“And when we’re at school? Does this”—Justin waved his champagne glass in a circle between them—“continue? Or is it a summertime-in-Paris kind of thing?” Wes gnawed on the corner of his lip. Swans mate for life. “I want it to continue,” he said. His voice was like thunder, rumbling his own chest. Shaking his own bones. “I don’t want to stop. But do you want—” “I do,” Justin said quickly. “I really, really do. But you’re not out, and you’re on the football team…”
