should see photos of me when I was five and wearing my mother’s heels and dresses. I know that doesn’t have anything to do with sexuality, but when I told my mom I’m gay, she wasn’t shocked. Dad went quiet, but he has accepted it in his own way.”
Maybe that’s the issue. That I don’t think my parents expect it of me. I haven’t hinted, haven’t joked, haven’t really addressed it at all.
When they’ve come to my games, I’ve half-hoped they’d overhear something about it so I wouldn’t have to tell them.
I want them to know, but I don’t know how to explain it fully.
“Are you thinking about telling your parents?”
“Have been thinking about it for six years.”
“Oh. Well, you don’t have to do it for me. Just so you know.”
“Thanks, but this isn’t about that. It’s more about wondering if there’s ever going to be a right time. Would you be okay with me telling them about us?”
“Completely, but again, you really don’t have to. At least not for my sake. It’s a big step, and it has to be harder for you than it was for me.”
“Because I’m an athlete?”
He chuckles. “No, because you’re not gay. Gay is simple. Straight is simple. Bi is seen as more complicated than it needs to be.”
“Exactly!”
“If it makes you feel any better, there are more bi people than gay and lesbian people combined, but only about twenty-six percent come out. According to stats anyway.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better. Like, at all.”
“Stats always make me happy.”
“Yeah, but when you point out that only twenty-six percent of bi people come out because the rest of the world can’t be bothered to educate themselves on what being bi means … it’s shitty.”
“Sorry. It was supposed to make you feel not so alone.”
I kiss the top of his head. “Thanks for trying.”
“If you do want to come out and want support or whatever, I can go with you. Or, I mean, Seth would too. You’re closer with him, so it’d make more sense—”
Leaning in, I capture his rambling mouth with my lips. “I’ll think about it.”
But honestly, throwing it in the to do later basket is much more appealing.
26
Zach
“Foster …”
He grunts but doesn’t look away from the laptop on the desk in front of him.
“Foster …” I roll onto my back on the bed, sliding his shirt up over my stomach. Since I discovered his fascination with my superhero underwear, they’re basically all I wear when we’re alone, which is more and more lately. “Ironman wants to say hello.”
That gets him. His lips twitch up at the sides, but with willpower as impressive as his hockey skills, he keeps his eyes on the screen.
I slide from the bed and cross to his desk chair. Foster automatically pushes back, and I climb into his lap before he slides us both closer to his desk. His lips brush my hair as I tuck my face into his neck.
“Almost done,” he says.
“Well, I’m going to start sucking on your neck, and if you end up with another hickey that’s on you.”
His laugh is low and rumbly against my chest. “The guys are starting to give me shit. I’m not sure I’ll survive another one.”
I hide my smile against his shoulder. The thought of his team teasing him over me awakens something similar to how I feel when he’s being all claimy. Dating Foster has been something I never knew I wanted, and I’m a little terrified about what happens when this ends. I’ve always been sure of things, but having something this out of my control is unnerving. “I could potentially suck on something else …”