“Okay.” He stopped, the low music coming out of the speakers a backdrop to his uncertainty. And took a deep breath. “I like Marcus. A lot.” Ryan snorted, and Ben shot him a glare.
“Sorry, sorry.” Ryan held up his hands in surrender. “Go on.”
“Anyway.” Ben settled back in his seat. “You know what he said about not wanting to be a secret.”
“Yeah, I know what he said. And I know that you still haven’t actually talked to him about that.”
“I’m working up to it!”
“Okay, fine. I’m listening.”
“I haven’t talked to him about anything, but he started sending me these pictures when—”
“Pictures?” Ryan’s voice was high-pitched and loud in the confines of the car. “What kind of pictures?” Ryan’s face was bright red.
Ben went over what he’d just said in his mind and then almost swallowed his tongue.
“Not those kind of pictures! Oh my god.”
Ben covered his burning face with his hands. Ryan started giggling beside him, a little hysterically, and it set Ben off as well. It took them about five minutes to get it back together because every time one of them would stop, they would look at the other and they were off cackling again. Ben had to wipe the tears from his eyes before he could go on. Finally, he opened the texts and scrolled up to the first picture. Ryan sobered as he quickly scanned the texts. He nodded to himself as he read. Ben watched as he got to the picture from last night, and then took the phone back from him.
“Well?”
“Dude, he is so into you.” Ryan wasn’t smiling. “And either he’s changed his mind or he’s leading you on.” Ben blinked at the anger on his face. “He better not be screwing around with you.”
“Do you really think he’d do that?” It was an honest question. Ryan had known Marcus longer than Ben, and Ben would trust his opinion.
“No, I don’t think so.” Ryan looked very serious for a moment. “I mean, I would hunt him down if I thought he was being a dick and, I don’t know, messing with you or something.”
Ben was absurdly touched by Ryan’s protectiveness. “Thank you for being willing to beat someone up for me. It means a lot.”
“Beat him up?” Ryan smirked. “I didn’t say anything about beating him up. Of the two of us, you’re the one that’s used to fighting.” Ben made an affronted noise. He wasn’t a fighter, even though Coach had recommended he take up boxing or something similar. “Oh, I’m kidding, don’t get like that.”
“Fine. You’d go tell Rachel on him.” Ben pointed a finger at him. “You know that’s what you’d do, don’t even try to lie.”
Ryan shrugged. “Probably. But that doesn’t solve the current problem.”
“And the current problem is?”
Ben got a smirk that made him more than a little nervous.
“Look, there’s definitely something he’s trying to tell you. How do I convince you that you’re going to have to talk to him about it?”
“But—” Ben didn’t have a good follow up. He groaned and banged his head against the window. “What the hell am I supposed to say?”
“Huh.” Ryan over exaggeratedly rubbed at his chin. “It’s almost like we’ve had this exact same conversation before.”
Ben threw up his hands in exasperation. “You’re an ass. I don’t know what Rachel sees in you.”
Ryan waggled his eyebrows at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Oh my god, that was awful.” Ben threw his hat at Ryan, who deftly caught it and jammed it onto his own head. “You’re awful.”
“Yes, but who else is going to listen to your boy problems?”
Ben squirmed in his seat. “Beth, probably.”
“She cornered you and asked you a bunch of questions, didn’t she?” Ben nodded, his face burning hot. “Well, do you want to talk about your boy problems with your sister?” Ben shook his head. “See? I’m your only hope.”
“That’s not Yoda.”
“Shh, I’m improvising.” The car had been running the entire time they’d been talking, and Ryan put it in gear to back out of the parking space. “Dude, just ask him.”
“Ask him how?”
“I don’t know. Say ‘Hey, you keep sending me hot pictures, and now I’m confused.’ How about that?”
“Hot pictures?”
“I told you. I know when someone’s attractive.” Ryan cut his eyes toward Ben, grinning widely. “I mean, you’re not unfortunate looking or anything yourself.”
“I hate you.”
“You love me.” A pause. “Besides, you gave as good as you got. Pretend I didn’t say it like that.”
Ben’s startled laugh was loud to his own ears. “What are you? Twelve?”
“Sometimes.” Ryan stopped at the stop sign just before their street. “Seriously, talk to him. I mean, that’s worked okay so far, right?”
Ben cleared his throat. “He’s, um, coming over tomorrow night to work on Econ homework.”
Ryan arched an eyebrow. “Oh really.”
“Shut up.”
Ryan pulled into Ben’s driveway and put the car into park. “Are you going to talk to him, then?”
“I think so.”
“What about other stuff?” Ben knew what he was talking about.
“I’m still working on that. I’m going to talk to Mom and Dad before I do anything, though.” That was actually a comforting thought. Another little tangle of anxiety fell away. Huh.
“Good. You need help with all your shit?”
“Nah. I got it. I’ll see you in the morning.” Ben rapped his knuckles against Ryan’s and got out, dragging his bag out of the back.
“Bye, man. Tell Mom and Dad I said hi.”
“You got it.” Ben tapped the roof of the car twice and then walked into the house feeling lighter than he would have thought possible.
Chapter Fifteen
IT HAD BEEN on his mind all the next day, but Ben still didn’t know what he was going to say to Marcus.
He was quiet enough at lunch that Rachel had poked at him until he smiled, laughing at her being ridiculous to cover up her concern. It took a lot to reassure her that nothing was wrong. He felt a weird urge to show her the last set of pictures, a goodnight from Marcus and a good morning from himself, but it seemed like it was too personal. He didn’t know her well enough, though he had a feeling, if things went well, that would change eventually.
It was at Econ where things got interesting, to say the least. It was the first time Ben would see Marcus that day. Ben had been planning to get a ride home with Ryan as usual. But just before class, Marcus found him with another plan.
“Sorry, wanted to catch you before the bell,” Marcus was a little breathless and looked somewhat nervous—a feeling Ben sympathized with. “Um, I was wondering if you wanted to ride to your house with me. On my bike?” Ben’s mouth ran dry.
“I—”
And then Marcus talked over him, babbling in a way that made Ben feel a little bit better. They were both a mess, and that was weirdly comforting. “I mean, if you even want to. I know it’s kind of cold out and not everyone likes to ride them and—”
“It’s fine.” Ben found himself cutting Marcus off and shrugged, acting much cooler than he felt. “It’ll be fun.”
Marcus looked relieved. “Cool! I’ve got an extra helmet stashed in Rachel’s car. Well, and my helmet, too.” Then it seemed like he was trying to make himself stop talking, and Ben tried not to laugh at him. It was kind of cute. “Anyway.”
The bell rang, and they had to take their seats, Ryan quietly grinning at both of them. Between Ryan’s smirks and Marcus’s little grins, Ben was a bundle of nerves.
Which brought him to his current situation—obsessing about riding on the back of a motorcycle. He’d always liked them. In fact, he and Ryan had gone through a short-lived dirt bike phase, so he’d driven one before. Strangely, they didn’t bother him like getting behind the wheel of a car did.
But, climbing on the back of Marcus’s bike, snugging up close behind him? The mere thought was making his palms sweat.
The end of class came, and they all walked out together, heading toward the parking lot. Ryan peeled off first, digging his keys out of his bag. “Talk to you later?” It sounded casual, but it was definitely a check-in.
Ben nodded. “Yeah, man. I’ll text you.”
Ryan waved at both of them and made his way to his car, which was parked closer to the school. Ben and Marcus walked farther, toward the back of the lot, before Marcus’s bike came into view.
“Hold on a second.” Marcus pulled keys out of his messenger bag as they stopped at Rachel’s car and unlocked the trunk. He must have noticed Ben’s confused look because he explained as he took two helmets out of the back. “Sometimes she has to stay after, and it was easier to give me a key instead of worrying that I was having to wait on her. Not that I mind”—he was quick to clarify—”but she didn’t want me to get stuck or anything.”
“She’s a good friend.”
Marcus gave him a small smile as he closed the trunk lid securely. “Yeah, she is.” He handed over one of the helmets to Ben. It was a little scuffed up but otherwise looked perfectly sound. “Sorry, it’s my old one. Rachel wears it sometimes when we go out.”
They stopped next to the bike and Ben put his backpack down next to it. “It looks good.” He laughed nervously. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on a bike, and that was only a dirt bike.”
“I’m sure you’ll do fine. Here, let me—” Marcus’s fingers brushed lightly against Ben’s chin as he helped him with the chinstrap. “There. It looks good.”
They stared at each other for a few seconds before Marcus seemed to shake himself and moved to put his own helmet on. Ben put on his backpack and distracted himself by making sure the straps were tight enough to keep it secure on his back. Marcus swung a leg over the bike, his jacket riding up, and Ben was glad the helmet obscured his flushing cheeks. He moved back when Marcus cranked it and rolled it backward out of the parking space.
“Okay, get on.” Marcus planted his feet to steady the bike, and Ben took a deep breath before climbing on behind him. Marcus had pulled his messenger bag in front of him in a practiced move and waited for Ben to get himself settled.
He gingerly put his hands on Marcus’s waist, gripping him lightly. “Is this okay?”
“Mmm, no. Hang on.” Marcus grabbed his hands and pulled him forward, wrapping Ben’s arms more closely around him and forcing Ben to settle up right against his back. Ben felt like the top of his head might pop off and was glad Marcus couldn’t see him.
“Hold on tight. It’ll be warmer that way, too.” Marcus patted Ben’s hands where they were pressed into his stomach. He was talking loudly over the sound of the engine. “Just lean with me, okay?”
Ben nodded and then realized Marcus couldn’t see him. “Yeah. Okay.”
Marcus squeezed his hands one more time, and Ben thought to look around to see if anyone was watching them. That thought flew out of his head when the bike started to move, and he instinctively tightened his grip on Marcus, people in the parking lot be damned.
THE RIDE WAS either far too short or far too long. Ben couldn’t decide which, after buzzing with the vibration of the engine and being pressed up against Marcus’s back for the past fifteen minutes or so. He slowly let go of Marcus as the engine died and got off the bike on shaky legs, trying his best not to stumble. It was a near thing. He steadied himself before pulling off the helmet and grinning at Marcus. It had been fun. It had been nerve-wracking and exciting and more than a little stimulating as well, but fun was at the top of the list.
Marcus pulled off his own helmet, shaking out his dark-blue hair. It was sweaty and sticking to his forehead, but he had an answering smile on his face. Before Ben could think about it, he reached over and smoothed Marcus’s hair away, letting his fingertips lightly brush the shell of Marcus’s ear. He drew his hand back and looked away, the stupid grin still on his face.
“Fun, huh?”
Ben laughed, heading toward the front porch stairs. “That’s just what I was thinking.” Marcus caught up with him and bumped his shoulder, following.
For a rare few hours, no one would be home. His mom was working late, and his dad was helping out at Beth’s soccer practice. They’d be completely alone. The realization made Ben fumble his key, almost dropping it.
Biscuit met them at the door, meowing loudly. He was so insistent that Ben had to gently move him out of the way. “Don’t mind him; he can probably see the bottom of his bowl and thinks he’s going to starve to death.”
They left the helmets on the bench by the door, and Ben flashed back to the first time Marcus had done that. And how badly it’d ended. Not this time. They were going to talk seriously about what was going on between them if it killed him. Or if he didn’t die of embarrassment.
He heard something behind him and turned around to see Marcus with his arms full of fluffy cat. Biscuit was purring contentedly as Marcus rubbed behind his ears. Marcus caught Ben watching and shrugged, looking a little embarrassed. “I like cats.”
Ben remembered how much Biscuit had liked him the last time, and grabbed his phone to take a picture. “I have to send this to Ryan, he’ll be so jealous.”
He snapped the picture, and the screen showed Marcus with a gentle smile on his face, the dumb cat cuddled up to him. It made his chest clench with something he couldn’t quite define. He sent the text to Ryan and then cleared his throat, stepping forward to run his fingers over Biscuit’s soft fur. “Um, you want something to snack on?”
“Sure.”
Marcus carefully put the cat down, and they both wandered into the kitchen. Marcus leaned against the counter as Ben opened the fridge. It was mostly his fault they didn’t have normal snack foods, but they always had stuff on hand for sandwiches.
He pulled out what he needed. “Ham or turkey?”
“Turkey.” Marcus put his bag down on a chair and started to help, opening cabinets until he found the plates.
They companionably worked together until Biscuit reminded them he was wasting away at their feet.
“Most annoying cat ever.” Ben dumped some kibble in his bowl before picking up his own plate and tilting his head toward the stairs. “Want to work in my room?”
“Sounds good.”
They carried everything upstairs to Ben’s room, and Ben hurried to kick his gear bag into the corner. He’d straightened up a little the night before, but that thing was always in the way. They sat on the floor, plates on their laps, and ate in silence.
After the empty plates were stacked on the dresser and their books were spread out in front of them, Ben found himself waiting for something to happen. He glanced at Marcus, who was flipping through his textbook, hand reaching up unconsciously to swipe his hair out of his face. He wanted to do it for him. Ben must have been staring, because Marcus looked up and caught his eye.
“What?” His lips quirked up in an unsure smile. “Do I have something on my face?”
Ben shook his head. “No.” It was now or never. He took a deep breath and jumped. “Look, we’re friends, right?”
Marcus blinked at him, book forgotten in his hands. “Yes?”
He’d already kicked off his boots, so he was sitting cross-legged, leaning against the side of Ben’s bed. It was almost the exact same spot where they’d kissed for the first time. Ben pushed that from his mind and gathered his courage.
“Is that all we are?” Ben saw Marcus’s mouth drop open and hurried to get out what he needed to say. “I mean, I know what you said, and what I said, and what I thought we both thought.” He looked down at his hands, suddenly wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. “But, now I’m not sure.”
Marcus closed the book and put it aside. “What—”
“We talk all the time. And I like talking to you.” Ben was rambling. “But I’ve—” He stopped. He’d already told Marcus this p
art, but he was going to have to say it again. “Maybe it’s just a dumb crush, I don’t know.” He let out a harsh laugh. “I’m kind of a mess. You know?”
Ben jumped a little when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He couldn’t look, not right then, not if everything was about to go up in flames.
“We’re all messes,” Marcus said quietly. He didn’t take his hand away. “And I’m sorry.”
That was the rejection Ben had been dreading. He’d said too much, misread what all those texts meant, and now he wouldn’t have Marcus as a friend. “It’s okay. I understand.”
“You understand?”
Ben still couldn’t look at him. “That you don’t, I mean—” He broke off with a huff. “I’m still not out to my team.”
“Right?” Marcus sounded confused. “I know you’re afraid of messing that up.”
“Yes, but—”
“But nothing.” Marcus knee-walked closer to Ben and made him look him in the eye. “I know what I said. And maybe—” He chewed on his bottom lip, and Ben couldn’t help but stare helplessly before looking back into his eyes. “Maybe, I wasn’t being very, um, I don’t know, fair.” Marcus sat back on his heels and scrubbed a hand over his face. “God, Rachel was right.”
“About what?” Ben was doing his best to put on a brave face, but he was feeling more and more like he’d missed something.
“I’m an idiot.”
Ben managed a laugh around the disappointment that had risen in his chest. “That does sound like something she would say.”
Marcus scooted over to sit next to Ben, their shoulders touching. “I was wrong.” He leaned into Ben’s side, his head almost resting on his shoulder. Marcus’s hand crept into his, and Ben’s breath caught in his throat.
“What were you wrong about?” His voice was hoarse, but he needed everything spelled out. It was too important. Silence. “Marcus? Please.” He cleared his throat. “What do you mean?”
“You know I really like you too,” Marcus said at last, as his thumb drew small circles on the back of Ben’s hand. “I meant what I said before. I don’t want to be a secret, but—”
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