Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“Wedding … Really?”
“It won’t be happening for a while, but yeah. We’re engaged.”
I hug him again. “Congrats, man. That’s amazing.”
I’m not sure if the small seed of disappointment is over Logan himself or that he has his life in some sort of order and I don’t.
I offer my congratulations to Joe too.
“You play for CU, don’t you?” he says in response.
“Yeah, why?”
“Do you know Foster Grant? He’s signed with Montreal, right?”
I can’t help i as my eyes widen at Logan. “Dude. You’re marrying a hockey fan. I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Yeah, well, I still hate the sport, so you two are more than welcome to bond over it.”
“I already like him more than you.” I smile sweetly and turn to Joe where we talk hockey for five minutes straight until Logan’s so bored he can’t take it anymore.
“Okay, hockey time is over now. I want to hear all about Vermont.”
“I dunno. It’s Vermont. The foliage is great.”
“Yes, because I’m totally asking about the foliage. Are you seeing anyone?”
“Nah. I was interested in my teammate’s sister who visited campus over the summer, but I was told in no uncertain terms if I touched her I would wake up with my dick cut off, and I kind of like my dick.”
They both laugh.
“What about other dicks?” Logan asks, his voice low and husky.
Damn it.
It’s like realizing I might not be entirely straight gave my cock permission to respond to anything remotely gay-sounding. Like it’s all, “Sorry, dude, you signed the waiver. I’m allowed to get excited over anything I want now.”
“When you called, you sounded a little … confused,” Logan says.
This is an awkward conversation to have in front of his fiancé, and my gaze darts to Joe.
He holds up his hands. “I know everything, but if you’d prefer to have this conversation alone …”
“Do you mind?” Logan asks him.
“Not at all. Give me a call when you’re done.” Joe kisses Logan on the cheek, and then we’re alone as he takes the boat.
Logan throws his arm around me and leads me up the dock toward the house. “I’m totally imposing on your family dinner like I used to.”
“Mom will love it.”
We have a firepit in our backyard, lined with rock bench seats surrounding it.
Logan takes me there and gestures for me to sit. “Okay, what’s up?”
Definitely not my dick. Don’t look down.
“I dunno. Ever since it’s been pointed out to me that straight guys don’t kiss other guys, I’ve been thinking …”
“Oh God. Richard Cohen and thinking. I didn’t think those words went together. Unless there was a not thrown in the middle of them.”
I shove him. “How come I can’t call myself dumb, but you can?”
“Because I’m joking when I do it. You’re not.”
Touché.
“So, I’m pretty sure two of my teammates are sleeping together. They think they’re being secretive, but they’re really not. Especially if I can pick up on that shit. The thought of them together … it really does it for me. And other gay things I never thought about before are now turning me on. It’s like a switch has flipped. But the idea of going out and hooking up with a dude?” I screw up my face. “Nah, I can’t see me doing that.”
“And no one’s saying you have to.”
“I do kinda want some answers though.”
“So explore it in other ways.”
“Other ways?”
“There’s this thing. You might not have heard of it because it’s so new and all. It’s called the internet.”
“Ha, ha. You’re so funny.”
“For real though. Try some gay dating apps. Talk to some guys. Try to figure it out that way.”
My lips form into a thin line. “I’ll think about it.”
“If you’d wanted to work this out a few summers ago, I would’ve volunteered a helping hand, but I don’t think my fiancé would like that very much now.”
I huff. “Probably not.”
Silence settles between us, but in the way it always would. It’s not an awkward silence but one of peace.
The sound of warblers and blue jays in the late afternoon, the smell of saltwater, and everything else typically Maine welcomes me home.
“So, what are your plans when you graduate next year?” Logan asks.
I groan. “Not you too.”
The annoying part of being a dumbass is that when I think I’m making good decisions, I’m really, really not.
And as a picture of an erect dick fills my phone screen, I realize this is one of those moments.
Dating apps are the worst.
I’d like to blame Logan for giving me the idea, but it was my idea to go through with it.
I throw my phone on the bed and stare up at the ceiling of my cramped childhood bedroom.
I thought I’d be mature about this, so I told myself to work it out on my own because bringing it up with my friends from school would result in more mockery. You know, even more than they already give me for blurting out in a locker room that I kissed a guy.