were broadcast, so the Google alerts filled him in on the score and Wes’s plays. Had he woken up to an alert about his son hiding his gay love affair? And then read all about the destruction Wes had left in the wake of his choices?
Would he even have a home to go back to?
“I’ll come with you,” Justin said. He tugged Wes’s hands, pushed himself more firmly against Wes’s body. “I’m not giving up on us just because you don’t have a scholarship or you have to go back to West Texas. I’m coming with you, wherever you go.”
“Justin—”
“We said this was for life, right?”
Wes dropped his eyes to Justin’s lips. Failure soaked his bones. Was he going to pull Justin down with him? “Are you sure—”
“Don’t even finish that question. Don’t you dare ask me if I’m sure I want to be with you. Nothing has changed how much I love you.”
He kissed Justin, squeezing his hands until his arms shook. He didn’t deserve Justin’s love. It wasn’t fair to uproot him because of Wes’s failure and shame. It wasn’t fair, but he wasn’t strong enough to tell Justin no. He needed Justin, now more than ever. He’d thought he could have it all, but he was wrong.
But as long as he had Justin, that was what truly mattered.
“Go tonight,” he said, nuzzling Justin’s cheek. “I’ll be okay.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded. “I’ll wait here.”
They’d fled to the Holiday Inn on the highway. Justin had booked them a first-floor room near the back entrance, and Wes pulled his truck around and parked behind the dumpster.
Justin’s dad had been calling. Wes had seen the string of texts before Justin turned off his phone. We need to talk, Justin. Pick up your phone. Call me back. Justin, please talk to me.
They kissed for another twenty minutes before Justin climbed out of bed to get ready. Wes hovered as Justin washed his face and tied back his hair. Suddenly he wasn’t so sure about being alone. He’d been brave a few minutes ago. Now he felt like a scared little boy who desperately wanted Justin to stay. “When will you be back?”
“My shift ends at midnight.” Justin poked at his eyes. It was clear he’d been crying for hours.
He was still so breathtakingly beautiful to Wes.
“Okay.” Six hours. He could last six hours. With nothing but his thoughts and his memories, and his teammates’ words rattling around in his skull. Their hatred, so sudden, so searing. He closed his eyes. Exhaled.
“I’ll text you every moment I can.”
He kissed Justin and then walked him to the hotel room’s door. They’d have to figure out next steps soon. Where would Wes live after today? He couldn’t stay in a hotel for three weeks, until finals. He didn’t have that kind of money. Would he move in with Justin? Live across the street from the guys who hated him? And after finals, then what?
Questions for later. He squeezed Justin’s hand and held the door for him, then watched him walk away. Justin walked backward, holding Wes’s gaze all the way to the back door. Wes tried to smile. Justin blew him a kiss.
And then he was alone.
But not alone. Colton’s voice echoed inside him. You lied to us! Three years, Wes. Art’s voice joined in, layered on top. That’s not how it works! Orlando, too. Are you fucking happy?
I’m not your fucking friend anymore.
How could you possibly do anything worse than what you’ve already fucking done?
His heart jackhammered. His chest ached, his lungs seizing every time he tried to breathe. He paced, his hands fisting in front of him over and over. The only thing louder than his teammates’ words was the roar of his own blood, the pounding of his heartbeat.
He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.
ESPN came on at full volume, and Wes went rigid, unable to shut it off. His smiling face was splashed across the screen, his NCAA promotional shot. The picture changed, and there was his team, collapsing on the field. Colton getting sacked, over and over. Passes being intercepted. Wes running his passing route. Turning too slow, his footwork sloppy. Colton ignored him and tried to shovel the ball to Orlando. A moment later, Wes was creamed from behind.
Like that, fag? I’m going to destroy you.
The sportscaster kept up a running commentary, incredulity straining his voice. “What a stunning collapse today. An absolute blowout by Mississippi against Texas, who were visibly rocked by the publication of an