“A new tattoo design,” he says, lifting his eyes briefly to mine, before returning to his art.
“Must be special.” I cross my feet at the ankles. “Because you’re in your own little world over there.”
He fixes me with a lopsided grin, setting his pencil down. “He wants my attention.” Leaning forward, he grins wider. “What’s wrong, baby? Feeling neglected?”
I snort out a laugh, flipping him the bird. “Screw you, man.”
“You wish.” He waggles his brows, and the air shifts, sexual tension sparking between us.
Austen darts forward, leaning over the arm of my chair to plant a hard kiss on my mouth. “If you must know, I’m designing something for you.”
I run my fingers over the top of his head, rubbing the silky strands of his dark hair. “Do I get to see?” I inquire.
“It’s not finished.” He sits back, picking up his sketch pad. “But I can show you, if you like.”
I move over beside him in a flash before he changes his mind. Austen smiles, looking a little...nervous? He holds his pad out to me, and my mouth hangs open at the exquisite drawing. It’s a simple concept, but the attention to detail and the fine pencil strokes elevate it to something more complex.
It’s a boat wheel with a compass in the center, and a rope weaves around the wheel linking it to an anchor underneath. I immediately understand the symbolism, but the words, written in Austen’s distinct penmanship, confirm the sentiment.
Drive your own ship, but let me be the one to anchor you.
Words get stuck behind the messy ball of emotion clogging my throat, and I can’t speak. A tear leaks from the corner of one eye as I stare at my boyfriend in complete awe. There are so many things I love and admire about Austen Hayes, but the all-consuming way he cares for me is a thing of beauty.
“Austen,” I choke out, carefully putting the pad down and pulling him into my arms. “No one on this planet gets me the way you do, and I want you to be my anchor for all eternity.”
His eyes are damp with emotion as we stare at one another. “I want to be that for you, but I would never force the path you travel. I’ll be there for the ride. To support and ground you whenever you need it.”
“I want you to ink it on me,” I say, excitement churning in my gut.
Austen spent a couple summers during high school helping out at a tattoo parlor in Denver, and the owner let him ink some basic designs, having recognized his obvious talent. Austen’s Plan B—if the NFL doesn’t happen—is to do an apprenticeship at the same parlor, and the owner has already confirmed there is a place for him whenever he wants. Long-term, Austen intends to open his own shop and build it into a franchise business. Hence his business major. Austen is one of the most focused, most determined people I know, and whatever he ends up doing, I already know will be a success. He’s too talented and too driven for it not to be.
“It’s not finished, and I’m not skilled enough yet, but one day. Sure.” He scrubs a hand over his jaw. “You really like it?”
“I love it.” I try not to let my sudden disappointment take from the gesture. “Thank you for showing it to me.”
***
I’m en route to the Clark Kerr Campus where Mol and Kate share a dorm when I make a spur of the moment decision. Adrenaline spikes, residing alongside a bucketload of nerves, but my gut tells me to go for it. Pulling my cell from my jeans pocket, I tap out a quick message to Austen.
Me: I’m going to tell my friends. Wish me luck.
My phone rings about thirty seconds later, and a goofy grin spreads across my mouth when I see my boyfriend’s gorgeous green eyes flashing at me on the screen. I answer his call straightaway, smiling as I head southeast of the main campus.
“Hey. Why aren’t you at practice?” I say in greeting.
“I’m getting changed,” he confirms, talking louder over the noise of conversation and laughter in the background. “Are you sure?” he adds.
“Yep. It’s a last-minute decision, but it feels right, and it’ll be a kind of test run before I tell my family.” Initially, I was going to head home this weekend, but Gia is coming up, so I’m heading to Wellesley the following weekend instead.
The noise fades in the background, and the sound of a door slamming reverberates through the line. “What exactly are you planning to say?” he asks, talking quietly into the phone.
“Just about me,” I blurt, realizing where his concern is coming from. “I would never tell them about us,” I whisper, glancing around me as I walk to ensure no one is listening. “Not without discussing that with you first. I’m just going to tell them I’m gay. That’s it.”
That’s it. As if it’s no biggie.
“Do you trust them?”
“With my life.” I’ve zero doubts. I’ve confided a ton of shit to my friends in the two-plus years we have known one another, and they have never shared anything with anyone, and nothing has made its way into the public domain. “They have given me no reason to ever doubt they are loyal to me.”
“Then tell them everything,” he says.
Just like that.
“Are you sure?” I splutter.
“I don’t want you omitting half the truth because of me. Colton knows. By this weekend, Gia will too. Your friends deserve to know.”
“Okay.”
“Good.” Someone shouts out Austen’s name in the background. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you later. I know you’re nervous, but don’t be. They’re your friends. You’ve got this.”
“Thanks, man. See you at home.”
***
Kate opens the door with a flourish, flinging it back and gesturing me inside. As student accommodations go, this Spanish mission-style complex is the best Berkeley has to offer, in my opinion. The suites are the largest available, and they open out into a decent-sized living area. On either side are the separate bedrooms. There is a large shared bathroom on each floor.
“Come sit with me,” Mol says, patting the empty space beside her on the larger of the two couches. “You don’t want to be a third wheel.”
I arch a brow as I flop down beside Mol, my lips curling into a wide grin when Kate throws herself down on the smaller couch, flinging her arms around Seb and planting a firm kiss on his mouth.
“What’d I miss?” I ask, grabbing a bottle of water from the coffee table.
“We’re official,” Kate says, and there’s no disguising the glee in her voice.
“It’s about time,” I say, as Seb slides his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. “I’m happy for you guys.”
“Our parents are already planning the wedding,” Kate says, giggling, totally oblivious to the look of sheer terror lighting up Seb’s eyes.
Mol snickers, noticing his expression too. “You might want to cool your jets, sister. Don’t want to scare the love of your life away now you’ve finally gotten him to succumb to your charms.”
“Seb knows I’m teasing.” She beams up at him, and I love seeing this different side to her. Seb and Kate are both from New York, and their parents have been close friends for years. It hits me how similar the situation is to Austen and Gia; except with Seb and Kate, the romantic feelings are real.
“Unless you want to give me a coronary, I suggest keeping all talk of weddings to a minimum. Or maybe nonexistent,” he says, pressing a kiss to her dark brow.
“Well, I’ve got news too,” I pipe up. Might as well rip the Band-Aid right off. My three friends turn expectant gazes on me. “I’m gay.”
A round of applause breaks out in the room, and I stare at my friends like they’ve just grown extra heads.
Kate jumps out of Seb’s embrace, rushing over to hug me first. “Thank fuck you told us. We were afraid we’d be dead and buried before you admitted the truth.”
“Wait.” My brow scrunches up as I hold her at arm’s length. “You knew?” I look at a smiling Mol and a smug-looking Seb. “You all knew?”
They nod in sync.
“Not really,” Mol admits. “In fact, when Seb first told us he thought you were into guys, we laughed in his face. But over time, we’ve noticed.”
“I don’t think anyone who didn’t know you would guess though,” Kate hurriedly adds. “And you get hit on by girls left and right.”
“That’s just because I’m a Kennedy.”
Mol rolls her eyes. “So fucking delusional.” She thumps me in the upper arm. “It’s because you’re hot. Like sex-on-a-stick, drop-your-panties-no-question kind of hot.”
“I’m not sure I needed to know that,” I murmur.
“Or us,” Seb adds.
Mol thumps me again, but she’s got the muscle strength of a fly, so I barely feel a twinge. “I’m not hitting on you, because that’d be gross. I’m just pointing out that girls hit on you because you’re hot. It’s not just because you’re famous.”
“That’s the most backhanded compliment I’ve ever heard,” Kate says. “But what Mol is trying to say is right.”
“How did you figure it out?” I ask Seb, leaning back on the couch, relaxing because my friends aren’t freaked out by my sexuality, and that is the biggest relief. Warmth blossoms in my chest, spreading all over, and I can’t stop smiling.
“I’m bi, and I can usually tell which guys are into guys.”
Seb casually drops that bomb and I stare at him with my jaw hanging loose. He smirks, sliding his arm around Kate as she returns to her seat.
“I thought that gaydar nonsense was bullshit,” Kate says, crossing her feet at the ankles. “And a way for homophobic jerks to stereotype gay men.”
“It’s not,” Mol interjects. “I did some research on it for an assignment, and these psychologists conducted a study, and they discovered it’s real. It’s basically an intuitive ability. Some are better at it than others.”
“Well, I clearly suck,” I say. “Because I had no clue you were bi.”
“I don’t feel the need to broadcast it,” Seb says. “And I wasn’t sure if it would help or hinder you in admitting your truth, so I chose to say nothing until you did.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wanted to, but I’ve only recently accepted it myself.”
“What about your family?” Kate asks, opening a bag of chips and dumping them into a bowl on the coffee table. “Do they know?”
I shake my head. “Not yet, but I’m telling them soon.”
“About Austen too?” Seb asks, popping a chip in his mouth.
“You know about me and Austen?” I stare at him in shock. At all of them in shock, because it’s obvious they have worked that out too. “Let me guess. Your magical gaydar was at work again?”
“I thought we just determined it’s not magic,” Mol says, opening a jar of salsa.
A heavy pressure settles on my chest, and I swallow hard. “How did you know we were together?” We thought we were being careful.
“Your eyes naturally gravitate to one another, and the chemistry between you is smokin’ hot, man,” Seb admits.
“Fuck.” I drag a hand through my hair. “We need to keep it a secret.”
Mol taps my arm. “It’s obvious to us because we’re your friends, and we spend time with you both.”
“I haven’t noticed anyone else noticing,” Seb says, trying to reassure me.
“No one knows, and you can’t tell anyone.” My solemn gaze bounces between them.
“You don’t need to worry about us saying anything,” Seb says. “We would never tell anyone about you or Austen. It’s nobody’s business but your own.”
“We won’t tell anyone, and you guys can be yourselves around us,” Kate adds. “But I am curious.” She shoots me a devilish look, and I prepare myself.
“Oh, boy,” Mol titters, dipping a chip in salsa and shoving it in her mouth.
“Do you top or bottom? And who has the biggest cock because—”
Seb plasters his hand over his girlfriend’s mouth. “She still has zero filter. In case you were wondering if she’d undergone a personality transplant since lunch.”
I chuckle as Kate bites Seb’s hand, and he yanks it back, narrowing his eyes on his girlfriend.
“You crack me up, girl, but there’s no chance I’ll ever answer those questions,” I say.
She mock pouts. “You’re no fun. Do you have any idea how hot the thought of you guys fucking is?” She fans her face. “Like, hot. Damn. You’re both so sexy, and I imagine you wrestling for dominance in the bedroom and pinning each other down, fingering the fuck out of—”
Seb slams his hand over her mouth again. “Sorry, man. She needs another introduction to ethics one-oh-one.”
“Or you need to fuck her harder so she’s not imagining Austen and Keats screwing their brains out,” Mol says.
“Or introduce her to gay porn,” I suggest.
Kate jumps up, pulling Seb with her. “That’s a wonderful idea. We should start working on it straightaway.”
Mol pulls a cushion over her face, mumbling to herself. Kate and Seb laugh.
“What’s your deal?” I inquire, ripping the cushion off her face before she smothers.
“They’re in the honeymoon phase. Use your imagination,” she deadpans.
“Aw, babe. I’m so sorry.” Kate leans down, smacking a loud kiss on Mol’s cheek. “I’ll buy you some earplugs.”
“I so need to get laid,” Mol grumbles, flipping Kate the bird.
I burst out laughing, unable to keep it in anymore. “You guys crack me up.” A well of emotion springs open in my chest, and tears sting the backs of my eyes. I stand, clearing my throat. “You’re the best friends I’ve ever had, and I wish it hadn’t taken me so long to remove my head from my ass.”
“Hey.” Kate pulls me into a hug. “You needed to go at your own pace. We understand that.”
“You owe us nothing, Keats, but I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to tell us, and we’re here for you.” Seb clamps his hand on my shoulder.
“We love you,” Mol says, draping herself around me from behind. “And this changes nothing. You’re still the same adorable you.”
***
I’m floating on a proverbial cloud as I walk toward home a couple hours later, still on a high after the conversation with my friends. I filled them in on the situation with Brock before I left, and they were all outraged on my behalf, instantly plotting ways we could take the asshole down.
I stop to pick up takeout and a bottle of pinot noir, hoping Austen will be okay to relax his diet tonight, because I’m in the mood to celebrate.
As I round the corner toward our apartment building, a tall, dark form steps out in front of me, blocking my path. My muscles lock up as our gazes meet, and my spine stiffens. “What do you want, Dax?” I ask, in no mood for his bullshit.
He holds his palms up, taking a step closer. “Not a fight, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m more of a lover than a fighter. I’m sure Austen has explained that.”
The insinuation, combined with his smug smile, rubs me the wrong way. My fist clenches, and an unfamiliar burn races through my veins. “Austen has told me everything. Including how you rejected him and cruelly broke his heart. Think that’s all I need to know.” I move to walk around him, but he sidesteps me, forcing me back.
“I made a mistake, and I’m here to put things right.”
“Unlucky for you, it’s too late.”
He eyes me from head to toe in a slow perusal. “I’m sure you’re a decent guy. Austen wouldn’t be with anyone who isn’t, but you’re not right for him. You should walk away now before you get hurt.”
How the fuck does this guy know I’m romantically involved with Austen? And who the fuck does he think he is telling me what to do?
“Go fuck yourself, Dax. Austen wouldn’t touch you if you were the last man alive.” I shove past him, barely restraining my rage.
He grabs my arm, pulling me back. “That’s where you’re wrong.” He tugs the top of his tee down, exposing the ink on his upper chest. “You never get over your first love, and that’s who we are to each other.” He points at the crude love heart inked just over his beating heart, “A & D” encased inside. Two words in a foreign language are scrawled in cursive over the heart.
He drops my arm, and I should make my escape, but I’m frozen in place.
“Austen inked that on me himself. It was his idea to add the Latin.” He runs the tip of his finger over the text. “Semper iuncti. It means together forever.”
My heart feels like a block of stone in my chest, and I’m finding it hard to breathe.
“I’m trying to do you a solid, man. Austen may be resisting now, but he won’t resist forever.” He thumps a hand over his heart. “Because we’re soul mates. He knows it as well as I do. You’re just someone to pass the time with. You don’t understand him like I do. You couldn’t, because what Austen and I shared was intense and deep, and nothing can compare. No one can compare.”
He squeezes my shoulder, and I push him aside. Fog swirls through my brain as panic charges through my body, mixing with a tsunami of emotions, threatening to derail me. I’m a hot mess on the inside, but I refuse to let this asshole see that, so I pull myself together. “Believe whatever bullshit you want, but Austen will never be yours. You had your chance, and you blew it. Leave him alone.” I stab him with a glare before brushing past him, clutching the takeout bag in a tight grip as I head toward our apartment building with fissures cracking my heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Austen
The front door slams against the wall as Keats enters the apartment like a raging storm. Tightness spreads across my chest at the thought things haven’t gone well. I’ve been on edge since I arrived home to an empty apartment, hoping it was a good thing my boyfriend wasn’t home yet. Praying it meant he was talking it all through with his friends and they were supportive. But if the aggressive way he’s opened the door is any indication, things aren’t looking good.
Shit. I stand slowly, ready to comfort him as he exits the hallway, stomping into the living area. He puts a takeout bag and bottle of wine down on the coffee table before facing me.
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