UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN

ROOSEVELT COLLEGE

BOOK 2

CHRISTINA LEE

Copyright © 2024 by Christina Lee

All rights reserved.

Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without prior written permission by the author(s), except where permitted by law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All products and/or brand names mentioned are registered trademarks of their respective holders/companies.

Published by Christina Lee in the United States of America

Cover Illustration & Design by Seaj Art

Beta Read by Charity VanHuss & Molly Otto; Additional thanks to Kelley and Amanda

Edited by Keren Reed

Proofread by Lyrical Lines and Abbie Nicole

BLURB

Bruce “Bones” Lanning and Emil Ettinger had a decent roommate arrangement at Roosevelt College—other than Bones leaving his dirty socks lying around—so they agree to share the same space again. Their relationship has always been ridiculous banter and competitive streaks, and they assume this year will be the same.

So why are they suddenly enjoying nights holed up in their room together?

Bones can’t figure out what’s changed, why he likes being around Emil so much, and why he’s suddenly falling asleep in Emil’s bed. And as far as Emil knows, Bones is straight, so why does he seem jealous when Emil arranges a random hookup and then asks all sorts of questions about what it’s like to kiss another guy?

To put an end to his roommate’s endless queries, Emil kisses Bones, convinced he’s just goofing around. But one encounter leads to another until Emil begins seeing Bones in a different light. Underneath the clueless, carefree facade lies a deeper emotional underpinning that allows Emil to become more vulnerable too—and maybe even admit that spending time with his roommate is the best part of his day.

Still, Emil isn’t about to become another jock’s experiment, so he makes it clear that their hookups are totally casual. Until they’re not.

*TW: References to the death of a sibling

PROLOGUE

Bones

Bones

I suppose you were a decent enough roommate, and I’d be cool with keeping the same living arrangement for next year. Don’t make me regret it! It’ll also be nice not to find your socks and underwear all over the fucking room over break. Maybe work on that this summer.

Until we meet again. Dork.

Emil

I didn’t know why I kept reading that stupid note, but it made me smile despite myself. I’d grown to like my roommate at Roosevelt College and would even call him and his band of misfits friends. It was fun when we all hung out. I could admit that, at least.

But Emil and I bickered more than anything else. His competitive streak was worse than mine, and when we started fighting over the controllers in the common area, everyone cleared the room. I hated that he could kick my ass in any racing game, and in Ping-Pong, and…well, in all the games, really.

“Bruce, dinner’s ready,” Mom called from downstairs.

“Be right there.”

I read the note again, homing in on the familiar words—until we meet again. My older brother, Brody, had expressed the same sentiment.

Brody had been an all-star in high school and had gone on to impress coaches in college too. Name a sport, and he played it. He was the apple of my parents’ eye, and after his college graduation, he enlisted in the Army and became a Ranger—because, of course, he would join an elite force.

I still held on to the note he wrote me before he left.

I’ll miss you, Squirt.

Until we meet again.

Despite our six-year age difference, Brody and I had been close and had communicated regularly by email when he was overseas in Afghanistan.

Brody,

Mom’s been a nervous wreck since you got shipped off. Dad, too, though he tries not to show it. It’s like Mom can’t even concentrate. Her mind wanders, and she worries constantly about your safety.

I feel like anything I do lately is a nuisance. Especially to Dad. I know my grades aren’t the best, but it’s not like I don’t try.

Maybe it’ll get easier with time.

B.

His replies always made me feel better—probably because I’d looked up to him as much as my parents did.

Squirt,

Soon enough, you’ll be an adult and out on your own. You’ll be able to live how you want. I certainly do.

Hang in there.

Brody

I couldn’t wait for the day I got my college diploma.

Okay, enough reminiscing. I shoved Emil’s note in my drawer and headed down the steps, pausing in the entryway near the large photo of Brody in his military whites. Underneath the picture frame was a table with a pottery bowl we threw our keys into as we came through the front door. Brody had made it for a Mother’s Day gift in middle school. There were also other things he’d sent her over the years that she’d set up as a sort of shrine to him.

When the doorbell suddenly rang, I jumped.

“Who’s at the door?” Dad asked from the kitchen.

“UPS,” I replied, glancing through the window.

“Answer that, will you?” Mom called.

“On it.” I grabbed the package he’d left on the stoop. I felt lightheaded as another memory came rushing back.

That day, almost five years ago now, I’d opened the door to find men dressed to the nines in military uniforms with patches and medals on their chests that obviously meant something important. My gut had tightened at their somber expressions.

When they told us Brody had lost his life in a helicopter training mission, our whole world shattered, and life had never felt the same again.

Mom became inconsolable, and Dad shut everyone out.

I didn’t know what the hell to do those weeks after, so I’d resorted to emailing Brody one last time to make sure it was real—or who the hell knew the reason why. Maybe because it’d become a habit and living by routine kept us going.

Tears had streamed down my face as I’d typed the words and hit Send.

Brody,

I still can’t believe you’re gone. Writing this at least keeps you alive in my head.

Mom is devastated. We all are.

When your body was flown in, it felt like a nightmare.

Were you really inside that casket with the flag draped over it?

I’ll keep a brave face for you and try not to disappoint Mom and Dad.

And if you’re watching from somewhere like Mom believes, send her a sign or something. Let her know you’re okay.

Maybe it’ll ease the ache I feel dead center in my chest, like it’s been hollowed out.

Until we meet again.

B.

Even knowing deep down that he was truly gone, I was destroyed all over again when there was no response.

But despite that, I continued to update him on my life all through high school. The emails were always returned as undeliverable because his account had been suspended, but for that brief moment after hitting Send, it was almost like he was still there on the other side of the world, listening and offering advice.

Hey, I’m attending Dad’s alma mater, just like you!

The coach is cool, and I made a few friends.

And then more recent ones…

The Sentinels made the playoffs.

We didn’t get to the championship. Maybe next year.

The last time Roosevelt won the state championship was the year Brody was on the team his sophomore year. I wanted to go to the finals my sophomore year so badly. I hoped my parents would see me differently then. See that I’d accomplished something great instead of always being so mediocre.

I tried to be as worthy as Brody for my parents, but it was tough to live up to their idea of a martyr. The only reason I even got into Roosevelt College was because of their legacy admissions. They loved it when generations of families attended the same university. I probably wouldn’t have gotten in on my own otherwise.

“Bruce, we’re waiting!” Dad called in that frustrated tone I was all too familiar with.

“Sorry.” I made my way to the kitchen and placed the package on the counter for my mom, who’d no doubt ordered another kitchen gadget. She loved collecting those.

I sat down across from my parents and dug into my roast beef and mashed potatoes.

“When does football practice start?”

“August,” I replied around a sip of soda. “Same as always.”

Dad nodded. “Plenty of time for a part-time job while you’re home.”

“Already thought of that.”

“Brody used to mow lawns and rake leaves, especially for the elderly neighbors,” Dad said, and I barely kept from rolling my eyes.

If only my parents would stop comparing us. We were different people, after all. I knew they didn’t mean it. They didn’t mean to say Brody this and Brody that whenever they reminisced about those glory days. But it still cut deep.

Mom patted Dad’s hand. “That sounds like a good idea.” Then, to me, “Maybe go door to door.”

Yeah, sure, like I was twelve. They probably still saw me that way since they were stuck living in the past. “I was gonna contact Mr. Reynolds from the pet store to see if he needs help again this summer.”

I’d been helping on and off for years, and though it only paid minimum wage, my parents were all about doing honest work and climbing up the ranks and all that. I knew I’d never be as successful as my parents. Dad was a lawyer and Mom a school administrator, but thankfully, they didn’t expect us to follow in their footsteps. They did expect us to choose something practical and to find our own way, something I’d been struggling with for a while now.

“Are you planning to room with one of your teammates this year?”

I wiped my mouth. “I was going to room with Emil again. We got along well enough, so why try to fix what’s not broken?”

“He seems like a nice guy.” Mom nodded. “As do his parents.”

“Don’t know what he plans to do with a fine arts degree, but to each their own,” Dad said.

I shrugged. “That’s his business.”

I also thought it was cool that he was going after whatever he was passionate about, even if he didn’t have it figured out yet. It made me feel better that I didn’t either.

Emil was a dancer and played the trumpet in the marching band. I hid his instrument once as a joke, and he’d practically lost his mind. I wouldn’t make that mistake again. Payback involved him practicing next to my bed in the middle of the night. Plus, I hated when Emil was mad at me. He was way more reasonable when he was nice.

“Actually, I wanted to talk about changing my major…or rather, narrowing it down.”

“To what?” Dad asked.

“Sports medicine.” There, I finally admitted it. “I already spoke to my advisor about what classes I’ll need to take.”

“What’s your end goal?”

“Maybe physical therapy or athletic trainer?”

“Wouldn’t that require a lot of math?” Dad countered.

“Some.” I’d barely passed math in high school, so he had reason to doubt me. But that’d been more about my motivation than the work itself, and once they’d hired a tutor, that helped turn me around. “At least this interests me. Wouldn’t hurt to give it a try.”

“That sounds like a good plan.” Mom smiled, but Dad still looked doubtful.

Story of my life. Even Emil seemed to have more faith in me—well, depending. He told me I was cocky to a fault—and I definitely acted the part at Roosevelt. I felt way more confident away from my parents.

And…there I went, thinking about Emil again. Probably because I loved driving him crazy. I purposely left my socks on the floor just to see his ears turn pink and his jaw clench. I liked getting a rise out of him, and the rare events when it actually happened were the best.

I had plenty of friends and activities to keep me occupied, but there was something about Emil that always drew me in. He’d even gotten me hooked on this anime series about a demon slayer. I hadn’t told the guys that was the reason I’d stayed in so many nights during the spring semester instead of playing cards or hanging out in the common area. Emil would pull out his laptop, I’d make popcorn in the microwave, and we’d sit together and watch that damned show.

Those had been some of my favorite nights.

Until we meet again.

I sighed. The fall semester couldn’t come soon enough.

1

EMIL

We were all moved into the dorms. Classes would officially start on Monday, but first came a grueling week of band practices in the blistering sun. At least we didn’t have to get all geared up like the football players. I didn’t know how they could stand the heat.

“Glad the coach gives them water breaks,” Jonah said, following my line of sight to the other end of the football field. This was our second year in marching band together. Jonah also played the trumpet, and he had orchestra dreams, but I split my time between dance and music for now. I hadn’t figured out a direction yet.

“Right? I’d die in all that gear and then running on top of it?”

“Tell me about it,” Jonah mumbled. “I’m half dying as it is.”

When Bones looked our way, I averted my eyes. No way I’d give him more ammunition to brag about us checking him out or some other ridiculous thing. He certainly wasn’t hurting in the confidence department.

“After what happened last year with Henry,” I added, “they’re probably extra careful about the players’ needs.”

Henry “Henners” Albrecht was the quarterback and team captain, and he was also a cancer survivor. So when he fainted on the field last year, everyone was concerned his leukemia had returned. Turned out it was a severe panic attack, and he was now receiving treatment.

“Listen to us acting like they don’t practice in the heat every summer,” I said. “I’m sure the coaching staff knows what they’re doing.”

Jonah nodded. “Think they’ll make it to the championship this year?”

“Hope so. That would be awesome.”

The Sentinels had been close last year, making it all the way to the playoffs with Henry as quarterback. He looked stronger than ever now. Maybe it had everything to do with coming out of the closet and having the sweetest boyfriend ever.

His boyfriend, Lark, and I were in the dance program together. He lived off-campus, but we still hung out whenever we could. And since Lark and Henry had made it official, our friends from football and dance intermingled regularly. We were an odd bunch, but it was fun.

“Okay, break’s over,” Mr. Roberts, the band director, called. “Let’s get back in formation.”

I picked up my trumpet and lined up behind Jonah on the field. I positioned my fingers on the valves and, when given the cue, blew into the mouthpiece. We played the Roosevelt fight song, which would be in rotation our first game. We were a bit rusty but would get better with each practice. Believe it or not, it was hard to move and play at the same time. In my opinion, marching band was a sport all its own, just like dance, and I’d argue that point to death if given the chance. Besides, the fans might be coming to games to watch football, but they seemed to love our performances and configurations during the popular halftime show too.

The football team was let go first, so Mr. Roberts used the opportunity to have us practice at the fifty-yard line. The lines and markers helped us find our place better than the cones he’d set up at the opposite end of the field.

After another half-hour, we were let go for the afternoon. We headed off the field just as the football players were leaving the locker room.

“We ordered pizzas,” Bones said, approaching us, “so you’re welcome to join us in the common room.”

“Only if I can whip your ass in Ping-Pong afterward.”

A-Train and Flash groaned. By now, they were used to my competitive streak—which, for some reason, went into overdrive around Bones. I just…needed to beat him any chance I got.

“Feel like getting spanked, huh?” Bones countered.

“Oh, I enjoy spanking, though not usually during Ping-Pong.”

Henry cleared his throat and looked away while Bones turned beet-red and the other players guffawed.

“I love it when you make him blush,” Jonah said with a laugh. “Mr. Meathead Linebacker.”

I did too. A little too much. I knew he was straight, but I couldn’t resist.

By the time I stored my instrument, freshened up, and made my way back to the dorm, the pizza was half gone, likely helped along by a twelve-pack of beer. No way there was plain water in those bottles they were passing around—as if the RA wouldn’t figure it out—and my roommate’s eyes always had this glazed expression when he’d been drinking.

I grabbed a slice of pizza before it disappeared. “Already partying hard, I see.”

A-Train shrugged. “Classes don’t start for a few more days, so why not?”

He offered me the water bottle, but I turned him down. “No thanks, backwash isn’t my thing.”

“Gummies are his thing,” Bones said.

I hitched a shoulder. “Easier to hide.”

“Can’t have that stuff in my system,” Bones pointed out.

“Seems like you can’t have that stuff either, lightweight,” I teased.

A-Train laughed. “Ooooh, burn.”

Not to be outdone, Bones stood and motioned to the Ping-Pong table. “Ready for me to kick your ass?”

“You can certainly try, tipsy.”

More snickers as we walked to the table.

As usual, I won the first three games. His fingers were always clunky on the paddle, so clearly, he wasn’t good at everything. Still, he was determined to beat me.

“I’m ready to go all the way to seven,” Bones announced.

The official table-tennis rules called for a best of seven, but usually, we only played to three or five.

“Fine.”

And I don’t know what made me do it, but I let him win. Maybe it was those puppy-dog eyes he tried to use on me across the table. Or maybe I was just tired and ready to relax in our room.

He threw up his hands, doing a little victory shuffle, which alerted the guys that we were done for today. They’d stopped paying attention a while ago. Been there, done that, where we were concerned.

I yelped when Bones picked me up and spun me around like a rag doll. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Celebrating my win.” I could smell the beer on his breath.

I pushed at his beefy arms. “Put me down.”

He clumsily set me on the throw rug in front of the television, then gloated some more.

That was when Henry’s roommate, Spencer, stepped out of their room. “Anyone wanna come in and do a shot of Patron?” He always had hard booze hidden somewhere.

Of course, Bones made a beeline straight for him, as did a couple of other guys. At least they weren’t driving anywhere.

Henry stayed put on the couch, smiling at his phone.

“Lark?” I asked, plopping down beside him.

“Yeah. Can’t wait until he’s here every day.”

They were so stinking cute together.

“Me neither. We have the same ballet class again.”

He grinned. “He told me already.”

After chatting for a couple more minutes, I stood and stretched. “I’m gonna go chill until dinner.”

“Wish I could too.” He glanced toward his room—where the guys were being pretty loud—just as Bones came stumbling out, his eyes even more glazed over. Christ, this guy.

I sighed and started down the hall to our room. I felt someone catch up to me, and then my roommate’s hefty arm circled my shoulder.

“Hmmm, you’re warm,” he said, which was all sorts of odd.

I kept walking without throwing his arm off, though I wanted to. Wouldn’t want anyone to think we were this close. “That’s the alcohol. It can make you feel overheated.”

“No, it’s youuu,” he slurred. “I’ve always wondered if you were warm.”

I stiffened. Was he serious? He’d sat next to me plenty of times, but then, I supposed we’d never hugged like this. In fact, his arm was starting to suffocate me.

“Okay, drunky drunk, let’s get you to our room.”

He held on, and at one point, I could’ve sworn he sniffed my hair. I considered pushing him off, but I knew he was tipsy. Plus, I sort of enjoyed it—if I shut my eyes and pretended he was someone else. What could I say? I’d always liked big, husky guys, and his biceps were made of pure muscle from training. Though I’d never thought of Bones in that way because gross—straight, messy roommate alert!—even if he had grown on me.

As we got to the door, he said, “You know that note you left me?”

“Before summer break?” I’d left it because he wasn’t around and my parents were waiting outside. He’d mentioned us rooming again, but we hadn’t discussed it in greater detail before the year came to a close.

“Yeah, you said…you said until we meet again.”

I pushed open the door and helped him to his side of the room. “Okay, so?”

“My brother left me a note before the army shipped him off.” He faceplanted on his bed. He never talked to me about his brother, though I’d heard he’d also attended Roosevelt. “His final words were until we meet again.”

I stared at him, wondering where he was going with this. “It’s a popular saying.”

He rolled to his back and threw an arm over his eyes. “He never came home.”

Did he mean…?

“I’m so sorry.” Maybe that was why he’d never mentioned him. Too painful.

And now the rumors made sense. I’d once overheard a conversation between his football buddies that Bones could never live up to his brother’s pristine reputation. But I hadn’t given it much thought because Bones never seemed bothered by anything.

I watched as he kicked out of his shoes and slipped under his covers. “I still write him emails…even though they bounce back.”

“You do?” What the hell?

“For one brief moment when I hit Send, I pretend he’ll respond…” He frowned. “But he never does.”

My hand automatically covered my mouth as I stepped closer to him. I wanted to console him somehow.

“Hey, Bones…Bruce…” This conversation seemed serious enough to use his real name, though he’d told me he hated it.

When I heard him snoring, I breathed out.

Well, damn.

2

BONES

The following morning, I woke up wearing the same sweats I’d had on yesterday. I’d passed out, clearly, after a tough week of practices, followed by all the beer and shots I’d consumed, which hadn’t helped. Nothing new there.

“Why are you avoiding me?” I asked Emil. He was moving around the room, tidying up his bed and desk, and refusing to look at me. At least it seemed that way.

“I’m not.”

“Did I say something inappropriate last night?” I remembered lifting him in the air and swinging him around after my epic Ping-Pong win, but he hadn’t seemed too upset about that at the time, only annoyed. “If so, I’m⁠—”

“No, nothing inappropriate.” He turned his head away and muttered, “For a change.”

“I heard that.” Ugh, moving my head made it feel thick and heavy. I needed to sober up before the team meeting and practice today. “So then…what?”

He sat on his mattress and finally met my gaze. “You told me about your brother.”

“My—What?” I scrubbed my hand over my face. “I did?”

Fucking hell, why would I do that?

“Yeah…and I’m sorry.”

I lobbed a pillow at him. “Don’t start being nice to me just because I had a sappy moment.”

Emil tossed it back. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

I breathed out. “Good.”

Emil smirked. “You also told me I was warm before you gagged me with your big, smelly armpit.”

Now that was more like it.

But damn, I hoped he didn’t see my inebriated actions as anything more. I wouldn’t want him avoiding me for real. That would get uncomfortable.

What had I been thinking? He knew I was straight. No way could he tell I’d been feeling differently about him since move-in day. As soon as I saw him lugging a box into the dorm, my stomach felt all strange and fluttery. I would’ve ignored it if it had only been one time. But it kept happening during practice when I’d spot him across the field, and the butterflies really got going when I made him laugh or smile.

Maybe I was just happy to see my friend again?

“Hey, you don’t always smell so great,” I countered.

Emil cocked an eyebrow. “No way. I smell awesome. My hygiene is amazing, and I take good care of my skin. You could use some pointers.”

I thought of all the bottles he had lined up on the bathroom counter, from cleanser to moisturizer. “Whatever, I’m not doing all that shit.”

“Suit yourself.” He reached for the change of clothes he’d set on his desk chair. “When you get old and wrinkly, you’ll think back to this conversation.”

“Sure, okay,” I mumbled, then turned over to get more shut-eye while he showered.

Emil shook me awake before he headed out, for which I was grateful. “Wouldn’t want Coach to get on your case.”

“Thanks.” I rolled out of bed to change into shorts and a tee. No use taking a shower before a sweaty practice, but I made sure to use plenty of toothpaste and deodorant to appear fresh so the guys wouldn’t razz me about getting hammered last night.

It was Friday, the last practice before the semester officially began, and I, for one, couldn’t wait for some free time over the weekend.

After a team meeting where we studied video for our upcoming game, we suited up in our helmets and shoulder pads and set up behind the line of scrimmage. I could hear the band practicing at the other end of the field, and after quickly identifying Emil with his brown hair, wispy frame, and muscled legs from years in dance, I was able to avoid looking in that direction again.

Linebackers were responsible for disrupting run plays and short passes from the opposing team, but during practice, I was up against our own offense, and it was my job to point out our weaknesses. When Henners tried to throw a screen pass to Flash, I was able to break through the line to get to our quarterback for what would be a definite sack in a real game, so I was feeling pretty good about myself.

After practice, we showered and changed, and then the coaching staff took us out to a local Mexican place for an early dinner. I was stuffed by the time we got back to campus. Some of the guys asked Coach to let us hang out in the clubhouse for a few hours—normally, it was reserved for game nights. There was also a huge party being thrown the following night at one of the frat houses, so it would be a busy weekend.

Once the coach left the clubhouse, I had one of the beers being passed around because hair of the dog and all that, but my mind kept drifting to Emil, wondering what he was up to. He tended to hang out with other dance students, especially Lark, Justin, and Leah, so maybe I’d have the room to myself tonight. Not that I necessarily wanted it to be empty. I enjoyed his company, and he was respectful when I needed quiet.

When Henners begged off early to spend time with Lark, I stood as well and headed to the door.

“What the hell, Bones?” A-Train asked.

“Yesterday may have been too much for me.” My head was still pounding from my drinking antics, so it was best to call it a night. “But I’ll definitely be up for partying tomorrow.”

“Okay, cool.”

I sucked in the fresh air as I made my way back to the dorm, a little thrill shooting through me about tucking in early. I considered myself an extrovert, but some nights, it felt good to just stay in my room and enjoy quieter things.

Which was why when I saw Emil on his bed with his laptop, I couldn’t help wondering if he’d had the same idea.

“I thought you’d be out.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Emil replied. “Just felt like chilling tonight.”

“Yeah, same. You watching something?”

“The new trailer for Slay.”

I nearly squealed like I was in the third grade. “The new season is out?”

“Uh-huh, over the summer. Can’t believe I held out this long.”

“You obviously needed to wait for me,” I said, and Emil smirked. “Can I watch it with you?”

“Well, it is our thing,” he said, and there went my stomach again.

I toed out of my shoes, sank down beside him, and crossed my legs. When our knees accidentally pressed together, my skin prickled—evidently, I was eager about the show. “Hit Play already.”

We watched with barely contained excitement, and as soon as the trailer ended, Emil blurted, “How can we not watch the first episode after that?”

Suddenly, my earlier exhaustion evaporated. “I’m game if you are.”

He scooted off the bed. “First, I need to apply my new face mask. I can wait for it to dry while we’re watching the show.”

I scrunched my nose. “What the hell is a face mask?”

“You’re kidding, right?” He rolled his eyes. “You apply it to your face, and it draws the impurities out of your pores. Then you wash it off, and afterward, your skin is smooth as a baby’s bottom.”

“You’re messing with me.”

He shook his head, then took out a container and brush from his dresser drawer. “I dare you to try it.”

I glanced toward the door, giving myself away. “Nope, not taking the bait.”

Emil nudged my shoulder. “It’s just us. No one will know.”

“Until you blackmail me,” I countered.

“I would never! I mean, unless you’re a jerk to me.”

“Well, there’s a ninety percent chance of that, so forget it.” I was always putting my foot in my mouth where he was concerned. We’d gotten more used to each other’s senses of humor and what buttons to avoid pushing, but it was still a work in progress.

“Come on,” he said with that false innocence in his eyes. He knew exactly what he was doing, playing on my emotions to get me to agree to stuff. And lately, it was working, the fucker. “I’ll brush it on your face, and then you do mine.”

“I…” I glanced over my shoulder again as if someone was going to barge into our room at any moment.

His mouth turned down. “Do you really care that much what people think of you, Mr. Tough Linebacker?”

I nearly puffed out my chest at that backward compliment. “Of course not.”

Then why was I acting so nervous? It was just skincare, for God’s sake. Or was this about something else entirely?

“The ladies will no doubt compliment your soft skin.”

That thought failed to send a thrill through me. Normally, I enjoyed the attention I got from fans of the female persuasion. But I didn’t want him to notice anything was wrong, so I begrudgingly agreed. “Fine.”

His eyes lit up. “Okay, sit perfectly still. Ready?”

“Let’s get on with it,” I grumbled. I pretended to be grouchy, but as soon as his fingers settled on my shoulder to steady himself, I felt adrift. He was so intense as he brushed the thick clay-like salve on my cheeks. “So the mask goes on clear, then dries white, and that’s how you know it’s ready to be washed off.”

I could barely focus on his words as I held my breath and scrutinized his features. His skin was smooth, his eyelashes long, his mouth bow-shaped. When he licked his lips and concentrated on my forehead, I wondered what they would taste like⁠—

I jerked back. What the hell was I doing?

He paused with the brush suspended between us. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, I had an itch. You done?”

He frowned, probably thinking he’d have way more fun with one of his other friends. “Yeah, that should do it.”

He handed me the tub and brush, then positioned himself on the bed. My first pass with the brush was a bit sloppy, and I ended up getting some on his ear, but he just laughed and swiped at it with his wrist.

I tried to make my brain go blank as I applied the rest, hoping he didn’t notice the hitch in my breathing every time I came anywhere close to his mouth. “All done.”

“Okay, cool.” He placed the supplies on his dresser. “Let’s watch an episode while it dries, and then we can wash it off.”

It felt ridiculous to sit beside him on the bed with this shit tightening on my face, but soon enough, we got lost in the episode.

When it ended thirty minutes later, I stretched my legs. “That was good.”

“Right? I love the new character they introduced.”

The show was pretty diverse with respect to the cultural backgrounds, genders, and sexualities represented. That was something I’d never really paid attention to before, but last year had been a lightbulb moment regarding mental health and sexuality. Suppose I had Lark and Henners to thank for that.

I motioned to the screen, my thoughts returning to the episode we’d just watched. “Do you think those two will eventually hook up?”

“I hope so. I’d be all for a gay love connection.”

“Have you…?” I swallowed, wondering if I could even ask the question. “Have you had any of your own over the summer?”

“Maybe,” he said in this coy way he always did when talking about guys he hooked up with here and there. “What about you?”

“Well, I’m not into guys, so…”

He playfully pushed me. “Never say never.”

Before I could respond, he rolled off the bed. “Come on, let’s go see what we look like.”

I followed him to the bathroom, where we burst out laughing as soon as we saw our reflections in the mirror. “We look like ghosts.”

Emil snorted. “At least we’ve got Halloween figured out.”

He turned on the faucet and began rinsing his face. I handed him a towel, then washed my mask off next.

“Feel your skin. Isn’t it smooth?”

I rubbed my fingertips across my cheek. “Suppose so.”

He arched a brow in the mirror. “Admit it.”

“For Christ’s sake. I have no idea.”

When his knuckles brushed my jaw, I shivered. God, I was losing it.

“Let me feel yours,” I told Emil.

He lifted his chin in my direction, and I cupped his cheek. He briefly shut his eyes like it felt good. Or maybe I was reading too much into it. “Yeah, okay, it’s soft.” Though I had a feeling it was always that way, but whatever, I’d play along.

“Told you so.” His eyes brightened. “That settles it. Once a week, we’ll pamper ourselves with face masks.”

“Hard pass. That was a one-and-done.” Thank God there wasn’t any photographic evidence.

“Don’t be a maskhole. You’ll love it.”

A laugh jumped out of my mouth, making my chest feel fluttery and weightless.

How dare he make this fun? And why the hell had I agreed to room with him again?

When I followed him out of the bathroom, he asked, “You in the mood for another episode?”

“Absolutely,” I replied around a yawn. No way I’d pass this up, even if I was still feeling tired from my week.

We cut the lights and positioned ourselves against his pillows in front of his laptop again. We ended up watching two more episodes, though my eyes were slits and I nodded off halfway through the second.

3

EMIL

The dork was asleep in my bed.

But he was also kinda cute with his soft snores and relaxed features. After his drunk confession, I felt like I understood him better, so his persona around campus was in question. I wondered if he was purposely hiding his grief about his brother behind the facade of a big, clueless jock. Except, on top of having the energy of a golden retriever, he also made lots of blunders, as if unaware of how his uninformed statements sounded.

The good thing was he generally learned from his mistakes. Or maybe I was going soft on him. Ever since move-in day, something was different about him or between us, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was.

Whereas before, he would joke about both of our hookups, now he seemed more inquisitive about mine, like he’d just clued in that I was his gay roommate and had sex with dudes. I’d caught him staring at me no less than five times over the last week, as if trying to figure something out about me. I would find it amusing if it wasn’t so unnerving. What was his deal?

Maybe he was the one who needed a hookup.

I shook him a little. “Hey, B. You fell asleep.”

“Need another minute,” he whispered, then slung his arm over his eyes.

Ugh, no way I could move him myself. I swear he had a hundred pounds on me.

Instead of the hassle of waking him up, I just closed my laptop, placed it on the floor, then turned onto my side and shut my eyes. Our mattresses weren’t even full-size, so no doubt he’d move to his own bed as soon as he felt uncomfortable sleeping in such a cramped space.

But that wasn’t what happened. By morning, he had me practically pinned against my pillow, and I could feel his boner pushing against my hip.

I wiggled, trying to shift his weight off me, though it also felt warm and cozy. Bones stiffened, his voice groggy when he said, “What the hell?”

I glanced at him over my shoulder. “I could ask you the same.”

He scooted over. “Why are we in the same bed?”

“Because you fell asleep.”

“You could’ve woken me up.”

“I tried, you jackass.” I sat up so he didn’t think I was too comfy. “Anyway, what’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is…” He gingerly placed his feet on the floor. “I’ve got morning wood because I gotta piss, and you’re gonna think⁠—”

“That you like boys all of a sudden?” I called after him as he made a beeline for the toilet. “Get over yourself.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” he replied through the cracked door. “Those beds aren’t comfortable enough for two people.”

“Tell me about it. You almost smothered me.” I stood and stretched. “But in certain circumstances, it can be fun.”

He mumbled something on his way back to his own bed while I closed the bathroom door behind me. Yeah, talk about morning wood. Even a long piss didn’t take care of it for me, and I certainly didn’t want him to hear me jacking off, not after sleeping in the same bed with him.

After a quick shower, I reached for a towel, wishing I’d brought clothes in there with me. But I’d never done that before. The previous year, we’d walked around the room in only our towels and sometimes underwear, not giving it another thought. Why should this time be different?

Bones was sitting up in bed, scrolling through his phone, when I finished in the bathroom. I averted my eyes but could feel him watching me as I dug out some briefs to pull on.

“What?” I asked over my shoulder.

“What what?”

I smirked. “Let me guess—you can’t get over how soft my skin looks after that mask last night.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I can feel you staring at me.”

“Am not. Was lost in my own head.” He grabbed a towel and headed to the bathroom. “Sorry. Didn’t mean anything by it.”

As soon as he shut the door, I breathed out. Okay, we were both being ridiculous.

I got dressed, grabbed my backpack and keys, then knocked on the bathroom door. “Heading out. See you later.”

I met Leah at the smoothie shop where Justin worked. It was good to see my friends after a summer apart.

Justin stood behind the counter in his navy-blue uniform shirt with a blinding smile on his face. “What’s up?”

We high-fived, then briefly talked about classes even though we’d been in touch during the summer to compare schedules.

“What can I get you?” Justin asked when his manager came into view.

“I’ll have a strawberry-banana shake with a hit of energy powder,” Leah said.

He rang up her order, then turned to me. “How about you? You need some energy too?”

“Nah, just some protein powder to my pineapple and coconut.”

“Coming right up.” He turned from the counter to prepare our orders. Justin began working there spring semester, and we hung out sometimes, waiting for his shift to end. So did his girlfriend, Jessilyn. She was the cheerleader he’d crushed on last fall and finally asked out. Now, they were tied at the hip.

Smoothies in hand, we sat at a table near the window to people-watch.

“How was your summer?” I asked Leah.

“Good. I worked at a kids’ camp. How about you?”

“I worked for my dad’s company again. I’m like his glorified errand boy, but I don’t mind too much.” My stepfather owned a couple of franchises of a popular fitness center. Mom did the accounting, and I helped behind the counter or wherever I was needed. My parents didn’t offer handouts, and I used the money to pay for gas and new dance tights.

“There’s Lark.” I lifted my hand to wave him over.

We’d invited him but weren’t sure if he would make it. He watched his sister when his mom was at work, but sometimes, he was able to use her car to hang out with us. No doubt Henry would’ve offered to drive him, but Lark didn’t like taking advantage of his generosity.

Lark waved as he stepped to the counter to place his order, then headed over along with Justin, who was on a fifteen-minute break.

“Can you believe classes start in a couple of days?” Justin asked.

“No, but I’m looking forward to it,” Lark replied.

I winked. “So you can see Henry more?”

He nodded as he took a sip of his smoothie. “And my friends.”

“Will you be able to come to the party tonight?” Leah asked Lark.

He frowned. “No, gotta watch Star.”

“There’ll be plenty of parties this semester,” Leah replied.

“Definitely. So, how’s band practice? Henry was complaining about the heat.”

“Brutal, but always is,” I said. “Bones won’t shut up about it either.”

“I still can’t believe you agreed to live with him again.”

“Any regrets?” Leah asked.

“Not so far.” I sucked down more of my drink. “He’s not so bad once you get to know him. He actually has a sweet side to him.”

Lark stared at me. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve gotten him to watch anime and…” I almost told them about the facials, but Bones would kill me. “He can be fun to be around.”

“Well, this is a change of heart,” Leah said. “You complained about what a pain in the ass he was all last year.”

“He still is, but at least I know what to expect.”

“True,” Leah said. “My new roommate is uptight about me touching her stuff. I hope that’s not a preview of the rest of the year.”

“Jessilyn isn’t happy with her living arrangement either.”

“We might be escaping to your room more.”

“Fine by me.” Justin smiled. “Unless there’s a sock on the door handle. That’s the deal my roomie and I came up with.”

“Sheesh. I don’t feel so bad about living at home now,” Lark said, and we laughed.

“Maybe next year you can find something off-campus with Henry.”

He smiled wistfully. “Yeah, maybe.”

We talked about classes and school until Justin’s break was over.

Before Leah left, she agreed to meet me before the party, and then it was just Lark and me.

“Hey, has Henry ever told you anything about Bones’s family?”

Lark looked off in the distance as if trying to recall. “Just that he had an older brother he tries to emulate. Why?”

“He rarely talks about them, but the other night, when he’d had too much to drink, he spilled the beans for the first time.”

Lark’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Is that why you seem different about him?”

“What do you mean?”

“The stuff you told us about Bones having a sweeter side…you seem to have softened your stance on him.”

I lobbed my empty cup into the nearby receptacle. “I don’t know. I just think it’s better to be civil than to…”

“There’s nothing wrong with the two of you being friends. I might’ve thought he was a dick last year, but we’ve all gotten to know each other better.”

Last year, Bones would tease Lark about his childhood friendship with Henry. What he didn’t know was that they were both cancer survivors and were crushing on each other. Henry had kept it a secret, and it was affecting his health. But after confessing to his football buddies, things had changed for the better. They still acted like jerks sometimes, but they could be fun too.

“Guess you’re right. Maybe I have softened about Bones a little.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

I averted my eyes. God, was I that easy to read? Maybe it was best to say it out loud. “Not really.” I cleared my throat. “Though he…he fell asleep in my bed last night.”

Lark’s eyes widened. “How did that happen?”

“We were having a Slay marathon. I tried waking him up, but his tired ass wasn’t having it. So I just turned over and went to sleep.”

“Oh, damn.” He smirked. “I can imagine his surprise, waking up in your bed this morning.”

I winced. “Yeah, it was awkward, but also not—in an I’m-a-straight-guy-let-me-prove-my-manhood way. He seemed almost…shy about it.”

“Interesting.” Lark’s eyes met mine. “You’re not crushing on him, are you?”

“Uh, no thanks. He’s like a big, playful puppy who steps in everything.”

Lark laughed. “True.”

“But it’s not a hardship spending time with him.” Admitting that made my hands feel clammy. “Not like it used to be.”

“If you say so.” We stood and headed to the door. “Keep me posted on that.”

4

BONES

“You going to the frat party?” I asked Emil.

“Uh-huh,” he replied, distracted by the dinging of the microwave. Ramen noodles were a staple in our room, and he apparently didn’t think they were done enough because he shoved the cup back inside and punched the buttons again.

“Maybe you’ll find a hookup tonight.” Ever since falling asleep in his bed last night, I was hyperfocused on how his body had felt beside mine and why I’d liked it so much. It made me curious about all sorts of things, and I couldn’t stop my lips from forming the words. “If you need the room, just shoot me a text as a heads-up.”

“I’ll just be hanging with my friends tonight.” He checked his reflection in the appliance door and fluffed his hair. He was always messing with it, running his fingers through it, and now I wondered if it was as soft as it looked. “Maybe you’ll be the one looking for an empty room.”

“You never know.” I shoved more clothes in my laundry bag. Hopefully, the washer would be free this afternoon, or I wouldn’t have anything to wear.

“Missed some stuff in the corner.” He motioned toward my socks and underwear. “You’d be terrible at basketball. You can’t even get your clothes in the hamper.”

“Sure I can.” I grabbed a balled-up sock and tossed it in the laundry basket I kept just inside the closet door. “I just like annoying you.”

“You ass!” he scoffed. “That just gives me more ammunition to do something that irks you.”

I shrugged. “Like what?”

“Like…eating all your snacks.”

Okay, he had me there. My snacks were very important to me, especially my protein bars after practice.

I threw him a warning look. “I swear to God, if you⁠—”

“Guess your smelly socks will be making it into the hamper,” he countered.

“Whatever,” I muttered, turning away from his gloating expression.

I couldn’t believe I’d let him get a rise out of me. But I’d admit I wasn’t on my game today.

I continued sorting laundry as he waited on his lunch.

“You should wear the blue shirt,” he said. “It brings out your eyes.”

My stomach did that tilting thing as I pulled the tee from the bag. “This one?”

“Uh-huh.” Emil removed the steaming mug from the microwave and blew on it. “It’s worked for you before, hasn’t it?”

I thought back to last year when he’d walked in on me and a cheerleader named Melanie as her hands had inched under my shirt. “Pretty sure it wasn’t the shirt. Just all me.”

“You cocky son of a bitch.” He laughed in disbelief, then sat at his desk to eat his soup. “You telling me you could wear a paper bag and still attract the ladies?”

“Definitely.” It was true that I wasn’t lacking in confidence, but a lot of it was just purposely acting like an ass.

He arched a brow. “I dare you to prove it.”

I pulled the drawstring on the bag. “I might have to if I can’t get a free washer.”

“Should we bet on this one?”

“What would the wager be?”

Emil carefully sipped the hot liquid in his cup. “That you can’t score in anything but that blue shirt.”

“How the hell would I prove that?”

He reached for my bag and rummaged around. “Here, wear this ugly thing and see what happens.”

I had no idea he had such strong opinions about my clothes.

I studied the brown Henley that had bleach stains near the hem from a laundry mishap. “Why is this shirt ugly?”

He huffed out a laugh. “Why do you look hurt?”

“I’m not. Besides, it’s not like you’re a fashion diva.”

“More than you! You can’t even match half the time.”

“I’ve gotten better! You’ve brought it up enough times.” I walked to Emil’s closet to find a particular button-down I found atrocious. “This one needs to go in the donation bin. But you should wear it tonight.”

“What’s wrong with a pink shirt with flamingos? I bought it for a luau party.”

“And haven’t worn it since.”

“Wow, I didn’t realize how much you paid attention.”

“Says the person who knew the exact shirt to pull out of my laundry.”

But damn, had I given myself away? I didn’t want Emil to think I scrutinized him that closely.

“How could I not notice? This room is all of five hundred square feet.”

He had a point. It’d felt stifling at first, but now I was used to it.

“Okay…” Emil said, “then how about this? I wear this awesome pink shirt, you wear the ugly brown one, and whoever comes away with a hookup tonight wins. Though I might have to branch out. It’s not like there’s tons of gay guys at Roosevelt.”

“You mean you’d pull up Grindr? That wouldn’t be fair.”

His eyes widened. “How do you know about Grindr?”

“Seriously? There are similar apps for straight dudes.”

“Okay, true. I thought maybe you’d checked it out before or something.” He snickered. “You’d certainly get an eyeful.”

“What do you mean? Dick pics?” I asked. “Show me.”

“What? No!”

I laughed nervously. “I’m just curious.”

“Fine.” He threw out his empty cup, then sat on his bed with his phone. He scrolled to the app while my heart hammered in my chest. What the hell was I doing? I didn’t want to see any guy’s junk.

I looked over his shoulder as the site opened—and gasped. “Wait a minute!” I grabbed the cell out of his hand. “Is that your profile pic?”

“Hey, give me back my phone!” He tried to wrestle it from me, but my arm was longer.

“I just wanna see.” I plopped down on the bed, brought the screen closer to my face, and studied his shirtless, provocative pose. “Whoa, look at you. You get more hookups like that?”

“Of course.”

Grappling for his phone again, it became a tussling match. I didn’t know who was laughing harder as Emil grew even more determined and ended up knocking me backward and straddling my waist.

His eyes narrowed as he looked down at me. “Now I’ve got you trapped.”

“It’s cute how you think I’m trapped.” I effortlessly shifted my knees back, making him sway. “One move, and you’re on the floor.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” he challenged, sinking his weight on top of me and hunkering down. I could feel my dick growing beneath his ass. Holy shit.

In a move that would make the wrestling gods proud, I lifted him higher, then flipped him to his back. He stared up at me, speechless.

“Here’s your stupid phone. Turns out I’m not into dick pics.”

I rolled off him and fast-walked to the bathroom. I took a piss, willing my cock down, then flushed, hoping he thought I’d just had to take a leak.

When I came back out, he was scrolling on his phone, pretending nothing happened. I grabbed my laundry bag and walked down the hall, luckily finding one of the washers empty. I stood there for a long while, just processing.

Emil was on a video call with his parents when I returned—I could tell by his tone of voice—and to be honest, I was jealous of his easygoing relationship with them.

“Bruce says hi, by the way.” He smirked at me, then stuck out his tongue.

I could hear them saying hi back, which made me smile—out of relief or gratitude, I didn’t know which.

Pulling out my laptop, I checked my social media messages, then went to transfer my clothes to the dryer. When I got back, Emil was freshly showered and in his flamingo shirt.

“So you were serious about the bet?” I asked.

Emil straightened the hem of his shirt over his shorts. “Why, you afraid I’m gonna win?”

“Hell no! Bad shirt or not, my good looks and personality will stand on their own.”

“And if they don’t, you could always brag about being a football god or whatever the hell you call yourself.”

“True,” I admitted, and he rolled his eyes. “So, what are the stakes?”

“If I win, you have to do another facial with me.”

I groaned. “Fucking hell.”

“It’s not so bad to pamper yourself.”

“Okay, fine. If I win, you have to buy me a footlong sub from Sammy’s.” It was my favorite sandwich shop, rivaling the one I liked back home.

“You mean a hoagie?”

It was a Jersey thing and depended on what part of the state you hailed from. But for Emil and me, it was just another way to be competitive.

“Hoagie or sub, it’ll taste good going down.”

“If you win.” Emil put out his hand. “Deal.”

5

EMIL

The frat house was packed with partygoers as I arrived with Leah and Justin, the excitement of the new term in the air. Entrance required a donation of either cash or canned goods, which didn’t surprise us—the frat houses were always raising money for one thing or another. It helped counter their raucous reputation, mostly in the parents’ eyes.

Justin’s gaze immediately flashed to the cheerleaders chilling on the front porch of the Shaker-style house, which was probably a hundred years old and in need of repairs. Leah smirked when Jessilyn squealed and pulled Justin into a tight embrace. They were sweet together, and watching them made my stomach twist uncomfortably. I’d never had anything like that. Not that I was looking for it, and definitely not when I had so much going on with music, dance, and classes. But I’d always wondered what it would be like to feel that strongly for someone. Lark and Henry only drove that point home.

This was only my second frat function, but Bones had been to plenty. In fact, you only had to mention the word party to him last year, and he’d been out the door. It hadn’t bothered me one way or another—unless he was puking in the bathroom afterward. He was lucky to have a decent roommate who’d helped him to bed a handful of times.

Once inside the house, I absently searched the crowd for Bones, kicking myself for seeking him out so readily. His boisterous laugh drew my eye to the kitchen. He was near the keg, where he had an audience of females, ugly shirt and all. Ugh, he’d be sure to rub it in my face.

It was wall-to-wall people around the beer, so we had to wait in line with our red Solo cups. Bones didn’t immediately notice us, not with the blonde cheerleader, Deanna, whispering in his ear. His fingers were gripping her waist, and I felt something stir inside me, like a mixture of resentment and need. A passing thought of what his hands had felt like on my body that morning flitted through my brain.

Maybe I really did need a hookup tonight.

Bones’s gaze fixed on me as I was pouring beer into my cup. He had this strange look on his face until his expression transformed into smugness.

“I’m gonna win,” he mouthed to me.

“Not if I do first,” I mouthed back.

“What’s that about?” Leah asked.

“He’s just being a dickwad, as usual.” I almost told her about our bet, but I didn’t know what she’d think of it. I didn’t even know what I thought of it. This competitive streak just came out in me whenever I was around him.

“Let’s play beer pong,” Justin suggested, and Jessilyn led the way to the table set up in what was likely the dining room.

When I heard a commotion behind me, I glanced over my shoulder to see that Deanna had tripped and was being propped up by Bones. I hadn’t noticed earlier that she’d already had one too many.

“Wanna make out?” she asked Bones, loud enough for everyone around them to hear. My stomach sloshed as I watched their interaction, vaguely wondering if I should call off the bet and find out who she came with.

Little did I expect my roommate to have similar thoughts. Bones placed his hands on her shoulders to ward off her advances. “I think you’ve had too much to drink. We should find your friends.”

My gaze met his over her shoulder, and his eyes turned a stormy, turbulent gray, heavy as steel. I couldn’t seem to tear my gaze from his, trying to read whatever was in his eyes—a mix of surprise and confusion?

When Deanna’s hands slid up the front of his shirt, he sidestepped her, and she nearly fell over. His arm curled around her waist as he helped her to the sliding glass door that led to the bonfire outside. “Let’s get you some fresh air.”

“She might want some water,” I said, springing into action.

I grabbed a plastic cup and went to the sink, grappling with the fact that I suddenly saw Bones in a different light. He actually cared and was doing something kind instead of treating her like a means to an end.

I felt like a bit of a hypocrite because I’d probably believed every rumor I’d heard about him being a player just because he liked to be out and have a good time. Maybe he deserved the benefit of the doubt now that I knew him better. Maybe there was more to him than football, beer, and so much false bravado you could choke on it—and the latter was somehow tied to his brother. I just knew it.

I found Bones and Deanna outside, on a bench near the fire.

“Here you go.” She clumsily gripped the cup and downed the water.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” She stumbled toward the bushes and puked her guts out. Luckily, the friends she’d come with finally appeared, and Bones explained the situation.

“Let’s get you back to the dorm,” one of them said, helping her across the lawn to the front yard.

“Thank you,” another friend said over her shoulder.

We stood there quietly, watching them go.

“That was cool of you,” I said.

“What do you mean?” His eyebrows drew together. “She was drunk. You didn’t honestly think I’d try to follow through with⁠—”

“No, no, of course not,” I said, though I’d initially had reservations. I was glad they hadn’t panned out. Not that I’d thought he would take advantage of her, just that I hadn’t expected him to be so…compassionate. “I’m just sorry it didn’t work out for you.”

“Don’t worry, the night is young.” He glanced toward the sliding glass door that led to the kitchen. “I won’t leave my other fans waiting.”

“Careful, you might trip over your own enormous head.”

This felt better, this normal banter between us. The moment before had felt too heavy, too real.

“Shouldn’t you be with your friends?” he mocked.

I gripped my chest. “I’m hurt. I thought you were my friend too.”

He poked my shoulder. “Ha, you finally admit it.”

“Admit what?” I took a step back.

“That you like me.”

I tried to hide my grin. “I’ll never admit it.”

“You normally hate your friends?” he teased.

“Shut it.” I huffed out a laugh. “Later, dork.”

I grinned all the way back inside the house, where I found my friends dancing in the living room. I couldn’t help moving my hips as I joined them. It just came naturally to us.

Into the second song, I caught Bones watching from the corner where he stood with Flash, Spencer, and A-Train. I could feel him scrutinizing me, his piercing gaze roaming my bare legs, up my gyrating hips, to the top of my head. There was a brief smirk when he zeroed in on my flamingo shirt, and I hammed it up for him, unwilling to admit that his curiosity was making my skin prickle with a strange awareness. I had no idea what was happening between us except for the fact that he was my straight roommate and friend. Wasn’t he?

When Melanie approached him, the same girl he’d hooked up with a couple of times last year, I knew it was time for me to get serious and win this bet.

I took a break while Leah stayed with other dance friends who’d shown up and Justin and Jessilyn moved to a quiet corner of the room to make out.

Bones was talking animatedly to Flash and Melanie while Spencer was pulled onto the dance floor by a pretty girl with red hair.

“You don’t dance?” I asked as I passed by them.

“Hell no.”

“All you gotta do is move your feet side to side.” I showed him for effect. Maybe that was why he’d been staring so intently earlier.

“Still a no.”

When Flash and A-Train started howling and motioning to a video they pulled up on one of their phones, we got jostled against the wall.

“What the fuck?” Bones said to his friends. “You’re acting like dumbasses.”

Bones nearly crushed me before positioning his hands on either side of my shoulders in an almost protective mode. A fire blazed in my stomach, and I had trouble inhaling a decent breath.

“Look who’s suddenly the adult in the room,” Flash lobbed back.

Bones’s chest was practically grazing mine, and I felt his hot breath on my ear. It made my head fuzzy and warm.

Not good. At all. I ducked under his arm and did a spin move away.

Time for Grindr. I found an empty spot against the wall and pulled up the app. And just my luck, there was someone interested on campus.

Want to meet? he messaged.

Sure.

I smiled at my phone just as Bones glanced back at me. “What are you doing? Cheating?”

I flipped my screen toward him. “How is it cheating if it’s someone from campus?”

“How do you know—oh, the app tells you how close they are. That’s useful.”

“Very. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to win a bet.”

I stepped around him to reach out to Leah, who was still dancing with the others. “You okay if I take off and meet someone?”

“Someone cute?”

“His photo certainly looks it.” It wasn’t like I hadn’t done this before. Leah had admitted she wasn’t into hooking up, but she did flirt sometimes, especially with this one guy in her history class. She didn’t think he was into her though.

She glanced over my shoulder. “Why is Bones acting all miffed about it?”

“To be honest, I have a stupid bet going with him.”

“Why am I not in the least bit surprised?”

I snickered. “That’s how we roll. How else would I get through the semester being his roommate?”

“True. What’s the bet?”

“Whoever gets use of our empty dorm room first wins.”

“Oh my God, you two are ridiculous.”

“If I leave now, I might win!”

“I don’t know whether to root for you or smack you upside the head.” She nudged me toward the exit. “Good luck.”

6

BONES

My chest crowded with this feeling of protectiveness—at least, that was what I told myself as I followed Emil out the front door and onto the walkway.

He rounded on me. “What the hell are you doing?”

I hitched a shoulder. “Making sure you’re safe.”

“You’re kidding, right? Never, in all the time I’ve roomed with you, have you worried about my safety.”

“How do you know?” When Emil gave me a pointed look, I relented. “Okay, fine. But that’s because I never had a heads-up. But now you’re meeting some random dude from an app, and I know about it.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know if this is your way of keeping me from winning our bet, but if I were you, I’d head back inside and try to beat me to the room first.”

“I don’t care about that right now.” I honestly didn’t, and it must’ve shown because his mouth dropped open. “I just think…you should be more careful.”

Emil clenched his jaw. “I’m fully capable of fending for myself.”

“I’m not doubting that.” I raised my hands in retreat. “I just wanna know where you’re meeting this guy, in case he’s a serial killer.”

Emil rolled his eyes. “I always meet someone in public first, just to be sure.”

“Good idea. So what place did you agree on?”

“You’re gonna make me late.” He huffed out an exasperated breath. “I’m meeting him near the soccer field. It’s a weekend night, lots of students around. You satisfied now? Gotta go.”

As he turned to leave, I blurted, “I don’t know why, but I have a bad feeling about this.”

“You’re serious?” He stared at me hard.

“Yeah, call it a sixth sense or something.” I was full of shit, and he probably knew it. I had a bad feeling about his hookup for vastly different reasons.

“Whatever.” He started fast-walking, and I jogged to catch up.

“I’m about to unload on you if you don’t go back to the party.”

“I will, I promise. As soon as I see that you’re safe.”

He clenched his jaw. “If I let you walk with me to the field, you’ll be satisfied?”

I lifted two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

“I can’t imagine you ever being a scout.”

“You got me there.”

He fumed silently while I walked beside him, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. As we neared the stands, the dude was waiting for us. He was tall, decent-looking, and as he glanced between the two of us, wariness crossed his features.

“What the hell is this? I didn’t agree to⁠—”

“Don’t freak!” Emil said, then nudged me a little too forcefully. “He’s my roommate, and he’s heading to a party across campus.”

“Catch you later,” I said with a wave.

I bypassed the field and continued walking, feeling like a jackass. But I didn’t head back to the party, opting instead for an empty bench well away from the soccer field. I sat down heavily, wondering what the hell I was doing trying to cock-block Emil. But every time I thought of him being with that guy—who, I supposed, seemed decent enough—my stomach felt queasy.

I scrolled through my phone, trying to get my whirlwind thoughts in order, finally punching the button to call the first person I could think of—Henners.

“What’s up, Bones?”

“Nothing, I…was just wondering if you were gonna show at the frat party tonight.”

“Maybe later, but I doubt it. I decided to spend time with Lark instead.”

“That’s cool. How is he?”

“Are you okay, Bones?” he asked hesitantly instead of answering my question. “You sound funny.”

I stood to pace and then blurted, “Did you always know you were gay?”

“Um, where is this headed?” His laugh was hollow. “Is this some kind of joke? Or maybe you’re drunk?”

“No!” And now I felt guilty that he didn’t trust me enough to have a heart-to-heart. Supposed he was scarred from last year and how his coming out had gone down. I’d hoped I’d made up for my behavior since then. “I was just curious about it. About how you knew.”

He huffed out a breath. “I knew because I checked out guys way more than girls, unlike the rest of you. And making out with women wasn’t fulfilling for me.”

I sat there dumbfounded, wondering why that didn’t seem to fit me or the increasingly puzzling situation with Emil. I was into women, and I enjoyed hooking up. Never felt anything deeper after one-offs to actually date someone long term—in fact, as soon as I got a whiff of romance or feelings, I shut it all down—but I did enjoy it.

“That’s only my story, Bones. Other people can be bi or pan and are attracted to all genders and different people. None of it is wrong. Our experiences just vary.”

My pulse throbbed in my throat. Was that what was happening to me? Was I attracted to my roommate the same way I was to women?

“Bones? You there?”

I snapped out of my thoughts. “Oh shit, sorry. Yeah, I’m here.”

“Is there something you want to talk about? You could always look up the LGBTQIA community online. There’s plenty more that I didn’t name.”

“Nah, no need. I better go. Thanks for the chat.”

Before he could say anything else, I ended the call and made my way back to the party, determined to shake these feelings. The first thing I did was grab a beer and gulp it down. When my gaze met Leah’s across the room, she smirked at me, so maybe Emil had told her about our bet. Christ, what would she think if she knew I’d followed him to the field?

I found my friends around the firepit, along with a few of the cheerleaders, including Melanie. When she flirted with me, I flirted back, but it didn’t feel right. I kept thinking about what Emil and the guy were doing in our dorm room.

Fuck, I felt like I was losing my mind.

I headed back inside to down another beer—at least that was what I told my friends—but found myself leaving the party instead. The guys wouldn’t even notice, and if they did, they’d probably think I was hooking up.

I wandered around campus a bit before finally returning to the dorm. I figured I had given Emil plenty of time. As I was about to twist the knob, the door opened.

“Fucking hell,” Emil exclaimed, startled. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” Seeing the guy from the field standing directly behind him, I said, “Damn, I can come back later. I wasn’t sure⁠—”

“It’s okay. I was just leaving.” The guy rolled his eyes as if annoyed.

“Catch you later,” Emil called out, then shut the door behind him.

“I’m sorry if I ruined anything. I was out of line before⁠—”

He shook his head. “It’s all cool. We were…finished.”

“Oh, um…” I glanced at the bed, but nothing seemed out of place. “Well, I guess congrats are in order. You won the bet.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” He averted his eyes. “I’m gonna get changed.”

When he locked himself in the bathroom, I couldn’t get my shaking hands under control.

Was he mad at me? Had I ruined our vibe as roommates? God, why was I such a fucking idiot?

I threw myself across the mattress and tried to rein in my competing emotions.

“It’s all cool. We were…finished.”

My stomach throbbed. Was this what jealousy felt like? I needed to cut that shit out, or the rest of the term was going to be mighty awkward.

But I still couldn’t seem to settle. When I heard the shower turn on, I pulled out my laptop and opened my email.

Brody,

I don’t know what’s going on with me. I can’t stop thinking about my roommate.

There, I’d said it out loud—or rather, typed it.

To my dead brother.

Fucking hell, Brody, why do you have to be gone?

So maybe I’m…bisexual. But how does that explain why something feels different with him? Like, more? It’s not so much that I want to bone him…

Oh God, did I just type that?

…it’s that I feel like I want to be around him all the time.

Tonight, I did something stupid and tried to mess up his hookup with another guy. And I’m afraid I ruined it with him, that he’ll want to stay away from me now because I acted like an asshole. Like he couldn’t handle himself, though I know he can. He definitely doesn’t take any shit from me, so why would he from anyone else?

I’ve got a lot of things to figure out.

I love you. I miss you.

Until we meet again.

B.

7

EMIL

Bones was already in bed with the lights off by the time I was brave enough to leave the bathroom. I was feeling out of sorts after what happened between us tonight. What the hell had come over him? Why had he treated me like I needed protection or help?

That was a side of him I’d never witnessed. He’d helped Deanna at the party, which was sweet, and then he’d acted all concerned about me, going as far as walking me to the field and nearly abandoning the bet.

I didn’t know what to make of my roommate anymore. Maybe it was a good thing the term was starting, and we’d be busy with classes and extracurricular activities.

I crawled beneath my comforter but was unable to fall asleep. When Bones shifted more than once, I knew he was having the same difficulty.

“B?” I whispered in case I was wrong and he was moving around in his dreams.

“Yeah?” He twisted in my direction.

“I didn’t win that bet,” I confessed.

“What do you mean? That guy was in our room.”

“Yeah, but nothing happened between us.” I shifted to face him and could just make out the line of his jaw in the dark. It felt braver to admit the truth this way. “I just wasn’t feeling it. I asked him to leave.”

“You…you did?” he sputtered.

“Yeah. So it doesn’t feel right to ask you to pay up with a facial.”

“Well, it doesn’t feel right not to pay up after I acted like such an ass.”

I waved my hand in front of me. “Nah, you don’t have to.”

I could hear his heavy breaths. “What if I want to?”

Had that been hard for him to admit?

“Yeah?” I felt light all of a sudden. “Okay, then. But no takebacks.”

“Nope, no takebacks.” I heard the grin in his words.

“Cool.” Breathing more easily, I rolled to my back and shut my eyes. “Good night.”

He was silent for a long beat. “E?”

“Yeah?” I replied through a yawn.

“Have you ever…been in love?”

That question roused me. I almost turned on the light so I could see his face. Why in the world was he asking me that? But he sounded serious, so I should probably lend his question the gravity it deserved. I thought about my history with guys. There were only a couple of hookups that had turned into short-term relationships.

“I thought I was once, with my high school boyfriend.” He’d been a wrestler who hadn’t always supported my pursuit of music and dance in front of his teammates. “But he ended up being a jerk. Why do you ask?”

“Because I never have with anyone. Not even close.”

Why was he worrying about this? We were barely in our twenties.

“In fact,” he continued, “as soon as a girl wants to be even remotely serious or romantic, I run for the hills.”

I smirked. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“I’m serious,” he insisted, and my smile faded. “Do you think something’s wrong with me?”

“Of course not. But if it’s bothering you, maybe you need to ask yourself why. Is it you or them? Maybe you just haven’t met a person who makes you want more.”

“That’s what my dad always says when Mom drills me about girlfriends.”

I considered everything I’d heard about his family situation. “Did your brother have a serious girlfriend?”

“Oh yeah. Brody had plenty. He was a serial monogamist. Why are you asking about my brother?”

I turned to face him. “Don’t get mad, okay? But I heard a rumor that you feel like you can’t live up to your brother’s reputation.” When he didn’t respond, I panicked. “Bones?”

“Yeah…that’s true.” His voice was scratchy and low. “They compare us all the time. I never had the best grades or was an all-star in sports. I feel like a fuckup in their eyes.”

My gut churned. “I’m sorry.”

“Eh, it is what it is.”

The room grew quiet as our breaths filled the space between our beds. Until now, I hadn’t noticed how close we were, likely because I always turned my back and paid him no attention.

“Okay,” he said, “your turn to tell me a secret.”

I scoffed. “What are you talking about?”

“I told you about my brother,” he huffed out.

“That was a secret?”

“Well, no. I just don’t like talking about it. So…tell me more about your family.”

“You met my parents. There’s nothing to tell.” What was he getting at?

“So you’ve always had a perfect family? There are no skeletons in your closet?”

“No family is perfect.” I swallowed, feeling vulnerable right then, but Bones had shared a lot with me, so why not? “All right, fine. My dad…is not my biological father. He’s my stepdad, and he’s great.”

“Where’s your biological father?”

I felt a flash of discomfort. “In prison…for insider trading.”

I had no contact with him, and it was better that way. He’d never been a real father to me. My stepfather had become everything he wasn’t.

“No way!”

His voice carried, and I shushed him.

“Also, I’m not from a legacy family like you are. I auditioned for band and dance and worked my ass off.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m on the football team because I suck.” He made a frustrated sound. “They scouted me.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound that way. My point is, I wasn’t given a leg up the way some legacy families are.”

“Okay, sure, you’re right, I’ll give you that,” he replied, then muttered, “I almost wish they’d do away with that whole tradition anyway.”

I lifted on an elbow. “Why?”

“Maybe I would’ve ended up at a different university and wouldn’t have to live in my brother’s shadow.”

Well, damn. The air felt heavy between us, so I tried to lighten the mood. “But then you wouldn’t have met your awesome roommate.”

He huffed out a laugh. “True.”

My stomach swooped. Bones was sweet underneath it all.

“So there. We’re even,” I pointed out. “I know something about your background, and you know something about mine.”

“I suppose now I can’t blackmail you with anything. Bummer.”

“I’ve kept our facials under wraps, so you owe me,” I teased.

“Speaking of which…” I could hear him adjusting his covers. “You really didn’t do anything with that guy?”

“Well, maybe there was a kiss or two, but that was about it.”

That heaviness clung to the air again.

“What’s it like…to kiss another guy?”

“I swear to God, if this conversation is going to veer into mocking territory, I will put a pillow over your face and snuff you out.”

“I…no. Jesus, I was only curious.”

Holy shit, what did he mean he was curious?

My pulse throbbed as I asked, “In what way?”

“Is it like, better with a guy?”

“Obviously, duh. Because I’m gay. Women don’t do it for me.”

“What if someone’s bisexual?”

This felt like a twilight-zone moment.

“Then you probably like aspects of each gender for different reasons. Or maybe it isn’t that at all. Maybe it just comes down to the person and what you find attractive about them.”

Why the heck was he asking these questions?

“That makes sense.”

“If you’re curious what it’s like, go kiss a guy.” I felt hot all over, so I slid the covers off my legs. “It’s not rocket science or a big deal.”

“It is to a lot of people,” he countered.

“Well, sure. But those people are either ignorant or bigots.” This conversation was working me up. I threw up a hand. “What does it matter who you kiss?”

“Okay, in that case, come over here and kiss me,” he joked.

I lobbed a pillow at his head.

He laughed as he deflected it. “What? You said it was no big deal.”

I gritted my teeth. “You know what I meant.”

“Oh, I see. You don’t practice what you preach.”

Now, he was just pushing my buttons.

“Good night, Bones.” I huffed and turned toward the wall.

“Good night, hypocrite.”

“Screw you!” I knew he was only kidding, but somehow, that really got to me. There he went, sticking his foot in his mouth again. Just when I thought he’d turned the corner from all the jerkiness last year.

“Kissing may not be a big deal in the general sense, but it is personal and does depend on the situation,” I said. “If I’m gonna kiss someone, it won’t be for a dare or to prove something.”

“Never thought about it that way,” he replied in this contemplative tone. “Guess I never really cared about kissing one way or another.”

“Maybe you didn’t, but you have no idea if the person you kissed might’ve.”

He gasped. “Damn, you’re right.”

“Aw, my little roommate is growing. I can actually see the beginning of a heart forming.”

“Shut up,” Bones said, lobbing the pillow back at me.

I was just beginning to get settled in the quiet of the room when his voice rang out. “I can’t sleep. Interested in watching another episode of Slay?”

“You’re like a toddler. Let me go grab your pacifier.”

“You mean your computer?”

“Ugh, fine. Get your butt over here.”

“Yay, I won.” He scooted over to my bed as I lifted my laptop from the floor, then pulled up the show.

We were both under my covers this time. He smelled faintly of campfire, and the hairs on his bare legs were prickly against my skin. But I thought it best not to mention it. Halfway into the episode, he fell asleep again.

Would he yell at me like last time for not waking him up?

I gently shook his shoulder. “Hey, B, you gotta move to your bed.”

“But it’s all toasty here,” he muttered in a thick voice. “I like it.”

I smirked. What a dork.

“Suit yourself.” I put away my laptop, then turned toward the wall and went to sleep.

By morning, he was flush against me, his arm draped over my waist.

I gently ducked out of bed so as not to disturb him and went to grab breakfast. When I returned with bagels and cream cheese from the dining hall, he was coming out of the shower, wearing only a towel.

Neither of us mentioned the sleeping arrangement, and I was glad for it.

8

BONES

The start of the term was hectic, but I was excited about my new classes in the sports-medicine track—namely nutrition and biology. I felt a renewed sense of purpose. Proving to my parents I could do it, make something of myself. Maybe even be happy. I was also excited about future internships the advisor had mentioned.

This coming Saturday was our first home game, and the tension was intensifying for us to have the same or a better record than last season. Everything that happened with Emil a week and a half ago had momentarily receded to the background, especially since we’d had a long bus ride to an away game last weekend and lots of homework when we were in our room.

We still got a couple of Slay episodes in late at night, and I tried not to fall asleep in his bed, though I secretly enjoyed it. He didn’t seem to care one way or another, even when I woke up with a boner, and I really liked how warm he was and how it felt to have someone there beside me. But it didn’t seem like the time or place to address it when we were both so busy. At least that bought me time to wrap my brain around it.

It was Thursday night, and we were all trying to blow off steam, so we played cards in the common room while sneaking sips of Spencer’s stash in between rounds. Emil and Jonah went to a band meeting and showed up afterward to chill in front of the television, which was tuned to a reality show a bunch of the residents seemed interested in.

Soon enough, Melanie and her friends joined us, and Flash jokingly suggested we play strip poker or spin the bottle, except it came off as misogynistic. Even I could recognize that. Maybe Emil was right—I was growing up and could acknowledge how immature I acted last year.

“Spin the bottle?” Emil asked, standing and stretching. “What are you, twelve?”

“Seriously,” Melanie said, “can’t we all hang out without you being a horndog?”

“Yeah, what the hell is wrong with you?” I said, and A-Train looked at me like I’d grown two heads. Last year, I might’ve laughed or added some dumb comment, but my roomie had offered me perspectives I’d never considered out of pure ignorance. Maybe that was why I was so fascinated by him.

I was lost in thought as Emil made his way back to our room.

Melanie nudged me, so I must’ve missed something.

“What?”

“I asked how your roommate situation is working out this year.”

I cleared my throat. “Uh, good. Emil’s cool.”

“Yeah, he is. And cute,” her friend said. “Too bad he bats for the other team.”

“What are we?” Flash asked, showing off his guns. “Chopped liver?”

When she gave him a pointed look, everyone laughed.

After another hour, I retired to my room as well, though Melanie seemed disappointed. When I got inside, Emil was tucked in his bed and reading something on his phone. I felt this urge to climb under his covers and get comfy with him.

Christ, I needed to figure this shit out.

I got ready for bed, then climbed into my own sheets and cut the lights.

“I don’t know how you can stand those jackasses sometimes,” he said.

“I thought you have fun when we all hang out.”

“I do,” he replied almost begrudgingly. “But then they say something sexist, and I remember what pigs guys can be.”

“Well, you’re a guy. Are you saying you’re more enlightened than the rest of us?” I teased.

He shifted toward me. “I’m a gay dude, so I can understand how stereotypes are used.”

“I get what you mean. Stereotypes can sting.”

“Are you saying that from experience?”

“Uh-huh. How do you think I got my nickname?”

“From being a big and burly football player? Though I’ve always thought it didn’t fit quite right.”

I stared at the ceiling, suddenly nervous. “My nickname as a kid was Bonehead. By high school, it got shortened and has come to mean something different—thankfully.”

“Damn, I’m sorry.” I could hear the frown in his words. “I hope you don’t think I feel that way about you. Sure, you’ve said ridiculous things, but that’s not because you’re stupid.”

“Sometimes I make impulsive decisions, and other times… I guess I just didn’t know any better.”

“When you know better, you do better,” he murmured.

“Is that one of those affirmations or proverbs or something?”

Emil huffed out a laugh. “Probably. But it’s what my dad always says.”

“I suppose it’s true.” My gut tightened. “I hope you at least think I’m trying…to change, to be better at some things.”

“For sure. You’re totally less of a dude-bro lately.”

I grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should. I like hanging out with you,” he admitted. “But you better not tell anyone. I’ll deny it.”

“I like hanging out with you too.” I grinned so hard my teeth hurt.

His tone sobered when he said, “And when I call you a dork, I’m using it like a synonym for silly. And I mean it affectionately or whatever. But I’ll stop if you⁠—”

“No, I like it. It’s kind of our thing.”

He snickered. “It is, isn’t it?”

My stomach flooded with warmth. Damn, what was happening to me where Emil was concerned?

The room grew quiet, and I replayed what had transpired in the common room.

“Did you use to play spin the bottle? I mean, when you were twelve.”

“Yeah, I remember it well.” His laugh was humorless. “I felt sorry for the girls paired with me though. I had no interest.”

“Then why’d you participate?”

“Obviously, to try and fit in. It’s hard when you’re a kid.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” I thought back to my younger days and all the stupid shit I’d done. “There was this one time at a party in middle school where the bottle spun to a guy, and we acted all hyper-masculine about it.”

“I can totally picture it,” he said with a hollow laugh. “Why does that particular memory stand out to you?”

“Because…had people just been chill, I could’ve gotten my first guy kiss over with.”

Oh my God, did that mean I’d decided I wanted it to happen for real? I felt lightheaded.

“Are we seriously back to this again?”

“What? It’s true.”

“And you might’ve hated the kiss because of the person, not just their gender. It’s not like a magical elixir where you kiss any guy or girl and it feels right. The person could be all wrong.”

“Fine,” I muttered. “You’ve got a point.”

He grew quiet, then blurted, “What the hell is going on with you?”

“I honestly don’t know,” I admitted. “Just something I’ve been thinking about.”

We stared at each other across the dark room, and I could just make out his glowing eyes.

“Is that why you were teasing me about kissing the other night? To see what it’s like with a guy?”

“I…yeah, I guess.” My heart was beating hard against my chest. I couldn’t believe I was being brave enough to confess that. “I’m sorry if I pissed you off or freaked you out.”

“You didn’t freak me out. Plenty of straight guys are bi-curious.”

“Really?” That was not something I’d ever considered before, nor had to. I felt so stupid and uninformed.

“Of course. But this isn’t like Henry’s situation, where he knew he was gay but had never kissed a guy before Lark.”

“Oh damn, okay. I didn’t know that.”

“Well, shit, I assumed you knew… Don’t say anything to him⁠—”

“I won’t!” Besides, then I’d have to explain why this topic came up. But I did feel bad that Henners might’ve felt he could never confide that to someone like me. Someone who joked around too much and didn’t understand the gravity of the situation. “Obviously, this is not like that. This is me trying to understand why I keep thinking about certain things.”

“Like what?”

My stomach clenched. “I’m scared to say it out loud.”

“You don’t have to.” His tone softened. “But if you ever do, it would be kept confidential. Like the facials.”

Even though I couldn’t make out his face, I could see the grin.

“I think I need to just say it already.” I took a deep breath. Then two more. “Why do I like being around you, sleeping next to you, the sound of your laugh, and the feel of your skin?” I put my hands on my face. “Fuck, I can’t believe I just admitted that out loud.”

“It’s all right,” Emil replied in a wobbly voice like he didn’t know what to make of my confession. I still couldn’t look at him. “You obviously have a friend crush on me. I am the ultimate roommate.”

My head sprang up. “Is that a thing?” Maybe I’d just never heard of it. Had it happened with other guys over the years? Not that I could think of. “You mean like a bromance?”

There was nervous laughter. “I was just messing with you. I don’t even know how to respond.”

“I’m so embarrassed.” My stomach ached. “You’ve never had those thoughts about me?”

“Sure, maybe once or twice. But I also know you’re straight—at least I thought you were—and us gay guys know how to shift gears when that happens. Mostly. I mean, you’re cute and hella hot in your uniform, and sometimes you’re a dork and make me laugh, but that’s as far as it’s gone.”

He thought I was hot in my football gear?

My face was burning up. Never had I been this nervous around him before—around anyone, really.

“If you want to kiss a guy to see what it feels like, just ask.”

I pushed the words past my lips. “I already did.”

“Yeah, but I thought you were being a jerk. Now I understand better.”

My pulse was thumping in my throat. “Can I…kiss you?”

“Sure, why not?” He rolled out of bed and walked the few steps to mine. “Let’s get this over with so you can move on with your dude-bro life.”

He sat on the edge of my mattress while I sat up and got situated. Was this really happening? I nearly shouted psych to ease the tension but realized I really wanted this.

Emil leaned forward and placed his hand against my neck. Our eyes met as he waited for me to make the first move. Could I do this?

Two deep breaths, and then I closed the distance between us and brushed my lips against his. But it didn’t feel like enough to test this whole kissing thing out, so I did it again and again, pressing harder each time. His lips were smooth and soft, and he tasted like the cherry ChapStick he liked to wear.

When I heard the faint groan in the back of his throat, I crushed our mouths together. Our tongues met, and fucking hell, it was like fireworks went off in my brain.

My hand wound around his neck to keep him right there because I couldn’t stop now—I didn’t want to stop. It turned wild with our hands groping, our mouths and teeth and tongues in a frenzy to keep kissing and get closer to each other.

When I pulled him forward by winding my hands in his shirt, he pushed aside the covers and straddled my lap. And hell, if I thought my cock was stiff before, this position was even more intense.

“If you want to stop, just tell me,” he said, panting against my lips.

I answered by devouring his mouth. At that moment, it was the best thing I’d ever tasted.

I grabbed his ass as I plundered his mouth.

My balls ached so fucking badly that I needed a release.

As he rutted against me, the room spun, and my orgasm came out of nowhere, hitting me like a freight train.

“Emil!” I called out, grabbing him and burying my face in his neck.

“It’s okay…you’re okay,” he murmured, rubbing my back.

“Fucking hell, I can’t believe I just came in my pants.”

He chuckled. “Been there. It happens.”

“Fuck, it’s just… I couldn’t stop.” I peeked up at him, at his glistening lips and wild hair. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m all good.”

He rolled off me, and I could see how hard he was behind his boxer briefs.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go that far.”

“It’s fine.” He angled a hip. “I’m irresistible like that.”

I panted out a breath. “And I thought my ego was large.”

“How do you feel?” His voice was soft. “You okay with what happened?”

I blinked as if coming out of a really fucking good dream. “Yeah, I am.”

“Good.” He backed away. “Gonna go jerk off in the bathroom.”

“No! I want… Can you…do it here?”

He hesitated. “Why?”

“I don’t know why. I just want to watch. To see you.”

“O…okay. Guess I’m too turned-on to care either way.”

He stood in front of me, his hand down his pants, and started jerking himself. I couldn’t really see anything except for his arm moving, but it didn’t take him long to shoot. When he groaned and stiffened, I felt a tingle down my spine.

He walked to the bathroom to wash his hands while I sat there in a daze. The room smelled like our come, and oh my fucking God, I actually got off with another guy.

When he handed me a damp towel to clean up with, I snapped out of it.

“Thanks for the orgasm,” Emil said. “It’ll help me sleep.” He crawled into bed like it was no big thing. Like he hadn’t just rocked my world.

But what did I expect? He thought I was only experimenting. And obviously, I was, but I hadn’t expected to like it so much.

A few minutes later, I could hear him snoring softly, but I knew sleep for me wouldn’t come. I kept replaying what happened. Eventually, I got my legs under me and stumbled to the bathroom to change.

9

EMIL

I met Lark on Monday for lunch in the dining hall during a free period. Thankfully, Bones didn’t have a similar schedule this semester. It was enough that I saw him at band practice on the field and in our room every night. Saturday had been our first home game, and though we won, I didn’t stay long at the clubhouse celebration.

It wasn’t that I was avoiding him. It was just that kissing and getting off together was likely a mistake because it felt awkward between us now. And I didn’t think it was only from my end. I could sense him watching me sometimes like he was trying to feel me out. I couldn’t tell if it was guilt or regret, but he hadn’t even flirted with Melanie or the other cheerleaders after the game.

That was why I’d left the party—to give him room to breathe.

“What’s going on with you?” Lark asked, picking at his salad. “You seem distracted lately.”

“Do I?” I supposed I was. The fact that Lark noticed wasn’t exactly good. “I can’t tell you, even if I want to…”

“I’d totally keep your confidence.” He tapped my wrist. “You kept mine.”

Last year, I’d guessed that Lark and Henry were hooking up on the regular, but Henry hadn’t been out, so I’d kept my mouth shut and watched from a distance as they grew closer. They were cute together, and I was happy for them.

But this situation was different, and I was dying to talk to someone about it. Even in general terms. “Okay, well… I hooked up with a jock who’s never been with a guy before. It was mostly kissing. Really awesome kissing. But now it feels awkward seeing him around.”

“Oooh, I think I know where you’re going with this. But is it uncomfortable because you want more—or maybe he does?”

“Oh God, I have no idea. There hasn’t been a follow-up discussion. It only happened once, and I’m pretty sure that’s the end of it.”

“You dodged my question,” he said, and I huffed out a laugh. “Do you want more?”

“More orgasms, maybe, but nothing else. I don’t have time for anything else.”

“Those were my famous last words,” he joked.

I gulped down my uneasiness. “Probably not a good idea to get involved with another athlete who’s only experimenting. That didn’t turn out so well in high school.”

“Been there.” He frowned. “But sometimes it’s harder than it seems. Especially if the experience was that good.”

I sighed dreamily. “Tell me about it.”

“Well, I’m here for you. We might need to establish an after-jock support group.”

“You won’t be needing one anytime soon,” I replied.

“I sure hope not.”

“Henry is madly in love with you. That much is obvious.”

A blush crawled across his cheeks. “It’s definitely mutual.”

“Ugh, stop with the sappy heart eyes,” I teased as I stood to throw out my trash. “Let’s get to class.”

We changed in the locker room located in the Performing Arts building, then headed to ballet class. I was excited for the upcoming autumn recital because last year’s was a blast, and this time, I was also in a modern-dance number taught by a different professor.

We took our places in front of the mirror, gripping the bar as we warmed up with butterfly stretches, shoulder rolls, and barre rises.

The professor was pulled into the hall by another teacher while they discussed something on the sheet of paper they were both pointing at.

She frowned as she came back inside the classroom. “Attention, class. Since we’ve had a couple of students drop out, we no longer have enough female dancers to partner with the male dancers. So I’m going to rethink the Romeo and Juliet performance for the fall recital.”

A few students groaned. We’d been consistently practicing the past couple of weeks, and the choreography was rigorous but kickass.

“Can’t we just have two guys pair up?” I asked.

“It involves lifts, but…I suppose I can ask students from the evening class if we can rearrange⁠—”

“I’ll do it,” Lark’s voice rang out.

“Do what?”

“Take one of the female roles. I’ve always wanted to wear a tutu,” he said, and some students chuckled.

She huffed out a frustrated breath. “No, you couldn’t⁠—”

“Why not? It’ll be all the rage if we pull it off. Plus, why does gender matter?”

“Right?” a male student said. “Back in Shakespeare’s time, men would play both roles.”

“That’s because women didn’t have rights,” a female student argued, and the other female students concurred. “But I agree, gender doesn’t really matter nowadays.”

“I’m willing to be paired with a male dancer too,” the first student said.

Lark bit his lip as he waited for the professor to make a decision. I could tell how much he wanted this. There was a light in his eyes I hadn’t seen before.

“What does the rest of the class think?” she asked.

There was rousing applause in favor of the idea.

“Okay…we can try it,” she said, then told Lark, “Partner up with Emil, and we’ll see how it goes.”

She took us through the steps, and then we practiced with the music. Every time there was a misstep, she would start us all over again.

When it came to a lift, it wasn’t much different to do it with Lark, except maybe for the weight distribution. He was really lovely as he expanded his arms and moved from a dead lift to a deep bend, then to an assisted lift, where he got a running start.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

“Hell yeah,” he replied as I set him down. “Can’t wait to tell Henry.”

After my afternoon class, I begrudgingly changed for band. I was feeling achy and tired, so either lifting Lark was more challenging than I thought, or I was taking on too much. But I’d had the same schedule last year and fared just fine. Maybe it was more about spending too many late nights watching anime and having long conversations with my roommate. Which led to a make-out session.

As we marched across the field, my gaze naturally traveled to the football team, homing in on number forty-two. Those tight practice shorts were hot, even with the padding. Damn it, I hadn’t thought of him in quite that way before those strong arms gripped my back as we rutted together.

Nope, need to shut down that line of thinking.

By the time we grabbed dinner and made it back to the dorm, I was exhausted. Jonah was joining the students having a movie night in the common room, but I begged off.

I probably shouldn’t have because when I got to the room, we both averted our eyes, and I hated that it felt like I was walking on eggshells. We had finally found some common ground this semester, and now this.

Once I pulled out my laptop to check assignments, I couldn’t hold back. “I can’t take it anymore.”

Bones looked up from his textbook. “What are you on about?”

“Stop making what happened between us a bigger deal than it needs to be. You’ve hooked up with plenty of people, and so have I.”

“Have you?” he asked as if he didn’t know about Grindr or me.

“What?” I folded my arms. “You thought I was some sort of monk?”

“No, sorry. I just can’t stop thinking about what guys do when they’re together.”

I wasn’t sure where he was going with this. “Because it’s hot?”

“Well, yeah…” He looked away. “But also…replaying what happened between us makes me hard.”

Jesus, what was I going to do with this one?

“So maybe you should hook up with more guys and decide what you like,” I suggested. “Figure out if you’re bi or pan or whatever.”

“But what if I want to hook up again…with you?”

Ugh, why did that make my stomach feel all fluttery?

“Do you really think that’s a good idea? Look how awkward it is between us.”

“I’m sorry if this is making you uncomfortable. I never really felt this way before.”

“What way?”

“Like there’s this itch under my skin to touch you again, kiss you. Constantly thinking about it is fucking with my brain.”

Well, my brain just officially exploded. Had anyone ever said those words to me before? This was all new to Bones, and his admission had been raw and vulnerable, but none of this was a good idea.

“God, what were we thinking?” I threw myself against my pillow. “I guess we weren’t. I thought it would be one kiss, and we’d laugh it off.”

“So did I.” He frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.” I sat up and folded my feet beneath me. “I don’t want you to feel bad about discovering your sexuality. I just don’t know if I can be that guy you experiment with. It could go south quickly, and we still have to live with each other.”

He sounded defeated. “I hear you.”

“Can we just go back to how things were? If you need advice or to talk about anything in private, I’m your guy. I can also help you set up a Grindr account.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Why the fuck did he have to look so bummed?

“I’m sorry. I⁠—”

“Please, Bones, stop apologizing. I really enjoy your friendship, and I don’t want to ruin that. We’re roommates, and it can get really hairy.”

“You said hairy!” he guffawed.

Oh God, I’d created a monster.

10

BONES

Practice felt grueling today, and the heat didn’t help.

Thankfully, the marching band moved to the far end of the stadium for most of their practice because I was so out of sorts that I even missed a key tackle. Not that it was Emil’s fault. I was simply distracted. And Coach knew it, but he also sent me to the sidelines for water, likely nervous I’d be the next to pass out.

Since that conversation with Emil last week, I’d let him set me up with the hookup app, but I hadn’t used it. Couldn’t even open it. He’d assured me it was perfectly okay to take my time or not engage on the site at all. He was being supportive in all the right ways, except the way I really needed. But I also got why he was keeping his distance. I didn’t want to wreck our friendship-slash-roommate situation either.

“The heat getting to you?” A-Train asked.

“Probably.” I took another swig from the water bottle.

A-Train put his hand up to shield the sun. “Aren’t those your parents?”

I followed his line of sight to where my mom and dad were walking toward the field. Why hadn’t they given me a heads-up that they were visiting the campus?

I waved as they came closer to the stands. It wasn’t like they’d never watched me practice, but it was rare at the college level, so likely there was some kind of business they’d had to attend to in this part of town.

Having my parents there snapped me into action.

“I’m ready to go back in, Coach.”

“You sure?”

“Yup. Drank plenty of water.”

I wanted to do well for them, to be as good as my brother.

I jogged out to the field and got in formation at the line of scrimmage with renewed vigor. And then practically tore up my shoulder as I clashed with an offensive lineman in a way-too-animated tackle. I was an idiot and proved nothing except that I didn’t have enough poise to dominate on the field. And this was why I would never measure up to Brody.

Staring at the sky from the position on my backside, I was too embarrassed to look anywhere else but at the trainer checking my shoulder.

“I’m okay,” I said as he helped me sit up.

“Save that kind of energy for the game,” Coach warned, obviously knowing I was trying too hard.

Some of the band members had gathered, watching, including Emil. He seemed concerned, as did my parents, who were now standing. When I got to my feet, I gave everyone a small wave to let them know I was fine then finished practice without issue.

As the guys went to the locker room, I made a beeline for the fence, where my parents were waiting. “What a nice surprise. What brings you here?”

“We won’t be able to make it to Parents’ Day this year, so we thought we’d join you for dinner.”

Parents’ Day was an annual event for families to visit campus and interact with professors and students. I’d hoped they’d be able to learn more about the sports-medicine department. For them to see I was serious for a change. Oh well.

“Why can’t you make it?” I tried not to sound too glum.

“We have the annual fundraiser for the troops overseas. There’s just too much to do.” The fundraiser started the year after Brody died. It gave my parents something to put their energy into.

“That’s right. Guess I forgot.” I’d helped every single year, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I was relieved that my parents hadn’t expected me to attend either year of college since all our games were on Saturdays.

“How could you forget? It’s every fall.” There was underlying frustration in Dad’s reply. “The date this year just happens to coincide with Parents’ Day.”

“Sorry, kiddo,” Mom said, her tone more sympathetic.

“No worries. That’s more important.”

“I knew you’d understand,” Mom replied, and I looked away.

“As far as grabbing dinner,” I said, “some local businesses started Food Truck Tuesdays if that sounds good to you.” I toed a rock. “Unless you want to leave the grounds?”

“No, that’s perfect,” Dad said.

“Okay. Just let me change.”

“Take your time. We’ll stroll around campus and meet you near the dorm.”

I couldn’t take my time, not where they were concerned. I always felt on edge around my parents.

I rushed through a shower and a change of clothes, then started walking toward the dorms. I was surprised to see Emil standing near the steps with my parents.

“That was fast,” Mom said as I tried to tame my panting breaths. “Emil filled us in on the happenings around campus.”

What else had he filled them in on?

I was reading too much into it, clearly. He was only being friendly. No way he’d give away any of my secrets. Not when we’d become each other’s confidants.

“Emil was also telling us about the performing arts program.”

“And you’re in the marching band too?” Dad added. “What a busy schedule you must have.”

“Yeah, he’s always practicing or studying,” I joked.

“You could use more of that,” Dad said teasingly, but I knew that was, in fact, an intentional reminder to apply myself harder.

I averted my eyes when Emil shifted uncomfortably.

“Bruce is busy too. And he definitely studies hard,” Emil said, having my back, and though I was thankful, God, it just felt even more awkward.

“Glad to hear it,” Mom said, gently patting my shoulder. “By the way, you seem to have recovered well out there.”

“Yeah, no big deal. Probably just bruised,” I muttered, then changed the subject. “I’m famished. Want to eat?”

“Will we be able to sit outside?” Dad glanced at the clouds. “Or is rain moving in?”

“Let me check.” I rolled my wrist to look at my smartwatch, which had been a gift from my parents to help keep me organized. “Oh shoot.”

“Did you lose your watch?” Mom asked, noticing my bare wrist.

“I must’ve left it in the locker room. I’ll grab it later.”

Mom frowned as Emil punched something into his phone. “It’s not supposed to rain until after midnight.”

“Thanks for that,” I mumbled.

“No problem.” Emil waved as he turned toward the steps. “It was nice seeing you again. Enjoy your dinner.”

“Join us, Emil,” Mom’s voice rang out.

He glanced over his shoulder. “No, I shouldn’t⁠—”

“It’s better than the diner food,” I argued.

When he met my eyes, I gave an imperceptible nod. I could use the interference.

“True. Sounds good.”

We walked toward the curb just outside the university gates, where the food trucks were lined up. We ordered tacos, then found a place to sit at a picnic table near the student center.

Emil devoured his first taco as quickly as I did, but this time, we weren’t competing. Or maybe we were and just didn’t realize. “This is so good,” Emil said.

“Especially after all that practice.” Mom smiled. “Where do you put it?”

“The question is, where does Bruce put it?” Emil smirked, motioning toward my smorgasbord of tacos. “His portions are ginormous.”

“I burn a ton of energy on the field.”

“It’s true. His brother was the same,” Dad pointed out because, of course, he did.

“Brody, right? He played sports at Roosevelt too?” Emil asked, though he knew the answer.

“Football and baseball.” I balled up the wrapper from my third taco. “He was good at everything.”

“Everything he touched was gold,” Dad said in that melodramatic tone his voice took on when he spoke of my brother, and I noted the pain in my mother’s eyes.

“It must be in the genes,” Emil replied. “Bruce is good at football too.”

There was an awkward beat of silence, and just as I was about to change the subject to Parents’ Day, Mom said, “Yes, Bruce favors him.”

I swallowed roughly, deciding that the remaining half of the fourth taco wasn’t worth it, so I pitched it.

“How are your parents doing?” Dad asked Emil. They’d met a handful of times in passing last year.

“Very well. I’ll tell Mom and Dad you asked about them.”

“Good because we won’t be able to make it to Parents’ Day this year.”

“Bummer.” Emil tried to catch my eye, but I wasn’t having it.

“But Bruce understands how important this fundraiser is for service members overseas.”

“It’s dedicated to Brody,” I added, and Dad smiled.

“My parents would probably like information about it,” Emil said. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep Bruce company on Parents’ Day.”

My eyes sprang to Emil’s at that declaration. What the hell did he mean by that? Was he inviting me to hang with him and his parents?

“I’ll have Bruce pass along the information.” Mom smiled. “I’m glad you two decided to room together again.”

Emil returned the grin, then lifted his hand in a wave when he saw Henners and Lark walking hand in hand in our direction. They were coming from the bell tower, and from how messy Lark’s hair looked, I could only imagine what they’d been up to. It was their little sanctuary, apparently. We’d even played a practical joke on them end of last year by tossing a water balloon up there. But it didn’t break, and they tossed it back, drenching Flash in the process. We laughed about it for days.

They waved back, then turned toward the food trucks.

“Isn’t that your quarterback, Henry Albrecht?” Mom asked.

“Yeah, and his boyfriend, Lark,” Emil said. “He’s in dance with me.”

“I didn’t realize…” Dad’s voice trailed off as he watched them, and my stomach tightened.

How could he not? They’d been the focus of quite a bit of gossip last year as we moved into the playoffs. But I supposed they’d never directly asked me before.

“They’re a sweet couple,” Emil said, which I appreciated since I seemed to be momentarily mute.

Mom cast her gaze their way again. “Looks like it.”

What would my parents think if they knew Emil and I had hooked up and that I wanted to do it again? Especially since they were always opining about my future and marriage and babies.

Just like Brody wanted. Nothing like living for Brody’s dreams instead of my own. Though I didn’t really have any to offer, so what did I expect?

Once we were finished eating, we walked toward the parking lot with my parents. “Thanks for the visit.”

Dad gave me a hug, and Mom bussed my cheek. I knew they loved me and meant well, but I still saw grief written all over their faces.

“You okay?” Emil asked as we watched them head toward their car. “And I’m not just talking about your shoulder. Though that concerns me too.”

“Yeah, sure. Injuries happen.” I shrugged to show my shoulders were still functional. “But I’m perfectly fine. Guess I got a little carried away out there.”

He grimaced. “Because your parents showed up?”

Was I that easy to read, or did he just pay attention?

“Maybe,” I muttered. “Thanks for running interference, by the way.”

“No problem. Anytime.”

I motioned toward the stadium. “I’m gonna grab my watch. See you back at the room.”

11

EMIL

I didn’t like how downtrodden Bones seemed after the visit with his parents, and now I understood why. They appeared to still be grieving his brother, and whenever the subject was brought up, it was painful for all of them in different ways.

Instead of thinking it through, I jogged to catch up to Bones, wondering if he still needed a friendly face or more distraction.

“Can you still get in?” I asked, coming up behind him.

His body tensed as he glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah, the club manager should still be here.”

“I thought I’d tag along in case you wanted company.”

His smile was sad. “Thanks.”

I followed him inside to a hallway with several doors. He waved to the club manager, who was busy stacking equipment in a storage area. “I forgot something.”

“No worries,” the man replied absently as he pulled a box toward him.

Bones pulled open a heavy metal door, and I followed him inside the room.

“So this is what it looks like in here.” My voice echoed in the hollow space as I took in the shiny lockers and wooden benches.

“I heard the one in the Performing Arts building is decked out too.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice but smaller. Maybe because we don’t use all that equipment.” Or, more likely, because the football program brought in way more money for the university.

“True.” He gave my body a once-over, his voice turning husky as he said, “You only need to store those thin tights.”

My skin prickled as I cleared my throat. “They help us glide around the stage more easily.”

“Makes sense.” He raised a shoulder. “Told you I don’t dance.”

“Because you don’t know how?” I asked, and he nodded. “You just gotta shuffle your feet.”

“Yeah, right. It can’t be that simple.”

“Obviously, there’s complicated choreography during performances, but if you’re in a crowd in the middle of a dance floor, it’s easy. Watch.” I stepped closer and started moving my hips to imaginary music.

“But you’ve got rhythm. I don’t.”

My hands latched on to his waist. “Oh, I bet we could put those hips to work.”

“Jesus, do you hear yourself?” His fingers grazed my shoulder. “You’re not making this easy. You’re driving me crazy.”

I stepped back. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I just…never mind.”

When he turned to open his locker, I said, “Tell me.”

He grabbed his watch and strapped it on his wrist. “I can’t stop thinking about that night and what it would feel like to…”

My heart started pattering. “To…?”

“Touch each other again. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that.” I momentarily screwed my eyes shut. “We’d both have to agree that it would only be another one-off.”

He huffed out a harsh breath. “I can…agree to that. Just please… I want…”

He was practically trembling with need as I stepped closer. When our eyes locked, he swore under his breath as he anchored his back against his locker.

I didn’t want to give in—to him, to this. But fuck, I wanted him, and that made my cock grow uncomfortably thick inside my sweats, the material suddenly feeling unpleasantly rigid.

“Take out your dick,” I said, and he immediately complied by unbuttoning his jeans and shoving the waistband down his hips.

Well, damn, that was easy. His cock sprang free, beautifully flushed and leaking, and I practically drooled at the sight. Giving head was one of my favorite things, and I was dying to show him why.

“Now what?” Bones’s cock flexed, a bead of precome forming at the tip.

When I dropped to my knees, the floor felt hard and cold, but I didn’t care. All I wanted right then was to have his shaft between my lips.

“Holy shit, is this really happening?” Bones shuddered as he gripped his length and stroked it root to tip. A thrill shot through me, not only that I was finally getting a chance to touch his silky-warm skin, but that he was as turned-on as me.

“Unless you don’t want this?” I teased, then blew a steady breath across his shaft.

“I swear to God, if you’re messing with me, I might combust from blue balls.”

I chuckled as I rubbed my cheek against the coarse material of his jeans. I could smell him, and the scent was overpowering. Like sweat and soap and the musk of his arousal, and I wanted him between my lips so bad that my mouth watered.

“Let me have a taste.” When I stuck out my tongue, he fed the tip to my eager lips. Licking the slit, I was rewarded with a salty burst of precome.

“Okay…now I might die,” he rasped.

“You won’t.” I snickered. “I promise not to let you.”

My smirk under lock and key, I glanced up at him and recognized the same excitement and longing and raw need from that time we made out in the room. That gave me all the confidence I needed.

Leaning forward, I kissed his shaft, noting how hard and warm it felt against my lips. I mouthed his length up and down, giving the shaft little licks as I went. Bones tipped his head and groaned, his lower back planting against the locker for leverage.

I drew back to admire his plump shaft as it flexed against his abdomen. I placed my nose directly against the base and sniffed. I needed his cock in my mouth like I needed air, but I also wanted to take my time. Or maybe I just liked teasing him like this.

A shudder quaked across his shoulders when I looked up at him, his eyes wide with wonder, a mix of unrestrained lust and disbelief.

Moving lower, I nuzzled his balls, savored the smell of his skin, and felt his coarse pubes rub my chin.

I heard the groan in the very back of his throat as he screwed his eyes shut. “You gonna suck me already?”

“So impatient.” I dragged his pants down to his knees to give me unfettered access.

“Of course I am. In case you didn’t notice, you’re kill⁠—”

To shut him up, I licked his cock lengthwise, starting at the base and flicking out my tongue when I reached the crown.

“Fuck,” he bit out as I circled the underside, his fingers grappling against my shoulders.

But it wasn’t until I opened my lips and felt them stretch around his plump shaft that I heard the satisfaction in his groan.

I shut out all the noises and concentrated on the sensations I was feeling in that moment. His velvety skin as I laved his length, the taste of his precome on the roof of my mouth… I felt compelled to give him this, to show him how good it could be. Not that he’d never had blowjobs before, but for some reason, I needed him to know I was the best he’d ever had.

Even though this was only another one-off.

Yeah, confusing.

I didn’t know how many minutes passed as my tongue bathed him with my slick saliva. My jaw was aching, my knees were sore, but hearing him lose his shit was worth it. I’d had to shush him a couple of times in case someone heard us.

“Fuck, okay.” Bones wound his fingers in my hair—tentatively at first, then burrowing deeper. “Can’t help it. So good.”

My eyes rolled into the back of my head because I fucking loved hearing it, loved that I was driving him to the brink.

He gripped a fistful of hair as he rocked against me, and my scalp smarted. “I need to come so bad, but I also don’t want to because it feels amazing.”

“Give it to me.” I licked around his crown. “Fuck my mouth.”

His eyes blazed as he fisted his bulging cock and eagerly fed it to my lips. My hands gripped his thighs as he began thrusting into my mouth. My lips tunneled down his shaft, my tongue working a vein as he squarely hit the back of my throat. My gag reflex almost kicked in as his hips began pumping in earnest, his dick stretching my mouth wide.

Another second more and his back bowed, a strangled groan burst from his lips, and his jizz coated the back of my throat. My eyes watered as I gulped him down, my own cock stiff as hell. I’d have to handle that later.

Bones swayed against the locker, his fingers still gripping my skull. His cock jerked as he finished and softened in my mouth, completely spent.

I released my grip and gazed up at him as Bones slid his hands from my hair.

He blinked and stared down at me as if awakening from a dream.

“Are your knees okay?” He tugged on my arm, helping me stand.

“Who knew you were such a caretaker?” I smirked. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“All right, good.” He looked momentarily uncertain, then asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Fucking hell, this guy.

“That’s probably not a good idea if this is only a hookup.”

He frowned. “Yeah, okay.”

He looked so defeated that I grabbed his face and planted one on him anyway. He moaned against my mouth, no doubt tasting himself on me. And obviously enjoying it, or maybe just enjoying kissing, who knew. He sure was surprising me.

12

BONES

The following morning, I was sitting outside during a free period with Henners, Lark, Flash, and a couple of cheerleaders, including Melanie.

I was still reeling from what had happened in the locker room with Emil. I didn’t know what I would’ve done if someone had walked in on us, but I’d been so far gone I wouldn’t have even minded.

When I spotted him walking with Leah and Justin, I couldn’t draw my eyes away.

I took a moment to look at Emil. Really look at him. His skinny jeans, graphic tee that read Dance Is Life, his lean body, and tight muscles. And those lips. The same lips that wrapped around my cock so expertly. It wasn’t that I’d never gotten a blowjob before, but it felt different with him. Except, other than him being a guy, I couldn’t put my finger on why.

Emil was hot…and pretty. Christ, what was I saying? I’d thought of women as pretty before, never a guy. But Emil was pure, unassuming attractiveness. And he didn’t even realize it was rolling off him in waves.

Why hadn’t I seen it before? From his long eyelashes to his pouty lips. The way his cheeks turned pink even while wearing that smirk.

Damn, I wanted him. In every way.

What would my parents or my teammates think? They came around with Henners and Lark, so it would likely be a nonissue. So why did my skin feel so tight?

“What are you staring at so intently?” Melanie asked.

“Nothing. Oh, there’s my roommate.” I lifted my hand to wave them over so it would seem like I’d just noticed him. When they saw us, they headed in our direction.

“I didn’t realize you two were so tight,” Melanie remarked.

“We’re not—not really. But I’ve gotten to know him better this year.” Understatement. “We joke that we have a bromance going on.”

Why the fuck did I just admit that out loud?

I could feel Melanie watching me. “Like a crush on a guy friend?”

My heart thrummed as Flash barked out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” I asked Flash.

“Nothing. Just the idea of you having a thing for another guy.”

“Nothing wrong with it if he did,” Henners said, a warning in his tone.

“Of course not.” Flash held up his hands, trying not to rock the boat with our team captain like he had last year. “It’s more about Bones being interested in anyone for more than one night.”

Lark was staring at me like he could see underneath all my defenses to my raw longing.

Melanie frowned. “Would be sweet if he was.”

I cleared my throat and looked away. “Nope, not for me.”

I didn’t even know if that was true anymore. My thoughts had been solely centered on Emil lately. I wanted to know everything about him, which was why our nightly talks were so fun and interesting. And I’d shared stuff with him in return, more than I had with anyone else besides my dead brother.

I just didn’t know what to make of these newfound feelings. And I certainly didn’t want to freak him out. It almost felt like he didn’t take me seriously, and I got it because up until now, I hadn’t taken myself seriously. I’d always gone with the flow and tried to do the right thing so my parents would notice me—but I always fell short anyway.

Except, this year, things seemed to be clicking into place, with my sexuality and with classes I was actually enjoying, so maybe my future was finally taking shape.

Emil plopped down next to Lark while Justin and Leah took seats at the end of the picnic table. When our gazes clashed, Emil averted his eyes. What would he say if he knew the thoughts running through my head on the regular?

Which only punctuated another issue—Emil insisting that what we’d done wasn’t a big deal. And I could understand why. To a point. Maybe I was just another hookup to him—he’d already said as much—but then, how did that explain catching him also staring at me a little too long sometimes…unless it was only wishful thinking.

I guess karma was a bitch. I suddenly saw Melanie’s sulking in a new light, and I wanted to show her kindness without leading her on. Likely the same thing Emil was thinking. I’d been as clear with Melanie after our hookups as Emil had been with me. But now it felt different with the shoe on the other foot.

A few minutes later, everyone cleared out to get to their next classes, leaving me, Emil, and Lark.

“You don’t have a class?” Emil asked Lark.

“Not until noon.” He stood and grabbed his bag. “I have to get to the library.”

We watched Lark go, the air feeling dense between us.

Emil secured his bag on his shoulder. “I’m gonna head to the coffee cart.”

That was another new addition the university had provided after students complained about the weak selection in the dining hall.

I jumped up and fell in step with him. “Mind if I tag along?”

“You don’t even drink coffee.”

“But they have hot chocolate, and I like that.”

He smirked. “Of course you do.”

“What?”

“You’re such a kid.”

“At least I’m not the one hooked on caffeine. And besides, you know damned well I’m not a kid.”

I saw the line of red forming on his cheeks. “It’s good you don’t drink coffee,” he said as if clinging to that safe topic. “You’d probably be even more annoying.”

“It apparently has the opposite effect on you. Makes you less crabby,” I pointed out. “You should keep some in the room.”

“No, that would be dangerous. One time last year, I drank too much. My hands were shaking so hard that I had to leave class and walk twelve blocks to calm down. It felt like my heart was gonna escape from my chest.”

Kind of how I felt the other night when he went down on me. “Got it. Copious amounts of coffee is not good for you.”

At the cart, Emil ordered for both of us, and as he was pulling out his card, I stepped in front of him. “I got this.” When Emil opened his mouth to protest, I said, “Your treat next time.”

“Next time?” He grabbed a stirrer and a napkin. “Is this part of our new routine?”

“Why not? Isn’t that what bromantic friends do?”

He looked away, but I could see that his mouth had tilted upward.

We grabbed our drinks and left the line. “I suppose if you’re gonna continue keeping me up late with your ridiculous questions, you might actually owe me a coffee.”

“You can always tell me to shut up.”

He threw me a sideways glance. “Not sure that would work.”

I stopped in my tracks, wondering if I was reading him all wrong.

Shit, did he not enjoy our talks or banter as much as me?

“I’m just messing with you.” He playfully nudged my shoulder. “You should see your face.”

I rolled my eyes, but relief flooded my stomach. “Okay, whatever.”

When the first raindrops hit my cheek, I glanced up to see the storm clouds moving in.

“I’m gonna find a table in the student center to study for my music-theory quiz tomorrow.” Emil raised an eyebrow. “What about you?”

“Ugh, I’ve got a paper to write for my nutrition class.”

“You’re free to join me. I did tell your parents that you work hard. I might get extra points if I keep you on track too.”

I liked the sound of that for entirely different reasons.

“Knowing you, that would probably work.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked as we made it to the steps before getting completely drenched.

“You’ve obviously charmed them. They like you. I can’t imagine why.”

“Hey!”

We bumped shoulders and laughed.

It was crowded in the student center, but we were able to find two seats at a sorority table lined with markers and poster boards for some event.

“Hey, Bones.” Heather waved.

“Hey,” I replied absently, not really paying attention to who was around us.

When Emil smirked, I said, “What?”

“Nothing. It’s just…in case you were worried your football-god status was revoked, I can assure you it definitely wasn’t.”

I quirked a grin. “I can’t help it that everyone finds me irresistible.”

Except maybe him.

He snorted a laugh as I sank down in one of the seats, and there was barely enough room for Emil to squeeze by to the other chair. As he sat, his knee slid against mine, and I could’ve sworn I heard a breath catch in the back of his throat. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Besides, we’re lucky we found somewhere to sit with the rain coming down.”

His gaze followed mine to the overcrowded space, students sitting on the floor and at tables, trying to make room for themselves until the end of the period or the rain, whichever came first.

I opened my laptop while he pulled out a music textbook and study sheet with notes. I wrote the introductory paragraph for my paper, pretending to be invested in the subject, all the while appreciating the musky scent of rain lingering between us, our hair and skin still damp from outside.

Emil’s book remained open, but he never turned the page. Instead, his pen moved in the side margins of his study sheet, drawing what looked like musical notes and chords, as if he had a song stuck in his head. I wouldn’t call him on it, but it was fucking cute.

The longer we sat there, the more I noticed how his chest moved up and down as short breaths burst from his pouty lips. When our forearms inadvertently brushed as he reached down to retrieve his pen, a spark of electricity surged through me. The way I felt about Emil was confusing, but I sure as hell hoped I’d have the opportunity to figure it all out.

We worked until the rain died down and the center started clearing out again. The sorority sisters left our table with their supplies in tow, and though we had plenty of room now, he didn’t move his chair and neither did I.

“Emil?” I whispered without looking directly at him.

He took a deep breath before answering. “Yeah?”

“Do you feel it too?” I was completely serious, but I couldn’t help tucking a smile in my cheek, anticipating Emil’s reaction. I knew he would think I was full of shit, but I enjoyed stirring him up anyway. I loved catching him off-guard. That moment when his expression was real, pure, and full of wonder before he buttoned it down.

He threw me a wary glance as if anticipating something crude. “Feel what?”

“This thing in the air…between us. I can’t be the only one who feels it,” I said, capturing his eye.

He moved his chair over an inch. “That’s just you being a horndog.”

My mouth dropped open before recovering. That stung. But I figured it was his defense mechanism after the roller coaster we had last year. Trying not to feel anything that resembled affection or fondness after we’d lobbed insults back and forth. I got it. I did. It was exactly how I felt after he’d rocked my world—twice now.

“That’s not true,” I replied, tempering my tone. “Too bad you can’t admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“That you like being around me all the time. That you find me irresistible too.” I ran my palms over my jeans because my hands were suddenly sweaty.

“As if you don’t already know you’re a hot guy.” He scoffed. “And I told you, I do like hanging out with you, but I don’t want to ruin stuff between us.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Unless we’re clear that we’re just hooking up.”

“Exactly.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unable to meet my eyes. “And I also don’t want to be your experiment. Been there, done that. That guy I thought I was in love with, remember? When all was said and done, it left me feeling pretty hollow.”

I felt something unlatch in the very center of me because he was describing my sentiments on any number of occasions. But in my case, it was because I was just going through the motions, trying to fill myself up and feel accomplished or satisfied—at least in my parents’ eyes.

The air suddenly felt so heavy I was choking on it.

“Empty, huh?” I fiddled with the hem of my shirt, trying to find something to lighten the mood. “I’d definitely fill you up.”

He turned his head, his smile trying to break free. “Do you ever not say inappropriate things?”

“I’m a work in progress. But I’ll admit I like that look you get in your eyes when I say something that trips you up.”

“What look?”

“It’s hard to describe. Your expression turns…soft. Fucking adorable.”

And disarming. Which only made me want to pull him into my arms and press my mouth to those soft lips…

He began packing his stuff. “Now I know you’re full of crap.”

“Think whatever you want, but it’s true.” I shrugged and closed my laptop. “I’m not sure why you don’t believe me.”

He clicked a message on his phone, smiled, then glanced at me. “Have you used the app yet?”

“No, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“The same as what?”

“Like, natural, the way it does with you.”

“How do you even know that yet?” He stood and grabbed his bag. “Someone might surprise you.”

“I guess so,” I muttered as he waved goodbye and walked away.

The student center had cleared out, but I had another free period, so I took my things and headed to a more comfortable spot where no one could look over my shoulder.

I opened the app and then promptly closed it. I just wasn’t ready, no matter what Emil said. I knew he was only trying to help—or maybe just trying to get rid of me.

Instead, I opened the search window and typed: Had my first time with a guy and can’t stop thinking about him. What does that mean?

I fell down the rabbit hole of gay forums and websites with all sorts of definitions and identities, and I’ll admit there was one that nearly knocked me off my chair when I read it. Aromantic: someone who doesn’t experience romantic attraction.

Could that be me? But how did that explain what I was feeling toward Emil?

I clicked on another article, and just like that, I had my answer. Demiromantic: Only developing romantic feelings for someone when there is a deeper emotional connection. Demiromantics tend to fall for people they have developed friendships with.

Why did it feel like that label fit me so completely?

Maybe Emil was right. Maybe there was only one way to find out if I connected with others romantically and not just sexually.

I opened the app again, scrolled through, and swiped, telling myself I’d only look.

13

EMIL

I was in the locker room, changing out of my tights for band practice.

“You going to wear that all the way home?” I asked Lark, who was still in his long, sheer ballet skirt from class.

He smiled dreamily, loving the female role he was taking on for the fall recital. “Oh God, no. I wouldn’t want to get it dirty. Just felt like wearing it a little longer.”

“It looks good on you.”

“That’s what Henry says.”

“Does he now?”

A blush inched across his cheeks.

“Anyway…” He stood and opened his locker. “You can tell me it’s none of my business…”

“Uh-oh.” I wondered where this was headed.

“The jock you hooked up with…” He threw me a quick look. “It was Bones, wasn’t it?”

My stomach seized. Fucking hell. I glanced over his shoulder to make sure we were alone. “How did you guess?”

“It’s not hard if you watch him when you’re around.” Lark carefully stepped out of the skirt. “He can barely tear his eyes away from you.”

I swallowed, not wanting to believe it. After our conversation in the student center yesterday, he’d seemed preoccupied, maybe even distant, so I figured the whole thing had only been our usual bantery stuff. Even though it had felt like something more. Something I escaped from facing as soon as I was able. It was too much, too close to the surface, and I didn’t have time to unpack all that. Not now, maybe not ever.

“I think that’s because it’s all new for him.”

Christ, his kisses alone were enough to make me melt.

“Has it happened more than once?”

“Yeah.” I bit my lip and looked away. “But I helped him set up Grindr so he could figure it out.”

I could feel Lark staring at me. “Do you like being with him?”

“Sure, it’s hot.” Smoking hot. “And he can be sweet.”

Even romantic, which he didn’t seem to realize. That was why I called bullshit. He’d be mortified if he knew how he sounded sometimes.

“I can’t believe we’re actually talking about the same person.”

I chuckled as I shut my locker. “Right?”

“But thinking back on it, there’s been sexual tension between you for a while—all that competitiveness and banter last year.”

“No way. I never even thought about him like that until recently.”

“So you do like being with him!”

“I’ve enjoyed the hookups, nothing else. No way would Bones be a guy you’d get serious about.” At least…it felt better telling myself that. “Besides, I’m not looking for anything more than casual.”

“Why not?” He zipped up his bag.

“He literally has never dated anyone before. And I don’t have the time.”

“There’s always a first.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure the future guy or girl he ends up with will reap the benefits.” I rolled my eyes, but my stomach felt uncomfortable even thinking about it.

“Whatever you say. Catch you later.”

After band practice, Jonah and I ate dinner, and then I headed to my room, where I nearly collided with Bones, who was going out the door in his best jeans and smelling good. Had he bought new cologne?

“Where are you off to?”

He fidgeted. “I took your advice. I’m meeting someone I found on the app.”

My stomach dropped, but I plastered on a smile anyway. “Good for you! Don’t worry, I won’t stalk and cock-block you like you did me.”

“I’d probably deserve it.” He backed out of the room and shut the door.

I stood there momentarily dazed, asking myself why I was feeling woozy. Was I only being overprotective, like he’d been that night? Or was it something else?

I convinced myself this was good, especially since it would give him variety and a chance to figure out what he wanted and liked.

I pulled out my laptop to finish homework but could barely concentrate. I couldn’t help thinking about what he was doing with some random guy.

God, I was losing it. It wasn’t like we were dating. In fact, I had explicitly made our boundaries clear.

I finally got settled listening to music on my headphones, and about an hour later, I heard the key in the door.

“Honey, I’m home,” Bones said as he swept inside. He hadn’t brought the guy back here with him, had he?

But no, he was alone. “You dork!”

I watched as he slipped out of his shoes, wondering if it had been a record-breaking hookup. “You good?”

“Yeah, of course. Did you think you’d have to organize a search party to find my body?”

I huffed out a laugh. “I…I’m glad it went well for you.”

“It actually didn’t.” He sat on his bed. “If I’m being honest, I just couldn’t do it.”

“Hey, you didn’t have to do anything.” I set my computer aside, feeling guilty that I’d urged him to meet people. “You could’ve just talked.”

“We did talk, and I…kept drumming up more questions to throw at him so we didn’t have to…” He blew out a breath. “I didn’t even want to kiss him.”

“That’s okay. Not all guys are kissable.”

“But see, that’s the problem. Kissing has always felt like a means to an end—to get off and have fun in the process.” He threaded his fingers through his hair. “I’ve never had this issue with the women I’ve hooked up with. I mean, not really.”

“What issue?”

“It seems that I only feel comfortable…” He angled his head toward the ceiling and shut his eyes. “I only feel like kissing you.”

The butterflies in my stomach began furiously flapping their wings. “Ugh, what am I gonna do with you?”

His features went soft and sort of shy as he met my gaze. “Kiss me back?”

He looked so earnest. How could I resist?

“Come here.” I held out my hand.

He came willingly as our fingers knotted together. “Don’t worry, I’m well aware this is only a hookup.”

“A kissing hookup?” I joked.

“Uh-huh.”

Christ, why was he so sweet?

We got comfortable against my pillows, turned toward each other, and as soon as his lips met mine, I just melted into him. God, his lips were addicting. He was so gentle and eager, and I had no idea how long we stayed that way with our lips joined and our hands in each other’s hair. But my lips were swollen and my tongue felt bruised when we finally came up for air.

“Wanna watch our show and then make out some more?” he asked.

“Sounds good, but only if we can add facials to the mix.”

He grinned. “I owe you, so…”

That was what we did. Facials and Slay, and more of those warm, addictive kisses.

He fell asleep in my bed, and I let him.

I’d deal with the aftermath tomorrow.

14

BONES

Dear Brody,

I’m learning stuff about myself, and it feels overwhelming but also good, really good. You were always so sure of yourself, of your goals and dreams, and I suppose it’s just taking me a bit longer.

I’m enjoying my classes, and I think I finally understand what it means to want to date someone, even if he doesn’t take me seriously yet or isn’t ready for that. Yeah, I said HE. Can you believe it? It’s like it came out of left field for me. But it feels right dead center. I’m bisexual and probably something called demiromantic.

Until we meet again.

B.

We were at an away game in Jersey City, where we’d just pulled off a win against a team we’d struggled to beat last year. I was on a high, not only because our defense performed so well, holding them to only three points, but also because Emil was here with the marching band. And after that make-out session earlier in the week, I kept smiling like a giddy teen who’d just been kissed by his crush. It was so unlike me, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

I’d even caught some of the halftime show by running back to the bench for my water bottle, and I could attest to the fact that they were pretty good. Or maybe I was biased. But when they were all costumed up and in sync, they sounded awesome, and the crowd was really into the music and their formations, though they would’ve been more impressive from a higher level in the stands. I could pick Emil out in a heartbeat, so I planned to tease him later about the ridiculous hats.

“You’ve been different,” Henners said as we were heading back to the hotel.

“How so?” I asked as the bus hit a bump and jostled us.

“I don’t want to make any assumptions, but I think you’re into someone.”

“I am,” I admitted. Likely by now, he’d put two and two together after I’d called him out of the blue the night of the party to ask him questions.

“Is it mutual?”

“Not exactly.” I glanced out the window, unsure where the bus carrying the marching band was in this traffic. “Just keeping it casual.”

He lowered his voice. “But you want more?”

I felt an ache in my chest. “For the first time in my life.”

He thumped my shoulder. “Aww, our baby Bones is growing up.”

“That’s what he…” Fucking hell, I almost outed myself. “Um, Emil was teasing me about that too.”

“Does this mean you pick up your socks now?”

I smirked. “Hell no. I enjoy getting under his skin.”

He threw me a coy look. “Uh-huh, I bet.”

“What does that mean?” Did he suspect?

“Nothing. I can tell you’re trying to figure shit out this year, so I hope good things come your way.”

“Thanks, man.”

After chilling in our rooms for a while, several of us met in the lobby to figure out the rest of our evening. There was a Dave & Buster’s within walking distance from the hotel, and not only did the place, which was like a gigantic arcade, serve food, but it would help us blow off steam.

The moment we stepped inside the large complex and saw all the different types of games, we were like little kids, running from the football pass to a virtual shooting game and even old-school pinball and Skee-Ball machines. It was like a Chuck E. Cheese, but for adults.

When Emil, Jonah, and a few others showed up, we claimed a long table and ordered food while downing our sodas and comparing buckets of tickets we’d won.

Emil and I got into a back-and-forth about a racing game. “I can totally beat you,” I told him.

“Oh, here we go,” Spencer said. “What is it with you two?”

“Do you wrestle each other for the remote in your room too?” Flash said.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Emil winked, and there were murmurs all around.

“What’s the big deal?” I said, hoping the suspicious glances died down. “I’ll gladly show him who’s the king of the world, especially after we dominated in that game.”

Some of the guys fist-bumped me, still on a high after that win.

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that.” Emil wiped his mouth and stood. “Let’s go.”

After I gleefully spanked his ass in the driving game, we spent the next hour traveling from game to game, collecting tickets, and were pretty evenly divided until we saw the Ping-Pong table near the air-hockey machine. “I’m feeling pretty lucky tonight.”

Emil arched a sexy eyebrow. “Are you?”

“That was a double entendre,” I said, proud of myself.

“Yeah, I’m aware, dork.”

He handed me a paddle, then bounced the ball toward my side of the table before I was even in position.

“Hey! No fair. I wasn’t ready!”

“While you were busy using French words to look smart, I already scored.”

“That’s an automatic do-over!”

By the time we were finished playing seven games—where he beat me, of course—we realized everyone had already left. Well, damn, I supposed we really were in our own little world.

Emil glanced at his phone—he had a text from Jonah—while I checked mine. Apparently, our friends had decided to head to a club and were giving us directions so we could join them once we were done trying to outcompete each other, to use A-Train’s phrase.

“Did you want to go?” I asked Emil as we headed toward the exit.

“Yeah, sure. But I have to grab my ID from my room. It’s in the pocket of my other pants. We can grab a car service from the hotel.”

On the way back, the sky unloaded in buckets of rain.

“Holy shit!” We started running, but it was no use. We were drenched. We left a trail of rainwater through the lobby all the way to the elevator, but it couldn’t be helped.

Emil punched the numbers two and four, and I said, “Mind if I just grab a towel in your room to dry off while you find your ID?”

“Is coming to my room a good idea?” Emil asked as we exited on his floor.

“Why not? Jonah’s not there, and besides, maybe I don’t care what people say,” I told him, my heart thumping hard.

Emil scoffed as he keyed into his room. “So you’re ready to come out?”

“What if I am?” I challenged.

“I don’t want to be involved.”

I stood there stunned while he grabbed a couple of towels for us.

“Are you saying you’re embarrassed to be involved with me?” I asked Emil.

“No! And maybe it’s already obvious. We literally ignored everyone to play arcade games.”

“True, and it was awesome.”

“It was, especially the part where I beat you,” he gloated. “What I’m trying to say is, if you’re going to come out, do it on your own terms with your friends and family. I’ll support you no matter what.”

This should probably be the part where I told him about being demiromantic, but I didn’t want to freak him out. It was enough that he hadn’t overanalyzed us making out the other night and me sleeping in his bed. Evidently, he still wanted to keep this thing between us casual, and I had to be okay with that.

“Yeah, you’re right…thanks.”

“Ugh, my hair is a wreck,” he said, glancing in the mirror. “I’m gonna jump in the shower, then change for the club.”

“Wasn’t the downpour we just walked through enough of a shower?”

“You would say that!” He prodded me toward the door. “Go put on dry clothes, then come back down.”

So I did. I went to my room and changed into jeans and a T-shirt. I barely glanced at myself in the mirror before I was out the door.

I’d just lifted my knuckles to knock when I saw he’d used the safety lock to prop the door for me.

I heard the shower going as I let the door shut behind me.

“A serial killer could be in your room right now and you wouldn’t know it,” I called to him through the door.

“True! But I knew you’d be right back down and save me,” he replied, and I chuckled. “You’d also hand me the towel I just used because I gave you the last one.”

I picked up the discarded towel from his bed, then tentatively stepped inside the bathroom. His naked body was on full display, and my cock immediately plumped. Sure, we’d seen each other bare before, but mostly in the dark, and now, under the glaring lights, I couldn’t help gawking.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” he teased.

“Oh, sorry.” I averted my eyes. “I just… I like your body.”

“I like your body too,” he replied, and my gaze sprang to his.

“You do?” I stepped closer.

“I’d invite you in so you could fix your hair too, but you’re anti-shower.”

“Am not!” I finally glanced at myself in the mirror and realized my hair was matted to my forehead. “I’ll prove it.”

I quickly stepped out of my clothes before either of us changed our minds.

“Well, damn, I didn’t think you’d really do it.”

I paused at the shower door. “Do you not want…?”

He looked me up and down. “Have you seen yourself? Of course I want. As long as…”

“As long as we both know this is only a hookup.” I stepped inside. “But who says this is going to be a hookup? Maybe I just like taking showers.”

His laugh echoed through the hollow space, and it was contagious.

He handed me the fancy soap, and I washed my body, enjoying the warm spray. We both shampooed our hair at the same time and kissed as the water washed it from our scalps. He was as hard as I was now.

“I…want to try something.” I reached for his shaft and stroked from root to tip. My dick flexed and my balls tightened at his groan. “Can I suck you?”

“The tile might be bad for your knees,” he said, echoing what I’d said in the locker room. “But I won’t complain.”

I knelt, ignoring the discomfort, and brushed a shaky hand across his abdomen as I took in his cock, which was flushed at the tip, and the wiry hair it was nestled in. Never had I been turned-on by seeing a guy’s goods, and I’d seen plenty in the locker room, but I was by his. I was nervous too, that I wouldn’t be good enough.

Noticing my unease, Emil gripped my shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to⁠—”

“I want to.” Our eyes met. “But I might not be very good.”

“Any way you choose to touch me will turn me on,” he said, tangling his fingers in the wet strands of my hair. And that, his tender tone, and the brush of his fingers helped calm me.

I blew out a breath, then leaned closer, first pressing a kiss to the base of his shaft. When he trembled, it boosted my confidence. I mouthed up and down his cock, taking in his soapy taste and musky scent, then inhaled him like he had me, burying my nose in the prickly hair at his groin. His hands burrowing in my hair told me I was on the right track.

When I licked the tip and tasted precome, my eyes swam. I’d never pictured myself doing something like this, but I fucking loved it.

“Damn, that feels so good.”

That was enough to make me keep going, using my tongue and mouth to lick and kiss his plump dick. When I finally got the courage to open my mouth and suckle the head of his cock, I was rewarded by a full-body shudder.

“Oh God, just like that,” he rasped while I worked a few inches between my lips, trying to get used to how it stretched my mouth and felt against my tongue as I lashed it against the tip. He tasted clean, like soap, but also like Emil too—that toasty-warm smell I’d become accustomed to in our room and in his bed.

I didn’t take him any deeper, not because I didn’t want to choke or make that gagging noise I’d heard from a few women over the years, but because, honestly, I didn’t know if I could. What I was doing felt just right to me, and maybe it did to him too because he moaned and swayed, tightening his fingers in my hair.

I pulled off to catch my breath. Using my fist near the root, I stroked him while twirling my tongue around the glans and across the tip. I was hoping it was good for him, and when I looked up, his eyes were wild, his mouth shiny, and when his fingers dragged across my jaw, my stomach turned to mush.

I took him in my mouth again, this time working his shaft deeper as I bobbed and increased the suction. His moans grew desperate, more frequent, until his back bowed, and he called out, “I’m gonna come.”

I was grateful for the warning, but I didn’t want to pull off. I wanted to experience all of it. When I felt his come shoot against the roof of my mouth, it was a salty surprise. But I worked to swallow it, though I could feel it dripping down my chin too.

He caught his breath as he screwed his eyes shut for a moment, then looked down at me. “Jerk yourself off.”

I took hold of my neglected cock and watched him, that grin of satisfaction, that light in his eyes, and it was enough to make me shoot, my balls emptying down the drain along with the lukewarm water.

I stood on shaky legs and grinned stupidly at him. Just as I was about to open the shower door, he tugged on my arm.

“C’mere,” he said and brushed our lips together as if he knew I was too embarrassed to ask and appear needy.

We stood under the spray with our lips latched together until it was too darned cold.

After we got dressed and he fluffed his hair for way too long, we showed up at the club to meet our friends, and I allowed him to drag me onto the dance floor. I was on such a high that it didn’t even matter that I didn’t know how.

15

EMIL

“I invited Bruce to hang with us tomorrow,” I said during a video call with my parents. I glanced at the door to make sure he hadn’t returned from the dining hall yet. “I knew you’d be cool with it no matter what, but I wanted to give you a heads-up.”

“Well, this is new,” Mom said with a smile. “I thought there was some sort of tension between the two of you.”

“It must’ve been resolved because they agreed to room together again,” my dad replied with a wink.

“There’s still a little tension…” If only they knew what kind of tension. “Especially since we’re both pretty competitive.”

“Let me guess,” Mom said. “Video games and table tennis?”

“Ugh, you know me too well.”

“Well, you did come out of my womb.”

I covered my face. “Okay, never describe it that way again.”

My dad laughed. “So, what’s changed between you and Bruce?”

“We’ve spent plenty of time together, and I understand him better now.” I shrugged like it was no big thing. Like him down on his knees last weekend didn’t star way too often in my thoughts. It’d been sheer desire over skill, but that was what had made it so hot…and special. “Anyway, his parents can’t make it. It has to do with that fundraiser I told you about, in honor of his brother.” Bones had passed the flyer along to me so I could email it to my parents.

“Yes, it sounded very moving,” Mom said. “We plan to donate.”

“Thanks, that’s cool. Anyway, that’s why I invited him along with us.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Mom said. “Seems you’ve grown a bit fond of him.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I averted my eyes. “He’s still a dork.”

Mom made an excited noise. “Wait a minute…do I detect a crush?”

My ears grew hot. “No! Nothing like that.”

“You do seem to gravitate toward athletes,” Dad said. “If my memory serves me well.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. Why do you think I stay firmly in the single category?”

They laughed.

“Remaining single is your choice, and that’s perfectly fine,” Mom said. “But I’m sure plenty of guys can see how adorable you are.”

I screwed up my face. “You have to say that. You’re my mom.”

“And I’m your dad. I wasn’t responsible for producing you, but I did help raise you, and you’ve turned into a wonderful human being. I’m proud of you, son.”

“Ugh, you guys. Stop all the mushiness. You’re killing me.” I lifted a pillow to my face.

I could hear my parents snickering. “Love you. See you soon.”

“Love you too.”

I ended the call and sat there in a daze. My parents were great, and I was lucky. They respected and supported my choices. I wished Bones could feel the same about his family.

And speaking of the devil, the door banged open as he stepped inside. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself. What did the wall ever do to you?”

“Huh?” He looked at the mark left by the door. “Sometimes I don’t know my own strength.”

I rolled my eyes, then made myself comfortable against my pillow. “I told my parents I invited you to hang with us tomorrow.”

“Thanks, but you didn’t have to⁠—”

“You can’t ditch us now. They’re expecting you.”

“Well, when you put it like that.” He toed out of his shoes. “Though I am good at disappointing parents.”

I frowned, recalling the conversation with his parents before Bones showed up from practice that day. I’d laid it on too thick with them, even during dinner, but he didn’t fault me for it. I had the urge to hug him, but we’d done enough of that, along with kissing too, and it was crossing lines all over the damned place.

But I wanted to be there for him as a friend. Thus the invite for tomorrow.

I got busy finishing an assignment while he joined his friends in the common room for a game of cards.

The following morning, the students gathered in the large rotunda, which was decorated with banners and flowers to greet the parents.

I said hello to Lark’s mom and sister, as well as Justin’s and Leah’s parents, before mine finally arrived. Bones had gone off to say hello to his football buddies and their families, and I couldn’t help wondering if he regretted agreeing to join us. More than likely, one of the other guys would’ve made the same offer.

But my worries vanished when he came over to greet my parents as soon as he saw me hugging them. Lark raised an eyebrow at me from across the room, and I just smirked and shook my head. No one else seemed to notice or care that we were hanging out, so maybe they were just used to our friendship by now.

“Nice to see you again, Mr. and Mrs. Ettinger,” Bones said, shaking my dad’s hand.

“You as well,” Mom replied, squeezing his shoulder.

There was a welcome speech from the dean we had to sit through, followed by refreshments and mingling, and then the families were off to meet our teachers.

Bones and I had no overlapping classes, which might’ve been why he seemed to grow sullen. I also knew he’d hoped to show his excitement regarding his new major to his parents.

“I should’ve just stayed in my room,” he muttered out of the earshot of my parents.

“Nonsense. You’d be bored stiff.”

“More bored than I already am?”

He had a point. Who wanted to hang with a bunch of parents when they could be doing literally anything else.

“Okay…” Mom clapped her hands excitedly. “Whose classroom should we visit first?”

“You mean which professors?” I asked.

“No, I mean, should we meet yours or Bruce’s first?” she replied, and I could’ve kissed her right then.

Bones looked stunned, but then he snapped out of it. “No, no, you don’t have to⁠—”

“Yes, we do,” I said as Mom briefly squeezed my hand. “Let’s head over to the building where Bruce has two new classes in sports medicine, and then we’ll double back to the Performing Arts building.”

“Sounds like a plan,” my dad said, then led the way out of the building.

Bones still looked humbled as we arrived at his first class. When he stopped in his tracks, I turned to look at him.

“Oh, how lovely. Your parents made it after all,” Mom said, and that’s when I saw Mr. and Mrs. Lanning outside the classroom, speaking to the professor.

“Here’s Bruce,” Mr. Lanning said, lifting his hand to wave him over. “Sorry we’re late, but the traffic was awful.”

“But…” Bones blinked. “I thought you couldn’t make it.”

“We rearranged some things to be here,” Mrs. Lanning said, and her gaze swung to me. “Emil reminded us how important days like this are for students.”

“I…what?” I stood there dumbfounded, thinking back to our conversation. I’d said Bones would be thrilled about their visit.

“So glad you could make it,” Dad said, saving me.

“Us too.” Mrs. Lanning prodded Bones, who still looked shell-shocked, toward the classroom. “Anyway, we only have a couple of hours to spare.”

“We’re excited to meet your new professors,” Mr. Lanning said, patting Bones’s back. “Want to lead the way?”

“Thanks for letting him tag along,” Mrs. Lanning said to us over her shoulder.

“Of course,” Mom replied, then smiled at me. “That was a lovely surprise. Did you plant the seed?”

I shrugged. “Not on purpose.”

“Well, they came, and that’s all that matters.”

16

BONES

“Bruce is doing very well in class,” Professor Hawkins told my parents as I stared at a poster of micronutrients and their role in nutrition. “He’s engaged and has completed all the assignments thus far.”

“That’s nice to hear,” Mom replied. “We’d hoped he’d finally figure out a major.”

“Many students struggle to figure out what they want to do for the rest of their lives.” He smiled as if recalling his own college experience. “It’s a big ask and something that’s not always evident early on.”

“True. Up to this point, it’s been as clear as mud,” I said, and Professor Hawkins chuckled. I was still reeling from my parents’ change of heart—based on something Emil had said to them?

“Our oldest son was smart about his decision. He knew that entering the military with a bachelor’s degree would improve his rank and pay.”

I looked away, totally deflated that Brody had entered the conversation yet again.

“Good for him,” Professor Hawkins said. “But there is no one direct path. If Bruce continues to apply himself the way he’s been, he’ll go far.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said as we moved aside for another family entering the classroom.

I took them to each of the remaining classrooms, where Dad continued to talk about his and Brody’s experiences at Roosevelt. It was getting annoying. Maybe Brody was on their mind because of the fundraiser tomorrow, and I should be grateful they showed up at all. But it never seemed like I was their singular focus—which probably sounded like bitterness or jealousy.

Afterward, we walked around campus, ending at the football field, where Coach talked to my parents about—you guessed it—Brody and the year they won the championship.

“Next week is a big game for us. Which makes tomorrow all the more important,” Coach said, thumping my shoulder. Even though it was a bye week, we were required to get on the bus to go watch a game tomorrow. So, instead of poring over game footage, we’d be seeing our opponent in action. “If we win, we’ll be on the road to being a playoff hopeful.”

“I think we have a great chance,” I replied.

Coach was always no-nonsense, so when he said, “As long as we all keep our heads in the game,” I knew he wasn’t only referring to me, but it still rubbed me the wrong way in that moment.

I gritted my teeth as I walked my parents to the parking lot, disappointed that I’d actually been excited about this day. What a crock.

Dad looked at the time, then motioned for Mom to get in the car.

“I’m sorry we can’t stay longer,” Mom said. “We have a ton to do.” The week leading up to the event was always stressful and harried.

“It’s all right. Thanks for coming. Sorry I can’t make the fundraiser this year.”

“That’s fine. We know you honor Brody in other ways.”

I didn’t know what she meant by that, but I certainly kept his memory alive—in ways that worked for me.

“Just out of curiosity, what did Emil say to make you change your mind?”

They threw each other wary looks, and Dad said, “He told us how glad he was that his parents were so involved in his life, even when he was away at college.”

“He also said you were excited about the classes in your new major,” Mom added.

Frustration boiled over like hot lava in my chest. “So you felt guilty? That’s why you decided to show up?”

Mom glanced at Dad. “No, that’s not what⁠—”

I made an exasperated sound as I paced in front of them. I could scarcely contain all the pent-up disappointment I’d felt over the years—and suddenly, I couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“And you still had to bring up Brody every five seconds!”

Dad reared back. “Where is this coming from?”

“Seriously? Did you not hear yourself in there?” I motioned toward the building. “Whether you realize it or not, you’re always comparing us. Almost like you can’t help yourselves. I’m not Brody, and I never will be.”

“Of course you’re not.” Dad tried to squeeze my shoulder, but I shrugged him off. “We never said⁠—”

“You don’t have to! I miss him too. And I wish you could be as proud of me as you are of him. I get that I don’t hold a candle to him, but— You know what? Never mind. I guess I was hoping you came today for me, not because my roommate made you feel guilty.”

I stormed off, not looking back, somehow knowing my parents were still standing there in a daze. Good. At least I’d finally said my piece.

Guilt tried to worm its way inside me, but I tamped it down. I wandered around aimlessly because I didn’t know where the hell to go. I certainly didn’t want to return to the rotunda or to my room. Besides, most students would be going off with their parents to the dorms or to dinner…

But I wasn’t going to feel sorry for myself. When I spotted the bell tower, I thought I’d see what all the rage was. Besides, it didn’t explicitly belong to Lark and Henners, even though they’d sort of claimed it by using it as their secret sanctuary last year. Before their relationship was revealed. And after.

I slipped through the door and went inside. The stone stairs were narrow and steep, but I kept climbing until I was standing directly below the enormous bell. Damn, no wonder they liked this place so much. I looked out at the rolling hills and breathed in the fresh air. It helped chase away some of the panic.

I’d walked on eggshells around my parents since Brody died because I was afraid to bring them any more grief. But all it did was make me bury my feelings until I exploded like a shaken can of soda.

Fuck, I wished I could crack open a beer and down it, but that would only camouflage these feelings, and, in that moment, I felt more alive than I had in a long while.

Except for those times with Emil.

I sat down against the stone wall and listened to all the sounds around campus. The wind, birds chirping, students and their parents in animated conversations.

I stayed there for…I didn’t even know how long.

My phone buzzed with a text from Emil. All good?

I frowned as I typed. Not really. I got into an argument with my parents before they left.

I’m sorry. Where are you?

I glanced out at the clouds. Any other time, he would’ve gotten a kick out of my location. Somewhere safe and alone.

Was it anything I did or said?

Damn, he was feeling guilty.

No, it wasn’t you. It was them.

What do you mean?

I’d hoped they came today because they wanted to know me better, not because they felt obligated. It’s hard to explain.

I growled in frustration.

I think I get it. Let me know if you need anything.

Thanks.

When my cell rang with a call from my mom, I ignored it. My dad tried too, but I wasn’t ready to talk to them. My gut churned. I’d probably confused the hell out of them and caused them further angst. Fuck.

A text from Flash came next. Want to hang out and watch football?

Sometimes we got together to watch high school ball on Friday nights and dissected the game because what else would we do?

Maybe.

Meet us at the clubhouse.

Instead, I pulled up my email.

Brody,

I think I’m finally coming out from under your shadow. I had words with Mom and Dad, and I told them I was different than you and said my piece. Well, mostly. It was a start. I know they just miss you so much. And so do I. But right now, I don’t know how to fix this. I suppose it would’ve helped if I didn’t walk away from them.

Until we meet again.

B.

17

EMIL

I didn’t know what to think about what happened between Bones and his parents. I knew they cared—why else would they rearrange plans to show up?—but maybe their delivery could’ve been better. They did talk about Brody a lot, but what did I know? I’d only met them a few times.

I almost asked Bones if he wanted to join me and my parents for dinner, but maybe that would only rub more salt in the wounds. Besides, it sounded like he wanted to be alone.

After I said goodbye to my parents, I headed back to the room, but Bones was still MIA. I got a text invite from Justin to hang out in Leah’s room tonight since her roommate was out. That sounded like a better option than pacing and worrying about when Bones might show up.

“I ran into Henry,” Leah said as I passed them edibles, then ate a gummy myself. “He mentioned they were watching football tonight in the clubhouse.”

Maybe that was where Bones had headed. I breathed out in relief, glad he’d be surrounded by friends.

“Hard pass,” I said, and Leah laughed. Those guys lived and breathed the sport, which I supposed was a good idea if you were trying to have a winning season. But one game a week was plenty for me.

“So…I saw Bones was hanging out with you and your parents,” Justin said.

“Yeah, I invited him so he wouldn’t be alone before his parents showed.”

“You two have gotten close, huh?” Leah asked.

“Yeah. I’d even venture to say we’re friends.”

“Say it isn’t so!” Justin teased, and we all laughed.

I wanted to tell them more, but it wasn’t a good idea, especially if it ended badly.

We watched a romantic comedy and Leah and I painted each other’s fingernails. We’d just finished when my phone started blowing up with texts from Lark.

Bones had a freak accident at the clubhouse, and Henry said they took him to the Urgent Care center.

My stomach sank. What sort of accident?

I don’t know, just lots of blood, but not life-threatening!

I jumped up, adrenaline flooding my body. All I could think to do was go to him. See for myself. Make sure he was okay.

Thanks for the heads-up.

I grabbed my things.

“Where are you going?” Leah asked.

“There was an incident at the clubhouse. Bones got hurt.” And now I was imagining him jumping off furniture or acting like an idiot. “I don’t know the details, but I’m about to find out.”

Justin and Leah exchanged concerned glances. “Keep us posted,” she said.

I jogged down the stairs and to my car. The Urgent Care center was only a couple of blocks away, so it wouldn’t take me long. I didn’t even care if I looked ridiculous showing up. I was concerned about him, especially after what happened today.

When I got inside, Flash and Henry were in the waiting room.

“What happened?” burst from my lips.

Henry grimaced. “He tried to open a beer bottle⁠—”

“With his teeth,” Flash finished.

I narrowed my eyes. “Let me guess—he cracked a tooth?”

“Bingo.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. And breathed out, thankful it wasn’t more serious. “What a fool.”

Henry nodded. “It fell out, and he almost lost it.”

“There was a lot of blood, so at first, we had no idea what was going on,” Flash said.

I felt a stitch of discomfort. “Was he drunk?”

Henry shook his head. “Nah, that was his first one.”

Flash rolled his eyes. “He showed up late and in a mood.”

“Probably blowing off steam after a day with his parents,” I told them.

I didn’t know why I was defending him. He was an idiot, but I didn’t want him hurt. Or hurting. And he definitely was today.

I looked toward the front desk. “So what can Urgent Care do about a tooth? Isn’t that a job for a dentist or the ER?”

“Believe it or not, they have an emergency oral surgeon on staff. They paged him because you only have a couple of hours’ window to save a tooth.”

“You learn something new every day. You’d think this would’ve happened during a game, not while drinking beer and watching football.”

“That’s why we wear mouthguards on the field,” Flash pointed out.

“Makes sense. So now what?”

“We’re waiting for the procedure to be over.”

“Okay…well, I’m already here.” I sat down. “I can wait too.”

I texted my friends to update them, then made small talk with Flash and Henry.

“Lark told you?” Henry asked.

“Yeah,” I murmured, glancing at Flash. “He figured I’d want to know, being his roommate and all.”

Henry smiled. “Glad he did.”

“Do you think…we need to tell his parents?”

“He asked us not to. He pulled out his insurance card, and we helped the triage nurse fill in the blanks.”

Yeah, I could see why he’d think that wouldn’t go over well. Especially when they were planning for a fundraiser.

A few minutes later, a nurse came out. She said the procedure had gone well and they were able to save his tooth. “He can go home as soon as his anesthesia wears off. He was only lightly under, so it shouldn’t take long.”

“Can we keep him company?” I asked, wanting to see him for myself.

“Sure. Second room on the right.”

The three of us walked through the door to the back rooms and easily found Bones, who was like a chatterbox on anesthesia, probably telling the surgeon his life story, with gauze hanging out of his mouth.

It didn’t look like anything was amiss besides him looking and sounding high. There were also some blood spots on his gown, but I’d bet his clothes were worse. Shoot, I should’ve brought him clean ones.

“Are you with the patient?” the surgeon asked. We nodded.

“We’ll give him some fluids, so encourage him to drink through a straw. It shouldn’t be much longer.” He carefully pulled the bloody gauze out of Bones’s mouth and tossed it. “But he’ll need to take it easy for the next twenty-four hours and schedule a follow-up visit with his dentist.”

When he left the room, Henry and Flash stepped closer to the bed, and I stayed behind, not wanting to overwhelm him.

“Hey, man, looks like you’re gonna be okay,” Henry said.

“You’re not gonna die,” Flash joked.

Bones’s eyes widened. “What happened?”

“You cracked your tooth,” Henry said. “You don’t remember?”

“Anesthesia has that effect sometimes,” the nurse said as she entered the room with a cup and a straw. She approached the bed and held the cup for him, and he drank like he’d spent a year in the desert.

“Okay, that’s enough for now,” she said as he tried to grab the cup again. “We need to see if your stomach can handle it.”

I tried to rein in my snicker, but his eyes zeroed in on me.

“Hey…I know you.”

I padded over to his bed. “I’m your roommate, dork.”

“You are?” His eyes grew wide as saucers. “You’re so cute!”

Oh my God, kill me now.

“If you’re my roommate, I must have a crush on you!”

“Um…” I became tongue-tied at how innocent he sounded, unsure how to respond. My gaze met Henry’s. Awkward.

Bones fluttered his eyelashes in an attempt at flirting. “Wanna date me?”

Flash’s bark of laughter was disguised as a cough.

“I don’t really date,” I offered in response, feeling perplexed at this version of Bones.

“Why not? I would make an awesome boyfriend.”

Ah, there was the Bones I knew and loved.

Loved? Okay, maybe hard like. And how could I not? He sounded so adorable.

“You’ve never been anyone’s boyfriend in your life,” I pointed out.

“Well, there’s always a first. At least think about it?”

A laugh jumped out of my mouth. “Okay, sure.”

“Does anesthesia turn people gay?” Flash asked in a fit of hilarity.

My gaze met Henry’s, who also had trouble keeping a straight face.

Bones’s voice exploded in the quiet room. “There’s nothing wrong with being gay or bi or pan…or, or…aromantic or realizing you identify as demiromantic. You just need to find yourself.”

Where in the world had he come up with those terms? Apparently, he’d been doing his research. What else would explain it?

“Holy shit!” Flash said. “Maybe I should record this.”

“Don’t you dare,” I hissed. “Haven’t you learned anything from last year?”

There had been a whole situation with an intercepted letter involving Henry and Lark.

“I was only kidding.” He held up his hands and backed away. “If you guys got this, I’m gonna head back to the clubhouse and let people know he’s all right.”

“Sounds good,” I said, glad to be rid of him.

Once he left, Henry breathed out, seemingly glad as well.

Bones napped for a bit as we kept watch over him.

“I’m going to assume the person Bones is hung up on is you,” Henry said.

“Hung up on? We’re just casual. No way I want to get involved with a jock who’s trying to figure out his sexuality. Plus, the whole roommate situation…”

“Ah, got it. I won’t say another word.”

“Thanks.”

When Bones woke again, he was nearly back to his normal self. We helped him into his bloodstained clothes and out to my car.

“You sure you got it?” Henry asked.

“Yep, all good.”

“Okay, gonna head over to Lark’s. Catch you later.”

Bones was quiet the whole ride back, seemingly sluggish, mortified, or a mix of both. Plus, his jaw was no doubt sore with the painkillers wearing off.

When I pulled into the lot, he said, “You didn’t contact my parents⁠—”

“Of course not. I figured you wouldn’t want that.”

He breathed out. “They would be disappointed in me.”

“It was a freak accident,” I said as we climbed out of the car.

“No, it wasn’t. I was being stupid.”

“Okay, you were.” I held on to his arm as we walked to the dorms. “But you learn from your mistakes. I bet you won’t be doing that again.”

The nurse had instructed us to watch over him because his equilibrium would be off, so I helped him shower and get changed. When he followed me to my bed, I didn’t question it, just figured he needed the closeness.

He pulled me against him and promptly fell asleep.

18

BONES

God, I’d messed everything up with my parents, and Emil was acting skittish around me as well. Likely because I’d made the dumbass move of trying to open a beer bottle with my teeth. But he’d also shown up at Urgent Care and taken care of me afterward.

So, he was a true friend.

I’d been so on edge and wasn’t thinking straight. I’d wanted to punch a wall—or crack a tooth, apparently. All because I was feeling bummed about how it all went down with my parents. I knew I needed to reach out to them, to talk it through. But we were so good at pushing conflicts aside that this felt old hat to me.

Maybe that’s not good enough anymore…

Coach had caught wind of what happened last night and called me into his office before the team loaded onto the bus to watch an upcoming opponent’s game.

“How are you feeling?” Coach asked, but I could see the twitch in his jaw.

“Fine. Just a little residual pain.” It was actually a lot of achiness, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. “I know I messed up, but I’m okay to get on the bus with the team.”

“You don’t look fine,” he said, scrutinizing me. “Go back to your dorm and get some sleep. You’ll need it this week when you stay after practice to watch extra game video.”

“No, I⁠—”

He folded his arms. “That wasn’t a request.”

It was the consequences of my actions, and Coach was trying to make a point.

“Yes, sir.” I kept my head down as I walked out of his office and back to the dorm, refusing to answer my teammates’ questions. Word would spread soon enough. Besides, it wasn’t like he was taking me out of a game. He was keeping me from an enjoyable activity with my football buddies. It was work to go scout a game, but fun too.

I was restless in my room, especially since Emil had decided to visit his grandmother for a pre-birthday celebration because of the bye week.

I tried watching the game on my own, but I couldn’t concentrate. So I grabbed my keys and went out the door. I walked around campus, ignoring a rowdy frat party, making my way toward the soccer field.

The stands were empty, so I scaled the steps and found a seat at the very top, away from probing eyes. I kept replaying my conversation with my parents. I needed to reach out to them before time got away from us. I took a deep breath and video-called my mom’s cell, knowing they’d be in the process of setting up for the fundraiser.

“Bruce, are you okay?” Mom answered, raising her voice above the din inside the venue.

Dad stepped into the frame with her. They were busy and had a ton to do but didn’t remind me of that. They just seemed relieved to hear from me.

“Uh-huh. I’m sorry about picking a fight yesterday.”

“We’re sorry too.” I could see the emotion in her expression.

“We’re glad you called.” Dad frowned. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a bus with the team?”

“I was, but…I cracked my tooth and had to get some dental work done. I figured you’d find out soon enough.” When they got the bill and co-pay. But I was going to offer to take care of that.

“How bad was it?” Mom asked, studying me.

I hoisted a shoulder. “Bad enough, but they were able to repair it. It’s all good.”

“Glad to hear it,” Dad said, then motioned to someone in the distance about one thing or another. I could hear tables and chairs being moved.

“Anyway, I know you’re busy setting up, so I’ll let you get back to it.”

“Sounds good, since the raffle baskets just arrived,” Mom replied, absently looking over her shoulder. “We love you, Bruce.”

“Love you too.”

I felt more settled on my way back to the dorm. The call wasn’t perfect, but maybe I had smoothed it over a bit with my parents.

I crawled into bed as soon as I got back and was able to get a decent night’s sleep.

The next morning, I grabbed breakfast, then pulled up the game on my laptop to get a jumpstart on the homework Coach was bound to give me. I filled Emil in on my weekend once he returned, and he seemed glad that stuff was on the mend. But things still felt strange between us, and I couldn’t put my finger on why. Maybe he was simply preoccupied with unfinished assignments and laundry.

By Monday’s practice, I was back on my game, and Coach took notice, complimenting me on tackles. I stayed after to watch game footage, then grabbed dinner before chilling in the common room with Spencer and A-Train.

But I was distracted, wondering where Emil was tonight, and Spencer pointed it out. “Hey, what’s with you lately?”

“Besides the fact that I cracked my tooth by being stupid, had to get major dental work, and then Coach kept me back from a team activity?”

“Yeah, guess that’s a lot.” Spencer hesitated a second, then said, “But you’ve been struggling since the beginning of the season.”

I straightened. “Struggling how?”

“Like distant and preoccupied.”

I couldn’t help wondering if my teammates were comparing notes behind my back. None of them had seemed surprised about my missing the bus ride unless they just didn’t want to bring it up or rub it in.

“Just got a lot on my mind.”

“What could possibly be rolling around in that pea brain of yours?” A-Train said.

I knew it was only teasing when they lobbed jokes at me for being on the dopey side—they didn’t even know about my childhood nickname—but this time, it stung. No way I’d give them extra ammunition, at least not with that, so I blurted out, “Maybe the fact that I’m bisexual.”

Turned out Emil was right. If I was going to come out, I had to do it on my own. I couldn’t use him as a crutch, and I didn’t want to bottle up my feelings anymore. And though I understood what Henners had gone through and why he was hiding himself last year, I didn’t want to end up sick like he did.

A-Train straightened and looked at me. “Uh, what?”

“Yeah, you heard that right. I like guys and girls.”

“Another one has fallen,” A-Train said dramatically.

“Don’t worry, it’s not contagious. People don’t magically turn gay, but they can have it dawn on them at any age.”

“Someone’s been doing their homework,” Spencer said.

“I’ve been trying to grow as a human being,” I lobbed back.

“Enough to include guys in the equation,” A-Train quipped.

I shrugged. “I’m understanding myself better. You could use some of that self-awareness.”

“What’s going on?” Flash asked as he and Henners joined us.

“Bones just told us—” A-Train slapped a hand over his mouth. “Oops, that’s not for me to tell.”

“Thanks for that,” I said, thumping his knee, “but I’m okay with you sharing.”

“Bones is bisexual!” A-Train said.

My gaze met Henners’s, and I could feel the support blazing from his eyes.

“Well, duh,” Flash replied. “You said as much when you were doped up on anesthesia.”

“Huh?” My gaze sprang to his. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He sank down on the couch across from us. “You asked Emil to be your boyfriend.”

“I most certainly did not!” My heart was threatening to beat out of my chest.

He smirked. “You did.”

I looked at Henners. “Is that true?”

His gaze was full of concern. “Yeah.”

I screwed my eyes shut. “Why didn’t you tell me I made an ass of myself?”

“You were hilarious,” Flash said.

“And we didn’t want to embarrass you,” Henners added.

“Well, fuck.” I rubbed my hand over my face. “When has that ever stopped you?”

They laughed, but I was still reeling. Was that why Emil seemed to be walking on eggshells around me? Had I made him uncomfortable in front of these guys? Or just uncomfortable in general? Still, he could’ve given me a heads-up.

“Just out of curiosity, how did you figure this out about yourself?” A-Train asked.

“I realized I had a crush on someone—and believe me, it was none of you.”

Henners cracked up and high-fived me. “Way braver than I was last year.”

“It’s not a competition, though, is it?”

“Not unless Emil is involved,” Spencer said, and everyone laughed.

Flash squeezed my shoulder. “Look at our boy Bones figuring shit out.”

“You want some pointers?” I countered.

And though I felt relieved, in a way, I was even more confused.

19

EMIL

Leah and I met Lark and his sister, Star, at the diner where his mom worked. I ordered a grilled cheese with tomato soup because it felt right for the fall weather. The leaves turning red and gold were pretty, and the fall festival at the end of the month only punctuated the season. Along with our recital, which was coming along very well. There was even a buzz about it, and tickets for the event were almost sold out.

Star had brought some coloring books, and Leah was totally into using all the shades of blue crayons on her picture while waiting for our food.

“Nice to see you,” Ms. Levitt said as she served us our meals.

She kissed Star on the head as she dug into her chicken nuggets, then went off to assist other customers.

“I still can’t believe you were at Urgent Care Friday night,” Lark said.

“Right?” I finished slurping my soup. “That was not on my bingo card this year.”

“Glad they were able to save his tooth,” Leah said.

“Yeah, you can’t even tell the difference.” The procedure involved something called dental bonding, which I wouldn’t be able to define if I tried.

“Henry told me some of the stuff he was saying on anesthesia.” Lark smirked. “Sounded pretty funny.”

“Yeah, that’s why I decided not to tell him about any of it. Awkward.”

“Henry thought the same, and apparently, Flash agreed.”

“Wait, what did he say?” Leah asked.

“All sorts of ridiculous stuff. Told me I was cute and that he didn’t know I was his roommate.”

“No way! Wait, does that mean…”

Damn it, I’d fucked up. We shouldn’t have been talking about this in front of Leah.

“Not for me to say.” I averted my eyes. “Probably just out of his mind.”

“I’ve seen some wild post-anesthesia clips online,” Lark said, trying to save me.

Leah grinned. “Yeah, me too.”

As Ms. Levitt was clearing our dishes, she asked, “How about some dessert on the house?”

“Oooh, do you have those warm doughnuts?” Lark had introduced them to us last year, and it was now a thing between him and Henry.

“Of course.” She winked. “Coming right up.”

I was tired by the time we got back to the dorm, but I still needed to study.

Bones didn’t even look at me as I came through the door, only grunted in greeting. He was in bed, in front of his laptop.

I used the bathroom, changed out of my clothes, then pulled out my computer. When he still didn’t say a word, I felt on pins and needles. “Everything all right?”

He clenched his jaw. “Why didn’t you tell me the shit I said under anesthesia?”

Well, fuck, Flash must’ve spilled the beans. “It’s a thing that happens, and it’s just silly.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “God. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.”

“You didn’t. It was adorable.”

“Adorable? Ugh. I’m mortified.”

It took a lot for Bones to be humiliated by something, so why this was bothering him so much, I didn’t know.

“You know I didn’t mean anything by it, right?”

I felt a cold punch to my chest.

“O…of course.” I straightened and tried to recover my composure. “Though I’m hurt that you don’t think I’m cute and have a crush on me.”

“You’re obviously cute and hot and…” He looked away as I held my breath. “But Flash said I asked to be your boyfriend. I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me. I know how you feel about that. You’ve made it more than clear.”

I swallowed the boulder in my throat, not feeling clear at all lately.

“We’re cool. It’s okay.”

He met my gaze. “You sure?”

“Yeah. But you did say some interesting stuff about aromantic and demi something or other. I’ll admit those were new terms for me. I still don’t know what they mean, but it seems like you’ve really been trying to figure yourself out.”

“Jesus Christ, it just gets worse the more I hear.”

I laughed. “I like that about you. That you’re open to learning.”

“Maybe too open,” he muttered.

“What do you mean?”

“I told the guys tonight I’m bisexual.”

I inhaled sharply. “And how did that go?”

“Fine. All cool. There were jokes, but that’s par for the course.”

“I suppose you have Henry to thank for paving the way toward the football team’s enlightenment.”

He smirked. “True.”

It grew silent again as we resumed studying, and soon enough, he cut the light on his side of the room and went to sleep. I had the urge to ask him to watch our show and snuggle in bed, but I had a feeling that wouldn’t go over well after our talk. And that made me sad. Turned out, protecting my heart was a lot of work.

20

BONES

It was a Saturday home game, and the stadium was packed. For the first time since Parents’ Day, I was relieved to see my mom and dad in the stands. It wasn’t worth it to pick a fight with them. I needed to get over my resentment regarding the way they were dealing with my brother’s death. Nothing I could do about it.

The band played the fight song from the stands, and I couldn’t help looking for Emil and his annoying trumpet, glad we’d talked through the whole anesthesia incident. Not that I didn’t still pine and ache being in his space every day, but his friendship was worth more.

Soon enough, I tuned everything out, trying like hell to just be me and not my all-star brother. I was my own person, and if it wasn’t good enough for most people, then so be it. It only had to be good enough for me. For me to feel content and stay healthy. And if Brody were alive, he would’ve wholeheartedly agreed.

I played one of my best games and helped the defense hold our lead to a touchdown against a tough team. One I’d studied all week, not because Coach assigned me the extra task, but because it made me a better and more focused player. It was up to me to stop fucking up and finally come into my own.

My cheeks hurt from smiling as we jogged to the locker room to celebrate and change. No doubt everyone would be headed to party at the clubhouse, but I was more concerned with greeting my parents and making sure we were cool.

When I saw my parents waiting for me, I inhaled a breath and strode over to them. “Thanks for coming. Glad you watched a good game.”

“It was a tough win. Good job,” Dad said with a half-hug. “Can we take you to dinner?”

Dad glanced at Mom, who added, “There are some things we’d like to talk to you about.”

“Sure.” My stomach hurt the entire way to the restaurant as I wondered what they could possibly want to discuss. Maybe after the argument and the tooth incident, they’d tell me to get my act together, and I couldn’t blame them if they did.

They waited until we ordered our food to talk about something other than the game—though discussing a win was better than discussing a loss.

“Bruce,” Dad began, his gaze full of unease, “we realize that the past few years have been hard on you too.”

“Oh, honey.” Mom gripped my hand across the table. “I suppose we just couldn’t see past our own grief.”

I rubbed at the uneasiness in my chest. “That’s why I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Dad shook his head. “We’re glad you did. We talked about it that night.”

“We were still living in the past,” Mom said. “And we want to be present for you.”

Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them away. A sob caught in my throat. “I’m sorry I’m not that great at school or as dynamic as Brody in football.”

“That’s not what I saw out there today,” Dad’s voice rang out. “You were damned good.”

“I was?” Fuck, that felt good to hear.

“Absolutely. And even if you weren’t great at football or weren’t interested in playing, we’d love you regardless,” Dad said. “For the man you’ve become.”

Mom’s eyes grew misty. “And we’re sorry you didn’t feel that from us.”

I screwed my eyes shut, the tidal wave of relief threatening to crush my chest. “Thanks.”

Mom gave me a watery smile. “And I’m glad you have the friends you do. But we didn’t come because of Emil; we came because of you.”

“I know.” I bit my lip, feeling embarrassed all over again. “It was just how I felt in that moment.”

Dad frowned. “As parents, we need to get better at letting you know how proud we are of you.”

“Well, in your defense, I have done some stupid stuff.”

Dad gave me a knowing look. “Like cracking your tooth on a bottle cap?”

“How did you⁠—”

Mom smirked. “We got the bill from Urgent Care, and I had a very interesting conversation with one of the nurses.”

“I’ll pay for it, no matter the cost.”

Mom looked at Dad. “Well, after some finagling, we got it covered, but I’m glad you were willing.”

“Well, that’s good news.”

With the air cleared, the rest of the meal was relaxing and fun.

“Have you been seeing Melanie again?” Mom asked in that teasing, hopeful tone. I had only mentioned her briefly last year when Mom pressed me about dating. “She came over to say hello to us after the game.”

My stomach squeezed in discomfort. “No, she’s nice and pretty, but I…I’m not interested.”

“That’s okay,” Dad said. “There’s plenty of time for all that.”

“About that…” My gut churned. “I’ve recently discovered some things about myself.”

Mom’s eyebrows drew together. “Anything you want to share?”

“I’m nervous to tell you.”

“Honey, we need to start being open with each other so we don’t get into the same mess.”

“True.” My skin felt clammy as I muttered, “Okay, well…I think I’m bisexual.”

That was enough of a revelation. Any of the other stuff could wait.

I couldn’t look at them, not yet, until I felt Mom squeeze my hand again.

“Why were you nervous to tell us that?” Dad asked. “Sure, it’s a bit of a surprise, but we support you no matter what.”

“I just thought…if I ever did date a guy, you would worry about the future.”

“How so?” Mom asked.

“You always talk about marriage and kids, and I thought that meant you had this perfect picture in your mind of what you saw for me.”

“We would want you to be happy,” Mom said. “We lost a son, and from that devastating experience, we learned that nothing matters except our other child’s safety and happiness.”

Mom and Dad shared a sorrowful smile that made my heart clench.

“Don’t ever be afraid to tell us anything, okay?” Dad said, and I nodded, feeling on the verge of tears again.

Afterward, I showed up at the clubhouse, but I wasn’t into it. Something inside me had changed. Not that there was anything wrong with celebrating a win or partying with friends, but I’d done it recklessly in the past, mostly to tune out all the stuff in my brain. But now I just felt like I needed to listen to my body better—and my needs.

I had a few sips of beer that I didn’t try to open with my teeth, despite the running joke. Emil was there with his friends, dancing their hearts out, while I became a fixture against the wall close to the door.

When Emil spotted me, he left his friends and came over. “All okay?”

“Yeah, actually. I had dinner with my parents, and we hashed it all out.”

He grinned. “I can see how relieved you are.”

“Yeah, thanks for asking.” I looked toward the exit. “Probably gonna head out.”

“Not feeling it tonight?”

“Nah, was hoping you’d be interested in watching Slay. I mean, when you get home.”

His smile was blinding. “Does this mean our bromance status is still intact?”

Ugh, I hated that he still made my stomach all wobbly. “Definitely.”

“Will there be facials involved?” he asked.

“That’s a no.”

“How about nail-painting?”

I glanced at his hands. He was due for a new coat of the bright blue he normally wore. “Double no.”

He laughed. “Popcorn?”

“Now you’re talking.” We fist-bumped. “See you later.”

And though I’d vetoed most of those ideas, I still lined up his mask cream and nail polish next to the large bowl of popcorn on his desk.

21

EMIL

Things between Bones and me had mostly been back to normal, and that was as much a relief as it wasn’t. Except ever since our conversation about what he’d said under anesthesia, he was careful not to fall asleep in my bed—as if he didn’t want to rock the boat again or make me feel pressured. I had to bite my tongue about asking him to stay, though him leaving was the right thing.

Wasn’t it?

But the more he pulled away, the more I realized how much I liked having him in my life. That I was protecting myself, not only because I didn’t want it to be awkward between us but because I didn’t want to get hurt.

I was in the student center, sitting by myself during a free period. I had a few more pages to finish in my music-theory assignment, but I was distracted—and by what else, if not thinking about my roommate again? About the juxtaposition between last year and this one, how I’d grown to appreciate his goofiness as much as his kisses.

God, those kisses. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I missed them.

And if you went by what he’d confessed at Urgent Care, so did he—though technically, he was confused about who I was during that short period of time.

My mouth stretched into a grin as I remembered what he’d said.

“I would make an awesome boyfriend.”

I had no doubt, except…he’d never been one before. What if he realized he was wrong about his crush on me? What if he pulled the same shit my high-school boyfriend had? The Bones from last year might’ve. Had he really changed?

Then I thought about the other stuff he’d spouted off about being—aromantic…? I opened a search window, wondering why I hadn’t done it sooner. When the term popped up on my screen, the definition made sense for him. He’d admitted he’d never felt romantic feelings toward anyone.

And then I saw the other term I couldn’t for the life of me remember. Demiromantic. I knew what demisexual meant—that a person needed to feel a connection to someone in order to have sex. How did demiromantic differ?

And when I clicked on it, I sat there stunned, reading over and over again the words that seemed to fit Bones to a tee. A person who cannot feel romantic toward someone unless there is a deeper connection.

All the little things he’d confessed over the past couple of months came rushing back: “Why do I like being around you, sleeping next to you, the sound of your laugh, and the feel of your skin?”

I shivered. Add in the way he kissed me, the way he needed to kiss me after every time we’d hooked up, and it was like a bell going off in my brain.

He must’ve been so confused before he found a label that fit him. Some people really needed that, and this was a perfect example of why.

I shut my laptop and stared into space, wondering if I was only imagining it. He’d told me he didn’t mean any of that stuff he’d said under anesthesia. Did he mean it? Or was that his way of protecting his heart and our friendship?

As if I’d dreamed him out of thin air, there he was across the room with his football buddies. I watched him for a minute—the messy dark hair matching the scruff that felt rough against my skin when he devoured my lips. That solid body, softer middle, and the goofy grin that made my stomach feel off-kilter, especially when he fell asleep in my bed or begrudgingly applied a face mask just for me—the latter simply because he knew I liked them.

I noticed how his gaze scanned the room until it landed on me. I held my breath as his mouth split into a crooked, wide-toothed smile. The one I now realized must’ve been reserved for me. Ah, fuck. I was in over my head.

I gave a little wave before packing up my things and trudging off to class. I was distracted all through ballet and nearly botched a lift.

“Are you trying to kill me?” Lark teased as he twirled away in that gauzy, ethereal skirt he loved so much.

“Sorry,” I muttered, glad that was the last practice round before we moved into another routine that did not include me carrying anything over a hundred pounds.

After class, I changed for marching band and walked out with Leah, Justin, and Lark, who were also finished for the day. As we neared the fence lining the field, my gaze immediately found Bones near the fifty-yard line, stretching his calves in those tight padded shorts he wore for practice.

I must’ve smiled without realizing it because Leah playfully bumped me. “Uh-oh, I recognize that look. Though never saw it from you.”

I played dumb as my pulse throbbed. “What look?”

“Someone’s got a crush, and from this vantage point, it’s a football player.”

I threw Lark a wary glance, but he remained impassive, letting me call the shots. Maybe he thought it was time. They had become my closest confidants.

“Ugh, I like someone a lot.” More than like, but that was a start.

My friends stared at me, and when I didn’t add anything more, Leah asked timidly, “Is it Bones? After the stuff he said under anesthesia, it makes the most sense.”

Justin glanced toward the field. “Plus, I heard Bones came out.”

“It’s him,” I admitted. “But I probably haven’t given him a fair shake.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Justin joked. “The guy calls himself a football god.”

I grinned and shook my head. “He was a bit of a jerk last year and sometimes still does senseless stuff, but…he’s different now, and I really like hanging out with him.”

“He even admitted Bones is sweet,” Lark teased.

“So what are you going to do?” Leah asked.

“I’m nervous that he won’t feel the same way.” Lark threw me a doubtful look, but I ignored him. “I know I need to put myself out there—because he sort of did, which is a story for another time—but I can’t think how.”

As Jonah made his way to the fence, greeting us and telling me that practice was about to start, Lark squealed. “I have an idea! But we’ll need some favors.”

22

BONES

After practice on Friday, I was beat. We had an away game tomorrow, but the guys were meeting in the common room to have a low-key night of pizza and cards. I decided not to invite Emil because I needed to get over him already. We had a lot of fun together as friends, so I still got to be around him all the time. Hopefully, my crush would fade soon enough.

I showered, changed, and was ready to head back to the dorm when Henners motioned for me to follow him back to the stadium. “Wanna show you something.”

“Can it wait? Not in the mood.”

That was another thing that was different about me. Normally, I went along with anything, just trying to fill my time with opportunities for fun. But I was learning how to say no and set limits.

“I promise it won’t take long,” Henners replied, urging me along.

When I saw Lark, Justin, and Leah waiting in the stands, I figured it had something to do with them. Some of the other players were up there too, so I figured it was something big.

“Why are you all up here in the nosebleed seats?” I asked as I scaled the stairs.

Lark smirked. “Watching the marching band.”

“They’re still practicing?”

My gaze swung to the field, where the band was indeed marching in a formation toward the fifty-yard line. I wondered if they had been kept after to practice for a new routine or to perfect something. That was when the music started, and there was a low buzz all around me. A new song, perhaps? I recognized the melody—“Just the Way You Are” by Bruno Mars.

Easily able to spot Emil on his trumpet, I focused on him as the band began leaving the line and spreading out in some configuration. But Emil moved forward, separating from the other members as if he were the focal point, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

Because I was so focused on him, I apparently wasn’t paying enough attention to what the others in the band were doing until Henners jerked my shoulder and motioned to the field.

By that point, Emil had knelt and lifted a poster board with a gigantic question mark on it. I narrowed my eyes, trying to make sense of it all…until I finally focused on the marching band behind him.

They’d spelled out: DATE ME.

Everyone around me started whooping and hollering and patting me on the back.

My head was swimming as I tried to comprehend what was happening.

“What…?”

“Emil organized this for you,” Lark said when I gawked at him. “It was too hard to get the question mark right, so we came up with this idea instead.”

Holy fuck, was this really happening?

My gaze swung to Emil, who was still kneeling and looking expectantly up at the stands.

Without even realizing it, I was already moving, my legs carrying me down the stairs and toward the field. Emil stood as I got past the fence barrier and jogged toward him. Most of the band was either grinning or clapping as Emil met me halfway.

“I can’t believe you… Is this real?” I asked as a smile broke out on his face.

“I wanted to spell out be my boyfriend, but you can imagine how that would’ve complicated things,” he joked.

“Um, yeah.” I glanced over his shoulder to his bandmates, who had already broken formation and seemed to be waiting on what was next. “I mean, how did you even get all this together?”

“They were more than happy to help me make a fool of myself.” He bit his lip. “Did I? Make a fool of myself?”

He looked so shy and vulnerable right then that I felt the urge to encase him in Bubble Wrap and protect him. But first, I needed to get some things straight.

Or maybe not so straight.

“So you’re asking me to be your boyfriend?”

“Duh.” He winked. “Or date me, or whatever works for you so I can keep kissing you.”

“And only me?”

“There’s no one else I want to kiss.”

My heart practically burst from my chest and worshipped at his feet.

“Me neither. Guess this means I’m officially your boyfriend.” Before I could stop myself, I was lifting Emil and twirling him around, much like that day at the beginning of the semester. “I can’t believe I get to have you and touch you whenever I want.”

He snorted. “Well, there is such a thing as consent, which can be totally hot too. And right now, I would say fuck yes if you wanted to kiss me.”

I set him down and cupped his face to a cacophony of oohs and aahs from both sides of the fence.

When our mouths met, the rest of the world melted away as our tongues gently tangled and his hands wound around my waist. Even all the cheering and clapping from the field and stands couldn’t penetrate our perfect bubble.

“I missed this,” Emil said as he drew away. “Missed you.”

I gave him a pointed look. “You share a room with me.”

“You know what I mean.” He smirked. “I love hanging out and your dorky takes on stuff, but our cuddling and late-night talks are my favorite.”

“Mine too.” My stomach swooped, then immediately clenched. “But I thought I needed to get over you.”

“And I thought I needed to protect myself from getting hurt.”

I curled my hand against his nape. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Not on purpose, but I thought you might decide…” He drew a breath. “I looked up the definition of demiromantic, and it all sank in.”

I exhaled in relief that we’d finally found a middle ground. “You’re the only person I never wanted to kick out of bed.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” he teased. “Though I’ll admit I love that I’m the first.”

My heart hammered in my chest, filling it with so much joy that I didn’t know how to contain it. So I did the only thing that came to mind. I lifted Emil over my shoulder and headed toward the fence as he squealed.

“Okay, neanderthal, what are you doing?”

“I’m taking you to the dorm so we can kiss and cuddle without an audience.”

“I thought you liked an audience.”

“Not when it comes to you.” I playfully swatted his ass. “I mostly like us in our own little quiet space.”

“Are you trying to make me swoon?”

I smirked. “Guess you bring it out of me.”

“Other things are gonna be brought out too, like puke, when all the blood rushes to my head.” He thumped my back. “You can at least let me walk on my own.”

“How about a compromise?” I stopped and shifted him. “You put your legs around my waist, and I still get to hold you close while I carry you.”

“Deal.”

His ankles circled my midsection, which only led to more kissing before I started moving again. We got puzzled looks as we headed to the dorm and up the stairs to our room, but I didn’t care.

As soon as we shut the door behind us, our lips and hands were in a frenzy, kissing in between pulling off each other’s clothes. Finally, a naked Emil tugged me down on his bed, and damn, feeling him skin to skin like that was amazing.

We kissed and ground our dicks together until we were both leaking precome. But it didn’t seem like enough. I wanted more, to get even closer to him. To crawl inside his skin and heart and head. Before I woke up from this amazing dream.

“Bones?” Emil’s cheeks were flushed as I looked down at him. “It’s okay if it’s too soon, but I want…”

I cupped his jaw. “You can tell me. Maybe I want the same thing.”

“To be connected in a different way?” he asked tentatively. “I want to feel you…inside me.”

My voice was hoarse when I admitted, “Me too. But I don’t know how…”

“I can guide you if you want.”

I nodded, my pulse erratic, my breaths harsh.

“Grab a condom and the lube from my desk drawer.”

I did as he asked, my fingers fumbling as I set the supplies on the bed, then settled near his legs. He was fisting the base of his cock, and I was mesmerized by how natural this felt, even if I was on pins and needles with anticipation.

“I want you…bad,” he said with hooded eyes. “But you need to open me up with the lube and your fingers first.”

I wasn’t completely clueless. I’d done a little research and watched a couple of videos that were totally hot. But putting what I saw into action felt surreal.

I grabbed the lube and nearly made a mess as it oozed out of the bottle. Goddamn it.

“If this part is too much, I can do it myself while you watch,” he offered.

“No way. I need it to be me.” Emil’s eyes softened, and I bent down to kiss him because I couldn’t help myself. “Just don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t. I’ll let you know if I’m uncomfortable.”

“Okay, deal.” I tried to remember exactly how it all went down in the videos. “So…how should we do this?”

“I can get on all fours. That might be the easiest way.”

When he made the motion to turn over, I gripped his thigh. “Wait. I wanna be able to see you.”

“You’ll obviously see me,” he mused. “Even more that way.”

“But I won’t be able to see your eyes.”

Emil made a sound in the back of his throat. “Do you even realize how romantic you can be?”

I hitched a shoulder. “Never wanted any of this before. But I want it with you.”

We kissed for a couple of sweet minutes, and I reveled in the fact that I didn’t have to call it a hookup anymore. It had never felt that way with him anyway.

“I’ll make this a little easier for you.” When Emil lifted his knees to his shoulders, my mouth ran dry.

He was giving himself to me, and seeing his pink pucker made my dick so hard I could probably pound nails with it. “Fuck.”

“You like what you see?”

“Hell yes.”

“Good, now hurry and get your fingers inside me.”

But I didn’t rush, didn’t want to, not where he was concerned. Instead, I took my time looking and admiring. He didn’t have a lot of hair on his body, not even down there, which was such a contrast from mine.

I gently brushed my fingers and lips across the back of his thighs and around his balls while he shivered and groaned. Finally, I focused on his tight rim, circled it with my thumb, and wondered how I was even supposed to get my cock inside something so small. “So fucking hot.”

I leaned over and kissed him as I explored with my fingers, pushing the tip of a digit inside. I drew back when he gasped. “Need me to pull out?”

“Don’t you dare. Go deeper, then give me one more.”

Damn, I loved experiencing this with him, especially when he told me exactly what he wanted. He seemed to enjoy everything I’d done thus far, which made me feel on top of the world.

I watched him closely before thrusting my finger farther. I see-sawed in and out before working a second inside. I noticed how it made him tremble, depending on how I moved them. “Ah, hell, my prostate.”

“No shit?” I’d heard it was an erogenous zone but had never given it much thought. I added more lube to my fingers, slid them back inside, and watched in awe as his hole adjusted to their girth. I curled a finger and rubbed a cushioned spot inside him that made his eyes roll back. “Well, damn.”

My fingers were definitely loosening him up, but I still didn’t know how my dick would last beyond five seconds inside him.

“Mmmm, feels amazing.” His eyes were blissed out, his precome making his abdomen sticky. “Can’t wait for your dick.”

My cock flexed. “Fucking hell, I can barely hold it together as it is.”

Emil smirked before looking at me like I hung the moon.

He lowered his legs, then reached forward to stroke my aching shaft. “Want your dick now. Please.”

I wanted that too, so fucking bad.

I slid my fingers out of his body, then reached for the condom. My hands trembled as I tore open the wrapper and rolled it down my shaft.

“Don’t forget the lube,” Emil reminded me.

I slathered my cock while he lifted his knees to his shoulders again. I didn’t think I’d ever been this hard and ready for someone—even if my nerves were attempting to shred my stomach.

“Hey,” he said, studying me. “It’s just you and me. Even if you decide⁠—”

“No way.” I pushed onto my knees and positioned myself closer. Leaning down, I pecked his lips for good luck—or maybe because it made me feel closer to him. And braver.

I lost my breath when my tip brushed against his rim.

Carefully, I prodded my way beyond the ring of muscle, and holy fuck. If I thought my fingers felt tight and warm, my dick was a whole other level.

“Goddamn…” It was hard to believe I was inside his body, except for that thing where I already felt on the edge of losing it. My whole body tingled, from my scalp to my heels.

“Right?” His voice was shaky and hoarse. “So good.”

I tilted my hips, watching more of my shaft disappear inside his body. When I was buried to the hilt, I stopped moving, trying to take in all the sensations. The heat and tightness, the way my heart tripped as I looked down at him.

“What now?”

He trailed his fingers against my arm. “Fuck me as hard as you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Is that even a question?” he teased. “Start moving, please. I need it.”

I rocked forward, setting a comfortable rhythm as I gritted my teeth and listened to his moans for any signs of discomfort. His cock looked neglected as it leaked all over his stomach, so I stretched my hand to fist it.

“Oh God, just like that,” he cried out.

I snapped my hips, driving forward, while I stroked him with a sloppy grip. Despite the uneven pace, it felt fucking incredible. The room filled with the sound of our skin slapping together and our heavy breaths.

Emil was moaning and mumbling, which made it feel next-level. Like we were more connected than we’d ever been. Joined as one in that moment. Was this how it always felt in a relationship? Or was it because this thing we had was special?

He gently batted my hand away as he took over stroking his cock. “Fuck me harder, B!”

I adjusted my hands on the underside of his thighs and began driving into him with a vigor I never had before. Like I had a fever or was on fire. I wanted to make him feel as good as I did as I plowed him over and over again.

“Oh God, I’m gonna need your dick inside me every day forevermore.”

A low growl ripped from my throat like I was a ferocious animal. Maybe a lion who was preening because I was making the guy I was wild about lose his mind.

Sweat trickled down my back as I kept up the pace, but before long, I was only a few heartbeats from coming undone. “I need…oh God, not gonna last.”

Emil’s hand stroked faster as his hips arched toward me, matching my thrusts. It was sloppy but also pretty damned perfect. Maybe that’s why we worked.

He cried out as come gushed from his cock all over his stomach. When his ass tightened around my cock, I was a goner. I spurted into the condom like a rocket shooting to the stars. I moaned and shuddered through my orgasm, and hot damn, that’d been the best sex of my life.

“Don’t know how we can ever top that,” I murmured, sinking against him.

“I’ll let you know tomorrow,” he slurred, and I chuckled against his skin.

I stood to dispose of the condom, but he pulled me back to the bed, not caring that he was sticky and hot, and apparently, neither did I. Before our breaths evened out, his lips were on mine, likely because he knew I needed it.

But maybe he needed it too.

23

EMIL

The last couple of weeks had been like living in a dream. We’d FaceTimed both sets of parents to tell them the news that Bones and I were dating, but neither of our families seemed that surprised.

“Anyone paying attention could’ve guessed it,” Lark said to me during lunch. “The Ping-Pong tournaments that were like foreplay? Seriously?” He raised a brow.

My entire face felt hot because he wasn’t far off. We’d upped the stakes recently with BJs or handjobs, not to mention screwing like rabbits in every possible position.

Flash and A-Train had taken to making sex noises whenever we were around because of the one time after the fall festival when I’d gotten loud and they’d heard us outside the door. Bones had won me a plush dragon at the balloon-toss game, like some knight in shining armor, and I obviously needed to show him my appreciation. I didn’t even gloat that I’d let him beat my score. It was called compromise.

But what his teammates didn’t know was just how sweet and swoony he was. And how much I adored him for his thoughtfulness. Consent was indeed sexy.

After marching-band practice and supper in the dining hall, I headed to the dorm to finish an assignment. Given that we shared a room, we’d set strict boundaries around classwork and grades so our parents wouldn’t have anything to worry about. And with the recital coming up, dress rehearsals were grueling, and some days, it felt like I was barely keeping up. But one lopsided, smirky grin from my boyfriend was all it took to remind me it was worth it.

Bones was sitting in bed in front of his laptop when I swept through the door. I leaned over to kiss him before slipping out of my sneakers. “What are you working on?”

He seemed hesitant before stretching his hand out to me. “I want to show you something.”

“Okay.” His expression was tight and wary, so it must’ve been important. I told myself homework could wait as I slid in beside him, my pulse throbbing as I wondered what it could possibly be. Hopefully, nothing his parents had said or done to make him feel not good enough again. Since their big talk, things were definitely better. But healing was never a straight line. I knew that much.

“What’s up?” I asked as he clicked out of his tabs, then pulled up his email.

His sidelong glance was guarded before opening his flagged files. “These are all the emails I’ve sent my brother over the years.”

This was huge for him, and my heart ached as I glanced down the list and noticed all the dates, some from the last couple of months. I imagined him typing them while in the same room with me and was bummed that he’d felt he had no one to talk to about important stuff in his life. Until now. I placed my hand on his knee and squeezed.

He opened the most recent email, dated yesterday. “I want you to read this one.”

I held back a gasp. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He met my eyes, but his hand was trembling. I interlaced our fingers to help bolster him and was heartened when I felt him relax.

I inhaled a sharp breath as he tilted the screen toward me, and I began reading.

Brody,

Remember the guy I was telling you about? He’s my boyfriend now, and being with him is as awesome as I imagined. It’s still as fun as it was when we were only roommates and friends, except I get to kiss him all the time now.

I’ve never felt this way about anyone else before, but I’ve known for a while now that I’m in deep. Probably from the first time he didn’t take any shit from me or my teammates.

I love Emil. So much. He’s the best.

Until we meet again.

B.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as tears stung my eyes. Had anyone ever done something so meaningful and made me feel so cared for?

I clasped his hand. “You love me?”

His voice was wobbly when he said, “I do, but it’s okay if you don’t feel⁠—”

I cut him off. “Can I have your laptop?”

“Why?”

“You’ll see.” I positioned the computer on my lap. “I’ll tell you when to look.”

Bones lifted his phone and pretended to study it as I opened a new email window.

I took a long moment to gather my thoughts, then started typing.

Brody,

Bruce loves you so much and misses you greatly. But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your brother and save him from himself. He’s got a big heart and has turned into someone you would be proud of. Not that you weren’t before, but I have a feeling you’d agree that he’s become a better version of himself.

Bruce is sweet, thoughtful, and makes me laugh.

Plus, he looks hella hot in his football uniform.

I look forward to seeing his smile every morning.

I love him too. So much.

Until you meet again.

E.

“Okay, I’m ready for you to read it.”

I held my breath as he tilted the screen to get a better view. When he finished, he placed his face in his hands. “Fuck, why are you making me cry?”

I threw him a watery smile. “We’re both sentimental dorks.”

He pulled me to him, and our mouths met in a long, emotional kiss.

I dragged the laptop toward me again. “Now we need to send it, right?”

His gaze sprang to mine. “Are you serious?”

“That’s what you told me you do. How else will Brody get it?”

He stared at me for a long moment. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you too.” Then I hit Send, and we sat there silently, staring at the screen. For a brief moment, I felt that glimmer of hope deep in my gut that he must’ve experienced all those years.

Only to have it extinguished when the email bounced back.

“There you go,” I said. “He got it.”

His smile was filled with melancholy. “Guess he did.”

He wrapped me in his arms, and we just breathed the same air, comfortable in our affection.

Until we were startled apart by a sharp rap on the door.

“Hey, lovebirds, you in there?” Flash called.

“Christ, you could’ve texted,” Bones shouted back.

Henry’s voice rang out. “Paybacks are a bitch.”

We grinned at each other. Supposed they were.

EPILOGUE

Bones

I’d been woken up by a warm kiss and a stiff cock against my back. No way I wouldn’t give in to those begging eyes, so I gave Emil what he wanted, which was a hard fuck from behind. I certainly wasn’t complaining because, Christ, that was hot. Especially since we’d both grown fond of my experimenting with my mouth and tongue along with my fingers to loosen him up.

I had a sneaking suspicion Emil was trying to release some tension, given his hectic schedule, but our sex wasn’t always fast and hard. Sometimes, it was slow and toe-curling, with our mouths joined and our touches soft as we whispered our feelings in the dead of night. I never realized sex could be like that with someone I loved. Frantic or tender. Sometimes a mix of both.

And I certainly hadn’t expected to appreciate any of it. Or all of it.

It also wasn’t a good idea to be reminiscing about morning sex while sitting in the audience at the Performing Arts building, wedged between my parents and Emil’s.

I leaned forward to talk to Henners, who was seated next to his parents and Lark’s mom and sister. “Thanks for the tip with the flowers.”

“How could you forget after all the hype about it last year?” he muttered. We’d ribbed him for days after he’d attended the dance recital and brought Lark flowers after the performance.

“Because I was clueless back then?” I replied.

He smirked. “You said it, not me.”

I chuckled and sat back, making sure not to squash the bouquet at my feet, next to the one my parents brought. Guess they were better versed in this stuff than I was.

When the lights dimmed, Emil’s mom whispered, “Ooh, the curtain’s going up.”

There was a quiet buzz in the audience before the opening remarks from the dean of the program, pointing out the time and commitment the students and teachers had put into producing an amazing show. That was followed by an energetic hip-hop opening act featuring all the instructors, which I wouldn’t have even known was a thing if I hadn’t read about it in the pamphlet. But damn, they were good, and I supposed that was a dumb thing to think since they’d probably taught dance their entire careers.

“That was a lot of fun,” Mom said after it ended, and Dad agreed. It was so awesome that they’d shown up tonight to support Emil. It meant so much to both of us.

I had to admit my mind wandered during the next portion of the show because it was sort of boring, as was the music. The only time I perked up was when I saw Lark and Justin walk onstage for a tap-dance routine. Damn, the footwork was impressive, and I felt bad for all the times last year I’d never given them the benefit of the doubt when they’d argued that dance was an art as well as a sport. Given Emil’s recent schedule, it was clear they worked as hard, if not harder, than other athletes.

Emil’s first performance was next, and I held my breath in anticipation.

“There he is!” Mrs. Ettinger said like a proud parent, and Mom leaned forward to smile at her.

This was a modern-dance routine, and for the first time, I paid attention to how it differed from, say, ballet or tap. For one, the clothes were contemporary and trendy, even if they were all blinged out with shiny material and rhinestones. Emil said that was so they stood out onstage. It was why they wore glittery eye shadow too, which I’d admit was hot.

For this performance, the dancers wore joggers with one pant leg pulled up and loose, boxy sweatshirts exposing their shoulders. I didn’t know how they maneuvered with the extra bulk, but they mastered it. Some of the moves were like something you’d see on a street corner from kids with raw, untapped talent, and I supposed that was the point.

“Amazing,” Dad said at the end, and our moms beamed at each other. I felt like standing and whistling, but that wasn’t allowed in the auditorium, not until the end when the audience was encouraged to let loose during the finale.

I yawned my way through a few more song-and-dance numbers—damn, how long did this thing last?—when finally, I saw Emil cross the stage in tights, ballet shoes, and a glittery tank top that showed off his lean muscles. I thumped Henners’s shoulder when the female dancers followed and Lark was among them in a bouncy, white tutu. There was another male in a skirt, and the audience seemed to become more animated as a result.

Lark’s sister, Star, squealed upon seeing her brother, and Henners pulled her on his lap so they could enjoy the performance together. It was sweet, and I’d be sure to tell him later. Or maybe not. I’d tell Emil instead. I had a dude-bro reputation to maintain, after all.

Speaking of my boyfriend, he was mesmerizing to watch as he partnered up with Lark in fluid movements until Emil lifted him into the air like he weighed nothing at all. I could hear the gasps from the audience, but I was transfixed by how delicately Emil moved in ballet compared to the modern-dance number. Damn, he was obviously multitalented in both dance and music.

Sure, I made fun of his trumpet, but there was no denying he was passionate about it. But this, this seemed different. He shined on that stage like a bright star. I might’ve been biased about my boyfriend, but I didn’t think so.

They received rousing applause as they exited the stage, likely because of the men in skirts, but honestly, it shouldn’t have mattered. They were all passionate and talented and deserved commendation.

I looked down at the program, noting that Emil would be in one more ballet number. That performance was also awesome, as was the finale, where they all came onstage to take a bow. The audience got to their feet, and I did too—which helped work out the stiffness in my knees—and everyone cheered loudly.

By the end of the production, I was drained, so I could only imagine how Emil fared. But maybe he was more energized than tired, like I felt after winning a game.

We all reconvened in the lobby to wait for the dancers to change and grab their things.

“Thank you for coming,” Mrs. Ettinger said to my parents.

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Dad replied.

“Emil was amazing,” Mom said, and his parents grinned.

“So talented,” Dad added.

“In every way,” I agreed, then realized how that sounded.

When Mom winked at me, I felt my face get hot.

I watched as Lark came out and was surrounded by his and Henners’s families. It was promising to see the Albrechts embrace Lark. He lifted Star in his arms and smooched her cheek.

Finally, Emil came out as well, dressed in his regular clothes, but there was still evidence of his glittery eye makeup and lip gloss.

“Congrats on a great show!” I handed him the flowers and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“Thank you.” He sniffed the roses. “You weren’t too bored, were you?”

“No way! I thought it was so cool—well, mostly—and damn, E, you can dance. I mean, I always knew you could, but I’m so impressed.”

“We agree,” Mom said, handing him her bouquet.

His smile glowed as his parents hugged and praised him too.

When I caught Lark’s eye, I congratulated him as well. “You were awesome.”

“Wasn’t he?” Henners cooed like a lovesick puppy.

Was that how I acted with Emil? Christ, I hoped not.

“So let’s be honest, how many times did you want to drop Lark during practices?” I teased Emil.

Lark huffed out a laugh. “He wouldn’t dare!”

“Nah, he was a good partner,” Emil said with a grin.

“He better say that. I had to put up with all the pining!” Lark said.

Emil glanced at Henners. “Turnabout is fair play.”

“You pined after me?” I said against Emil’s ear, that mushy feeling in my stomach again.

He bussed my cheek. “I’ll never admit it.”

We all went to dinner as a group, which was really cool. I loved feeling like I had people around me who cared. Emil’s parents were so great, and my mom and dad had more than made up for the tension that used to be present between us.

After we said our goodbyes, we held hands the whole way back to the dorm.

“Now what?” I asked.

Emil batted his eyelashes. “Start a rewatch of the entire Slay series, give each other facials, and make out?”

I grinned. “Two out of three ain’t bad.”

“Liar.”

Yeah…yeah I was. It didn’t matter what we did, as long as it was together.

AFTERWORD

Thank you for reading UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN!

I hope you enjoyed it! If you jumped in here and haven’t read Lark and Henner’s book yet, it’s called XOXO. Read an excerpt HERE.

Stay tuned for teasers, bonus content, and/or release dates for my future books by joining my Facebook reader group or newsletter. Follow the links below!

Find Christina:

THE SWOON ROOM

(Facebook Reader Group)

INSTAGRAM

WEBSITE

NEWSLETTER

ALSO BY CHRISTINA LEE

*Find links to these books HERE!

Standalones:

A Breath Apart

Love Me Louder

Kickflip

A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies

Have Mercy

Incandescent

Undone

Love Song

In the Gray

Roosevelt College Series:

XOXO

Until We Meet Again

Franklin U Multi-Author Series:

Making Waves (#7 but also stands alone)

Fated Series (High Fantasy/PNR)

Moon Flower

Moon Spell

Easton U Pirates series:

Bat Boy

Home Plate

Perfect Score

So This is Christmas series:

Beautiful Dreamer

Beautiful Temptation

Under My Skin series:

Regret

Reawaken

Reclaim

Redeem

Roadmap to Your Heart series

The Darkest Flame

The Faintest Spark

The Deepest Blue

The Hardest Fall

The Sweetest Goodbye

Co-written with Nyrae Dawn (AKA Riley Hart)

Free Fall series:

Touch the Sky

Chase the Sun

Paint the Stars

Spinoff from Free Fall series:

Living Out Loud

Standalones with Riley Hart:

Of Sunlight and Stardust

Science & Jockstraps

Forbidden Love series with Riley Hart:

Ever After: A Gay Fairy Tale

Forever Moore: A Gay Fairy Tale

Boys in Makeup series with Riley Hart:

Pretty Perfect

Pretty Sweet

Pretty Wild

Co-written with Felice Stevens

Heartsville series:

Last Call (MMM)

First Light (MM)

M/F books that can all standalone:

All of You

Before You Break

Whisper to Me

Promise Me This

Two of Hearts

Three Sacred Words

Twelve Truths and a Lie

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Once upon a time, Christina Lee was a wardrobe stylist in New York City. She spent her days schlepping clothes, hailing cabs, and on the hunt for the perfect lip gloss, which became a bit of an addiction—along with books and coffee. You could always find her perched in a corner booth of a favorite diner sipping a dark roast and reading.

She currently lives in the Midwest with her husband and son—her two favorite guys. She’s been a clinical social worker and a special education teacher and while very rewarding, they still didn’t feel like an exact fit. It wasn't until she began writing a weekly column for the local newspaper that the bells went off in her head. She could finally draw from her real-life experiences and vivid imagination to write fiction—and she’s never looked back. 

Christina writes romance in different sub-genres, but mostly with LGBTQ characters because representation matters and everyone deserves a happily-ever-after.

EXCERPT FROM XOXO

Prologue

Seven Years Ago

Henry

I shuffled toward the common room of the children’s ward at Mercy Hospital, wearing a hoodie over my thin gown because of the chill in the air and fuzzy socks with grippers so I didn’t slip and fall. It was standard wear for all patients, so I no longer felt self-conscious about it, and some days I was too sick to care.

My heart leaped when I spotted Lark working a puzzle at a round table. It was one of his favorite activities, especially putting together the famous painting with the ballerinas. He’d sworn me to secrecy before sharing his dream of dancing on Broadway someday. He liked putting earbuds in and listening to soundtracks from his favorite musicals. I’d been to quite a few with my parents and only enjoyed a handful. But Billy Elliot was a memorable one. Not that I was as obsessed with the story as he was, but it helped us find common ground. Lark had taken dance lessons his entire life, but his cancer treatments had set him back.

“Guess what?”

“Chicken butt?” Lark replied, and we smiled at each other.

“I’m being discharged tomorrow,” I said, and though I was excited, I was also sad to leave my new friend. I had what the doctors called a successful bone-marrow transplant for leukemia. But only time would tell.

“Awesome,” Lark responded around a cough.

I sat down in an orange plastic chair. “You get better too so you can go home.”

“I’m trying my best.” He slid an apple Jolly Rancher across the table to me, then pulled down his mask and popped a watermelon one in his mouth. It was his favorite flavor, and his mom kept his hard-candy obsession well-stocked.

I slid a corner piece over to him, though he could probably do this puzzle with his eyes closed at this point. Lark’s cancer was a bit trickier than mine because they also found spots of it on his lungs. He had Hodgkin’s lymphoma, and people often got our two types of cancers confused. But mine started in my bone marrow and his in his lymph nodes. And yeah, we both knew way too much about the disease.

We’d been in this hospital for the better part of two months, both receiving treatment and fighting for our lives. The hospital staff tried to treat us as the kids we were by offering activities during the day as long as we wore our masks and washed our hands before and after leaving the room.

One of my favorite days was when they brought the adorable therapy dogs. My least favorite was when one of us died.

Lark and I had grown close, maybe because we were a similar age—him being eleven and me twelve. But it seemed more than that, even if on the surface we had few shared interests. I loved sports and played them all my life. My cancer had also placed me on the sidelines, and my dad worried it might ruin my high school football chances. I was actually more worried about surviving.

“Should we exchange numbers?” I asked Lark as I sat down across from him.

He frowned. “I don’t even own a cell phone. But maybe our parents can?”

“Sounds good,” I replied, though we both knew it was unlikely. Our parents barely saw each other and hadn’t spoken more than a sentence or two. Talk about having little in common.

My parents ran a prestigious real-estate business in Hunterdon County—at least that’s how they always described it. They were usually busy and sometimes seemed more worried about how my illness might affect them more than me. Don’t get me wrong, they were scared and sad when I was first diagnosed; it was written all over their faces. But soon enough they put on a brave front and offered plenty of reassurances—maybe too many. As if my cancer was only a blip on the radar that was my life. Of course, one could only hope. But in the thick of it, I needed all the support and comfort I could get. They offered it, but I always felt like they never really sank into it with me.

And I got it. They wanted to remain optimistic. But as soon as they heard I was being discharged, they were already talking future plans and what private high schools I should apply to with prestigious football programs. There was that word again. Prestigious.

I didn’t tell Lark any of that, but I wanted to. I felt like I would be betraying my parents if I did. They were always worried about appearances, and though I knew I had grown up not wanting for anything, sometimes I wished they would be more like other parents. Like Lark’s mom and stepdad. He wasn’t around a lot, but she was, and she was so warm, caring, and awesome.

But there was another layer to all this, and it had to do with my father. He’d had epilepsy as a kid but eventually got better. Mom told me that Dad had too much pride to admit how his memories of being discounted and excluded as the sick kid at school had affected him his whole life. He focused on how he and others with chronic illnesses had managed to go on and have happy, productive lives. He thought I should follow his lead when it came to my own illness—like my cancer was a dirty family secret—despite times and attitudes having changed.

Lark crunched his candy, which was followed by another hacking episode.

“Your cough sounds a little better,” I said. That was a lie. This bout seemed to be lingering. And he knew it too because he gave me a look without calling me on it.

“I’m gonna miss this place,” I said as my gaze caught on the large painted rainbow that lined the far wall. Animals and kids were featured on the others.

Lark scoffed. “You will not.”

I laughed. “Well, then maybe I’ll just miss you.”

Our eyes met, and he looked away first as he swallowed. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing—about the night I’d sneaked into his room when he was really sick after a chemo treatment. I’d taken the wet rag from the basin and wiped his head, then climbed beside him in bed to offer some body warmth because he was shivering so badly.

When he’d finally fallen asleep with his head against my shoulder, I breathed out in relief. We might not have had a lot in common, but nobody could say they had experienced any of this. The IVs and bags of fluids, around-the-clock nurses, doctors, and the morose faces of our visitors. It made our connection even stronger.

I’d eventually fallen asleep beside him, only to be found by the night-shift nurse and shooed off to my own bed. But she’d winked at me as she helped me get settled in my room, so I knew I wasn’t in too much trouble.

The next day was a flurry of activity as my parents showed up to whisk me away from what they called “that god-awful place.” But it wasn’t that bad, not with Lark there. Mom and Dad were always dressed for work, even at home, and the comparison couldn’t have been starker than when Lark’s mom and stepdad showed up in jeans. Lark’s mom always wore these flowy shirts with beading or embroidery, and my parents referred to her as a bohemian. Like it was a bad word. I just thought she was cool and free-spirited. But it was obvious they looked down on her, which was one of the reasons I’d never shared more about Lark. The one time I’d tried to tell them about my new friend, they’d given me disapproving eyes.

“Don’t get too attached to someone you won’t ever see again,” Mom had said, and I could read the underlying pity in her eyes, either for him or me. What she didn’t say was that his family would never measure up to their society friends.

The truth was we were the same when it came to our health. Just blood and bones and a pumping heart. Ironic, huh?

“Let’s get a move on it, son,” Dad said. “We have a busy day ahead of us.”

“It’s important for Henry to rest when he gets home,” the nurse warned.

“Yes, of course,” Mom replied with a tight smile, as if they knew better than her how to care for me. I felt my face get hot as I turned away to gather my things and place them in the designer tote bags with the logo I recognized all too well. They would never dream of letting me use the plastic bags the nurse had provided.

I hesitated as I followed them into the hallway. The discharge papers had come earlier than expected, and I wondered if my parents had anything to do with that. They had made calls to doctors and demanded stuff before.

“Wait. I’ll meet you at the nurses’ station. I want to say goodbye to someone.”

“Henry,” Dad said sternly.

“Just five minutes.”

I jogged to Lark’s room before they could say anything else.

He was in a chair near the window, reading a book and twirling a strand of his wavy blond hair. One of his nervous habits. That or biting his lip until it became swollen. But I never called him on it. He had every reason to be worried. We all did.

After watching him for a beat more and thinking he looked like a delicate bird right then, I cleared my throat. “I came to say goodbye.”

“Oh, they’re letting you leave early.” His smile was sad as he stood up. “I’m glad you let me know. I was hoping we’d get in one more game of Monopoly.”

My stomach lurched. Lark always thought it was cool that the street names were the same as the ones in Atlantic City, but we always folded early because the game ran too long.

“Yeah, my parents are a bit anxious to get me home.”

“Makes sense.” We stood there awkwardly until he blurted, “I hope you make it.”

“I hope you do too.”

The idea that one of us might not sat heavy in my gut.

“Okay, well…bye.” I lurched forward to draw him into a loose hug. His arms gripped my waist tightly, making my skin tingle. His scent was a mix of watermelon and hospital antiseptic, but I didn’t hold it against him. I probably smelled the same, minus the candy. But it would always remind me of him.

“I’ll miss you,” he said as he drew back. “Wish we lived closer.”

But we were on opposite sides of town.

“I won’t forget you. How could I with a crazy name like Lark Levitt?”

He’d told me his mom was fond of nature and especially birds, which made a ton of sense. She even wore a birdcage necklace. Still, a funny name to give your kid. But also cool too. My parents would’ve only considered giving me some family or important-sounding name.

“You neither, Henry Albrecht. The third.”

I rolled my eyes. “Henners, remember?” It was my nickname at school and on the football field.

Lark smiled. “I remember.”

“Okay, well…” I awkwardly inched toward the door.

“Oh, one more thing.” Lark strode to the drawer, opened one of his notebooks, and retrieved an envelope. “You can read it later.”

Just as he passed it to me, I felt his warm lips against my cheek, and my whole body buzzed to life. I gasped as if I had been shocked—and maybe I had. He stepped back warily and glanced out the window. Not wanting him to think he’d done something wrong, I leaned forward to swipe my mouth against his cheek too. Except he turned his head right then and I kissed the corner of his lips instead.

“Sor…sorry about that.”

His face flushed. “I didn’t mind it.”

It felt like pins and needles were pricking me. And not the kind from the chemo.

It was hard to leave that room, but I forced my feet to move, forced myself not to look back.

There was a lump in my throat the whole way home, like I was leaving him to die there. Okay, that was being dramatic. But I felt so closely tied to him through our shared experience that it was hard to imagine parting ways. I had never felt that connected to another human being before, not even my parents.

I carefully opened the envelope in the back seat, hoping my parents didn’t hear the rustle of paper. A watermelon Jolly Rancher fell to my lap, and I smiled.

I pulled out the folded note and read it.

Henners,

You mean a lot to me.

I’ll never forget you.

It’s been really hard, but you made everything better.

I’ll be rooting for you. Good luck.

XOXO,

Lark

I sucked in a sharp breath at the XOXO written there. That meant like, hugs and kisses, right? I could still feel my lips tingling from that accidental kiss.

Was it accidental?

My heart clenched, aching the entire way home.

“You mean a lot to me.”

I resumed my life almost immediately—my parents made sure of that—and soon enough the hospital stay became a blur. Like looking out of a back window as you drove away from a lengthy trip abroad. Not that a hospital room was a vacation, but Lark had helped alleviate some of the stress.

We never saw each other again. But I would never forget him either.

*DOWNLOAD XOXO