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While I may get violent with Huckslee because I’m forced to, the thought of anyone else touching him pisses me off. He’s mine to torment. No one else’s.
That black hole in me opens wider, threatening to tear me apart because Huck had fucking tried. That day at the wedding, when he’d sat with me. Showing me the track, trying to hang out with me, to be fucking nice to me, but I was a selfish asshole, unable to let something go that happened when we were kids.
So I clear my throat and say, “I want to see you.”
“I just...” My voice trails off as a slight shock rolls through me, the look in his eyes unnerving my system. Their depths are empty and lifeless as they bore into mine. I’ve never seen him look so cold before.
He’s standing there staring at me as if I’m a wild animal poised to strike, and that’s when I know that he thinks I’m going to start a fight.
Because I want to show him, for some insane fucking reason, that my touch isn’t always painful.
“But I want to talk to you, and you don’t trust me right now. So we’re going to Delaware.”
Then, the motherfucker knocks on my door, shakes me to my core by grabbing my hand with a tenderness I didn’t know he even possessed,
“Shut the fuck up, Huckslee,” he growls, cutting off my words. Before I can process what’s happening, he’s spinning me around and crushing his mouth to mine.
“I’m not my father,” he snarls, whirling away as he starts to pace, “and I’m not a homophobe. I have nothing against gay people.” “Just me, then?”
“Yeah. So I pretended to hate you even though I didn’t. And I guess, over the years, it just kind of became easier to lie to myself, too. Because I...we couldn’t be anything. We can’t be anything. To each other.”
“God, I’m so fucking stupid.” I laugh humorlessly as I turn on my heel, heading back toward the house. “Despite all the shit you’ve done to me, I pined after you for years. Years. You really couldn’t care less about anyone but yourself, Taylor.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “Beautiful.” But I’m not talking about Salem.
Taylor’s eyes take in Royce, he freezes. There’s a moment where something like pain crosses his features before it morphs into pure, unadulterated rage.
After a long moment, his forehead smooths out, and he nods slowly. “Ah, I see. You love him, too.”
I’d been so blinded by rage, by jealousy at his lips on someone else and the fucking scholarship, that I hurt him in the worst way possible. Worse than anything I’ve ever done.
“After winning the race, Mr. Huckslee informed us that he already had a scholarship and that he wished to transfer this one to someone else. That someone else, namely, being you.”
Images come to mind that help calm my nerves: summer rains, bunny rabbit feet, a pair of dark brown eyes, and the smell of chlorine.
Huckslee Davis, jersey number twenty, currently in his fourth and final season playing for the California Golden Bears at CU Berkeley.
“Congrats, Huck,” I whisper, low enough for only myself to hear.
He looks...ecstatic. Elated. It’s a look I never got to see with him, and I drink it down like the alcoholic I am, needing my fix.
I hope life got better when he moved in with his grandparents out there, and I hope he’s been able to find peace. Because he deserves it. After everything, he deserves good things.
Nothing sucks more for an alcoholic who can’t drink than watching other people slurp liquor down like it’s water,
Because watching it live means that I know where he is and what he’s doing for once. I’m living the moment with him in real-time. And I know that he’s breathing.
His social media pages all showcase the star athlete-who’s openly gay by the way- surrounded by friends and teammates, surfing in the ocean, and having dinner with his grandparents or boyfriend. My jaw clenches.
It gets closer, and I twist slightly to look over my shoulder, only to have my heart drop into my stomach when I see who’s riding toward me.
praying to whatever powers that be for him to stay where he is and let me go.
Over the last four years, they’ve never asked about anyone I’ve dated. Not once. I’d mention a boyfriend over the phone or when they’d fly out to visit, but they’d usually either ignore it or change the subject.
“Just as we did last year,” Christian continues, “ten percent of the proceeds we’ve made this week are being donated to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, so from the bottom of our hearts, thank you.”
“Got a little too kinky in the bedroom, you know?” The woman at his side laughs, eyeing him like a full meal, while the truck driver shakes his head. “Well, throw out your safe word next time or something cuz that looks rough, buddy.”
“Right before school ended in the eighth grade, I kissed Huckslee under the bleachers in PE. And he kissed me back. I was so fucking happy that I fucked up—I was babbling about him at home, about how fun I thought he was, and how I couldn’t wait to spend every day over the summer racing with him. Of
“Look, Tay, I think you’re focusing on all the wrong shit here. You were jealous, so you opened a curtain. He was jealous, so he hit you. Those things are kind of far apart on the fucked up scale.”
Fuck, even sad, he’s adorable. Makes me want to make him hot chocolate and shit. Tuck a blanket around him. Sit on his face.
“it’s not fair that Huck’s allowed, but you’re not. If I’d have known-”
i don't like her
My chest tightens painfully, and I drop my gaze to the floor, fingers in my free hand curling. He doesn’t want Huck to spiral again. And he’s worried my presence will set him off. I am such a piece of fucking shit.
“I didn’t get a choice in coming out, so why should he?”
Because not only does he deserve closure, but so do I, dammit. I fucking deserve closure.
YOU BITCH ASS NIGGA
God, I want to feel him. To taste his lips again and feel his cock pulse in my hands, explore his body properly with my tongue. But I can’t start down that road without talking to him about prom. I just can’t. It doesn’t feel right.
“Shit.” Releasing one of his arms, I run trembling fingers through my hair. “I’m sorry, Huck, I shouldn’t have put it that way. I didn’t think.” “You never do.” His dark eyes burn like coals as he glares up at me. “You don’t care about anyone or anything else other than yourself and your bike, Taylor.”
This is Taylor fucking Tottman, and I’m supposed to hate him. Because he’s an asshole. And selfish. And the cute, charming act he’s got on right now is just that; an act.
It’s a new sketchbook, so there isn’t a lot in it yet, but a slight sound comes out of Taylor’s throat that has me whipping my head toward him. I go very still when I see what he’s studying with wide eyes. Shit. I forgot that was in there. Motherfuck. “This is my bike?” Taylor taps the page with a finger, lips parted as he brings it closer to his face. He’s almost enraptured, completely awed, and sweat starts to bead on my neck. The
Hot cum pours down my throat. “Now you know what it’s like to drown.”
“Look at you,” Huckslee muses, that cruel smile on his lips, “a fucking mess. Now you know what I felt like that night at prom, lying on the bathroom floor, broken and alone.”
His eyes narrow as he jerks his head in Taylor’s direction. “You’re still in love with him.”
“He used to beat the shit out of you, call you names, totaled your car, and then outed you to your dad and everyone after you gave him your scholarship.” Royce sips his beer slowly, studying me. “I’m not one to judge, Huckslee, but that’s...wow.”
“So, because he hasn’t hit you in a long time, does it mean he gets a free pass for what he did at prom? I’m not trying to get into your business, Huck, but the guy is clearly not good for you.”
He freezes, and I notice for the first time that his hat is gone, and his dark hair is messy as if someone’s fingers have been running through it. He looks flushed, lips a bit swollen, and as my gaze tracks down his body, I find his belt buckle undone. When my eyes meet his again, a spark of guilt swims in them.
“Huckslee, I’ve been in love with you since the eighth grade.”
All I can say is I joined every sport you did because I wanted to be close to you.”
I just...knew. That I loved you. But then four months passed with no contact, you started dating Royce, and it felt like my heart had ripped in two.”
