Hostile

by Nicole Dykes

But my eyes eventually land where they always do. On the boy with sandy-blond hair and piercing green eyes. He’s thin and kind of lanky, a few inches shorter than me and a hell of a lot smaller in frame. But he exudes attitude and has a “fuck off” vibe I can’t bring myself to ignore.

Everything but the actual truth. A truth I’ve hidden for years. A truth that burns deep in my soul, but no one expects because I’m the all-American golden boy who has everything. The big house. The private school education. A fantastic throwing arm. Top grades. Good looks. Large, muscular body. Everything. And I must just be a gentleman. That’s why I don’t flaunt my hookups, or no one has ever heard of me hooking up with any of the girls at school. Or I must have a lover who I keep secret. All the rumors. Everything but the actual truth . . . I’m gay.

There’s no denying my insane attraction to this painfully elusive, beautiful boy. And no part of me wants to fight it.

I’m too forward with him. I know that. Normally, I’m cool and detached. People drift toward me, but that’s not going to happen with Rhett. I have to be the aggressor. The one who makes every move, and something about that lights me on fire. I feel challenged around him. Something I haven’t felt in a really, really long time, if ever.

“It’s the perfect contrast, Rhett. Both are beautiful in their own way. Both bold and strong. His choice of colors and your fearless framing. Just breathtaking.”

Feeling my body light up, every nerve coming alive inside me. And that’s exactly what he’s done to me. He brought me to life.

“Hey, Rhett?” “Yeah?” I barely breathe the one word between us as I lean in, my nose grazing his. “Can we practice the kissing part of being ‘friends who maybe kiss’ now?” I feel a smile take over my lips as they brush over his but only briefly. “Yes.”

Please don’t kick me out, Rhett. I don’t know if my heart could take it.

“I want to be here. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be.” He’s telling me he’s not going to push me away in his own words. In his own way. Because that’s how Rhett is. And goddamn it, I believe him.

Free. I feel free in this moment.

Because when he does that and kisses me like this, I can trick myself into believing I belong to him.

I didn’t know it was my job to make him smile until I met him. Now I know. This is my destiny. Making my grumpy guy smile.

“Rhett, I have known you were meant to be my son since the day Bree brought you home. We wanted you. You are wanted, and you are loved.”

I’m not making sense as I start to sob, letting it all out. Years and years of repression, of living my life according to what they wanted. Of never allowing myself to be me. “It’s not worth it.”

I smile at him, kissing his full lips and not having a care in the world because Rhett loves me too. We’ll figure everything else out.

Our age doesn’t matter. His parents don’t matter. When it’s love, and when it’s real, you just have to go for it.

Because when you’re offered love, even if you don’t trust it at first—when they show you over and over again they love you, you just have to accept it.