by A. J. Truman
“Shut the fuck up, man, or we’ll do it all over again!”
That was Sahil, watching guard over Preston. He nodded at Ethan in solidarity, before glancing away, letting them have this private moment.
Ethan held his hands over Greg’s. He wanted to feel them. He needed to. He needed to believe this moment was real. Greg massaged his hands, a simple, tender gesture that Ethan realized he was doing without worry in front of his frat brother. Greg kissed his hand.
“Stay with me, Folly.”
“I will.”
Φ
The ambulance and police came a few minutes later. Preston pressed charges against Greg and Sahil for beating the shit out of him, while Ethan pressed charges against Preston for attacking him. Greg had that worry-free smirk on his face.
“He messed with the wrong Con Law students,” he said.
Ethan had a mild concussion. They gave him some Tylenol and a washcloth to wrap around his head.
“Will I have permanent brain damage?” Ethan asked the paramedic as his hopes for a Supreme Court nomination potentially vanished.
“No. You should be fine. I suggest somebody stay with you for the next twenty-four hours to make sure the symptoms don’t worsen.”
“I’ll do it.” Greg stepped forward without a hint of hesitation. His brave smile couldn’t hide the worry lines creasing his forehead.
The paramedics did a few more checks on him. Greg was at his side the whole time, finding ways to touch him. Stroking his hand and his cheek and his thigh. Unlike Preston, these gestures were simple and sweet and came without a “I want to bone you” sinister undercurrent.
“How did you know I was here?” Ethan asked him.
“I saw you in your section, cheering and going nuts. Who knew Folly had so much school spirit? When I saw you talking to that guy during halftime, I won’t lie. A part of me was a little jealous.”
“More than a little jealous,” Sahil said. “The guy stared at the field like he wanted to tear it apart with his bare hands.”
“I couldn’t concentrate on the game. I hadn’t seen you in weeks, and then I see you with that asshole. Once the game started back up, I didn’t see you in your section. I tried to let it go, but I couldn’t. I had to talk to you, so we went back to the concession stand, but you were gone. Then Sahil heard you scream, and I raced over, and…”
Greg clenched his jaw shut. The memory burned him as much as it did Ethan.
“He wanted to be like us,” Ethan said.
“Too bad. There’s only one us, and it’s us.”
They both realized what they’d just said, and an awkward moment passed between them. Ethan then noticed Sahil was still there.
“Wait. Sahil…you know…” Ethan didn’t know how to put it into words.
“I used my powers of deduction.” Sahil elbowed Greg in the ribs. “Once you guys stopped seeing each other, Greg changed. He got angry and moody and became a total buzzkill.”
“That’s an exaggeration,” Greg chimed in.
“Barely. Anyway, we were having fun at the tailgate. Then Greg saw you at the game and talking to that guy, and he entered buzzkill-mode again. He had this pissed-off, gonna-cut-somebody grimace on. Yes, grimace,” he added before Greg could cut him off again. Ethan liked watching Greg be the brunt of someone else’s jokes for a change. “I told him that if he liked you, he needed to win you back. And finally he grew a pair and did something about it.”
Greg nodded, confirming the whole story. Today was full of surprises for Ethan.
“So you’re cool with Greg…”
Greg held up a hand to stop him. “Sahil, Senor Douchebag.” Greg laughed, but then got serious as he forced himself to pull out the words. “I’m gay.”
“Yeah, Rainbow!”
The three of them mashed palms together in a janky high-five. A lump formed in Ethan’s throat. It was a silly gesture, but it meant so much to him. There was no better feeling than to be completely accepted for who you were.
A little while later, Greg told Sahil that he could go back inside and watch the final quarter of the game. No need to feel guilty. He had it covered.
“Just remember, Ethan,” Sahil said. “If he gives you any shit, send him to me.”
He swaggered back to his seat and promised to tell Lorna all about what happened.
The paramedics left soon after. It was Greg and Ethan together, but not alone. Ambulances always brought out the rubberneckers. People stopped on the way to the bathroom to get a look at what had happened. What they saw was one boy caring for another.
The onlookers didn’t seem to faze Greg. He helped Ethan to his feet and kept his arm around him to keep him steady. The outside world still seemed a little blurry to Ethan, but he knew as long as he had Greg beside him, he would be okay. They walked down the ramp, taking each step slowly. Soon, Ethan forgot that people were gawking at his gimpy, bandaged self. He had Greg at his side; everyone else had it rough.
Thick gray clouds swirled in the sky. Ethan shielded himself from the daylight.
“How are you doing?” Greg asked him.
“Better. I think.”
“I’ll make sure of it.” He sounded determined, with anger tinting his words. He held Ethan close to make sure nobody pushed through them. “This is my fault that this happened to you.”
“What? No, it’s not.”
“I’m sorry I freaked out on you when Sahil caught us. I wasn’t thinking. Or I was thinking, but my thoughts were mainly, ‘Oh shit.’”
“I get it. Coming out isn’t easy.”
“But I shouldn’t have pushed you away. You’re kinda the best thing that’s happened to me, Folly.” Greg slipped his fingers through Ethan’s, and his heart nearly burst. Greg had never been this earnest. It was slightly unnerving to see, but Ethan knew he would happily get used to it.
They ambled through the parking lot, kicking past empty beer cans and assorted trash. Ethan savored this moment and framed it in his mind.
“Greg, we’re still holding hands.”
“I know.”
Greg’s car sat next to his frat’s tailgate. The tent ruffled in the breeze, and remnants of an aborted beer pong game remained frozen on the table. Ethan hoped he could attend a tailgate with Greg. His boyfriend? Were they official now? Ethan stopped worrying about labels. He had Greg. Greg had him. The rest would work itself out.
Like a gentleman, Greg opened the door for him. Before Ethan got in, he pecked Greg on the lips.
“Uh, nope,” Greg said. That smirk was back, Ethan’s old friend.
“Nope?”
“What kind of a kiss was that?” Greg pulled Ethan in and smacked their lips together. The earth stopped moving for those seconds. Ethan turned off his brain and just felt. Felt this moment, this guy. He would analyze how things changed later. But for now, he kissed back.
epilogue
“Okay. On the count of three: Lick. Take. Suck. You ready? One…two…three!”
It still stung when Ethan downed tequila. He would never fully get used to the burning in his throat and the expanding pit of nausea that formed in his stomach. Maybe that was for the best. If he liked alcohol too much, that could be problematic.
None of his drinking buddies seemed to be a fan of tequila either. Greg and Lorna pinched their faces into tight little balls as they sucked on the lime. Ethan wondered if he looked as ridiculous making the same expression.
“Dude, what kind of shit is this? This is not the good shit,” Greg said, flicking the puffy ball of his Santa hat out of his eyes. He tossed his spent lime wedge into the trash.
“It’s just as good,” Sahil said. He shifted his eyes at the bar. Nobody believed him for a second. Greg charged to the booze stash and pulled out a clear bottle with a sticker of a big-breasted Mexican woman stuck to it.
“Cumshaka? What the fuck is that?”
Sahil pretended to act all sophisticated. “Well, sir, it’s a brand of alcohol distilled in the ‘I spent like crazy this semest
er and my bank account is hovering around zero, bitch!’ region.”
“Tough life you have,” Lorna said. “Guess you’ll just have to resort to selling your body for money.”
“Now who would ever pay for that?” Ethan asked.
Sahil sidled up to Greg and swung his leg onto his lap. “Your boyfriend doesn’t seem to mind.”
Greg threw his leg off just as quickly. Lorna fell into Ethan’s chest from laughing as cheesy Christmas songs blared on the stereo.
Ethan loved this—plain and simple. Ever since the incident at the football stadium, Greg had begun the coming out process. He told a few of his brothers, and they seemed to take it well. Ethan waited for reports from the frat trenches, and so far, Greg hadn’t come to him with any bruises or horror stories. The guys were supportive, if a little freaked out at the thought of gay sex happening in their house. Greg had been surprised at the outcome.
“They’re your brothers for a reason,” Ethan had told him. “Not just because you all pay dues.”
Even Greg’s parents were mildly cool with his gayness. He’d told his parents about his teaching aspirations and dating Ethan in the same phone call, figuring the shock of being gay would dull the pain about not going to law school. He was wrong. His dad was more pissed about his career change than his sexuality change. Mostly because he really liked Ethan. Justice Sanderson could at least still talk shop with one of the boys on future visits. His mother regaled Ethan with a tale about catching Greg in her high heels when he was four. He had never seen Greg’s face get so red.
Families were fun.
People close to Greg kept surprising him. Ethan reminded him that not everybody was as transparent as he assumed.
“I am feeling sufficiently buzzed,” Lorna said. She wiped the remnants of the shot off her lips and sipped on the Sex on the Beach Sahil had made for her. “Let’s rejoin the festivities downstairs.”
“Why don’t we just start our own party right here?” Sahil shuffled his hips to the music, getting closer to Lorna. He managed to turn “Deck the Halls” into a Barry White jam.
“Because I need a dance floor!” Lorna grooved out the door.
Ethan hoped that they would get together. He saw the look in Sahil’s eyes when they flirted like this. To Lorna, it was all fun. Not so for Sahil. Ethan caught a spark between them, a charged energy. Lorna insisted that they’d only had drunken hookups and she was happy being friends. We’ll see.
Lorna and Sahil danced through the hall to the staircase with Ethan and Greg as their soberer companions. They made their way into the mash of coeds on the first floor. The flashing red and green lights by the DJ booth called out to them. Ethan had invited Jessica, Dave, and Anna tonight, but they’d politely declined. They all had gone out for dinner last week, and Ethan considered it a mild success. No fights, no backhanded comments about the Greek system, no awkward silences, but also no insta-friend breakthroughs. While Ethan had wished that all his friends could be friends with each other and form this friend soup he could swim in, he was fine floating between groups. He preferred floating to chaining himself to one social circle.
The music raged on, and Ethan’s hips could not refrain from swaying. Greg grabbed his button-down shirt and pulled him into his chest. There was no other place Ethan wanted to be. He breathed in Greg’s scent, felt his fingers close in around his waist. They grinded to the music, their bodies moving as one to the beat. This time, Ethan was in the center of the dance floor, part of the action. No more wallflower life for him. Greg leaned down and kissed him, and Ethan tasted bits of lime on his tongue.
Greg’s stare penetrated through every layer he had on, giving Ethan chills. How does he do this? How can he make me forget that we’re in the middle of a crowded room? When you care about someone so much, they can make the world around you disappear.
Everyone could see them. Uninformed frat brothers and other partygoers rubbernecked at their lovefest. The looks made Ethan shrivel up. He took back what he’d thought. He didn’t like being center of attention. He tried to pull away, but Greg held him there.
“Everyone can see us,” Ethan said.
Greg lifted an eyebrow and smirked. “And they’re all jealous.”
Ethan shot him a curious look. “Since when did you become so invincible?”
“Since I met you.”
Their bodies rubbed closely against each other. Greg’s hands traveled along Ethan’s sides, heat radiating from his firm touch.
Ethan lost himself in the music. Until Greg’s hand brought him back to reality.
It brushed against Ethan’s crotch, getting him hard instantly. His fingers lingered by his zipper. Ethan’s breath caught in his throat.
“So what do you want for Christmas, Folly?”
Lust swirled through Ethan. He ran his hand down Greg’s backside and grabbed his ass. Greg seemed impressed, but Ethan wasn’t done. His hands traveled to Greg’s bulge, stroking the hardness over his jeans. (Yes, jeans. Ethan had insisted he not wear those warm-up pants to a holiday party. Because standards.)
“Oh, just some gift cards.”
Greg worked to keep his cool. Their grinding intensified as he pulled their bodies closer. Ethan was tempted to reach inside Greg’s jeans and grab his real Christmas present.
“You know, my room is only one floor away,” he whispered into Ethan’s ear. That trademark smirk crept up Greg’s face. Ethan would never get tired of it.
“Oh, Greg. Bedrooms are so boring. They’re not us.” Ethan shot back his own devious grin. His ravenous self—his fresher self—pounded at the door, demanding to be let in. “Isn’t there a study room behind the kitchen?”
THE END
Look for the next book in the Browerton University series early 2015.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Epilogue