Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Ugh.” Declan made a sour face that mirrored my own.
“Have you thought about telling your dad?” I asked gently.
“About us?” Declan visibly recoiled. “I also enjoy my life. He’d be pissed I’m messing with his best friend.”
“It’s cute you think he’d be more protective of me than you.” I chuckled, but the mere thought of Sean’s reaction made my skin cold and clammy. “And I meant more in general. You know he’d be supportive regardless if you’re gay or bi or—”
“I don’t know what I am.” Declan gave me a stony glare as I finally found a spot close to the bar, and I tossed that stare right back.
“No clue at all?”
“Well, clearly.” Gaze dropping to my mouth, he huffed a loud breath. “And there’s no point in telling my dad I’m…not straight when I can’t tell anyone else.”
“Support is a good thing.” Not wanting to let his resistance rile me up, I tried for a measured tone. “And coming out doesn’t have to be all or nothing. I had a number of years where Eric, your dad, and a few others knew, but not everyone—”
“Including your first wife?” Declan’s words were as sharp as his icicle-cold eyes.
“Including her.” Not snapping back was hard, but I didn’t take the bait. “I was young. Younger than you. And stupider. People make mistakes.”
“Yeah.” His shoulders slumped, much of his fight receding. “Sorry. That was a low jab.”
“It’s okay,” I said even though it wasn’t, not really. Declan had poked an old, never-quite-healed hurt. “And I’m saying, learn from my errors in judgment. I thought if I squished myself into a closet and bolted the door, life would be easier. I was so wrong. You don’t have to make yourself fit in someone else’s box or cut yourself off from people who love you.”
“I don’t want to fight about this.” Declan rubbed his temples. “Not tonight.”
“You okay?” Turning in my seat, I leaned closer to examine his pained expression. “We don’t have to go to the karaoke thing if you have a headache.”
“You look more tired than me, and you’re going.” He pushed open his car door, letting in a gust of cold air. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”
I followed him out of the car. Nothing was fine, not even close, but I had no choice but to go pretend.
Chapter Sixteen
Declan
“Looks like Eric saved us a table.” Jonas pointed to the back wall as we entered the old brick bank that had been turned into a bar and grill. A massive oak bar took up much of the front area, with wooden booths and tables along the sides and rear of the space. Low lighting, exposed brick, and period details set a cozy vibe. A small stage was set up in the back left corner, opposite the bank of tables Eric had claimed.
“Looks like.” My voice was stiff because I was still smarting from the fight I’d picked in the car. I’d done it to myself, but that didn’t stop me from wishing I could grab Jonas’s hand and run far, far away from here.
“Are we okay?” Jonas asked in a low voice as we approached Eric.
“We’re cool.” There wasn’t time to say anything else. Like that I was sorry for arguing and even more sorry that I couldn’t see a path forward where I could come out and still race and not have every eyeball in motocross on me.
The worst part was that, for the first time in my life, I was surrounded daily by the benefits of coming out. My dad and Denver’s happiness. Their friend Tony had an adorable boyfriend a little older than me who spent most of his time wrapped around Tony. Somehow, Tony was a high school football coach and making it work, but I wasn’t sure the easy acceptance he’d found would happen anywhere else. Being around this many same-sex couples had me wanting things like my idea of escaping into Portland for a few hours. To go somewhere I wasn’t likely to be recognized and just…be.
But Jonas had a shift, which shouldn’t have irritated me, and my idea was silly anyway. Every day was a step closer to getting back on the track and away from this little pit stop in queer heaven.
“You guys made it.” Eric stood to help me with my crutches and directed me into an end seat so I was less likely to jostle my leg. He was such a dad, always looking out for people, but unfortunately, the end chair meant staring into the bright lights around the stage area. I didn’t say anything though. I was so sick of my light sensitivity and headaches being a thing, and I hadn’t been joking about Jonas looking in worse shape.
Jonas was in office attire with his usual neatly trimmed beard, but he had a decidedly rumpled and exhausted aura with paler skin and darker circles under his eyes. I had the unfamiliar urge to take care of him. I wasn’t a cook, but I wanted to feed him, hold him, something to make him feel better. I glanced at the empty seat next to me, silently urging Jonas to sit there, but Eric apparently had other plans.