in Dallas. I told my parents I’d spend the summer with them. You?”
“Going to see my dad out at the ranch. I work with him during the summer. But if I make first string, I’ll be back at school in three weeks. If not… I’ll be back in August.”
“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…”
What would his teammates say, if any of them knew? What would Colton—his friend, his quarterback—say? They were closer than brothers sometimes, especially in the middle of the season, when he knew how to read every twitch of Colton’s body, every glimmer in his gaze. The half second of eye contact before the snap, and the other half second, when they met each other through a dozen linemen and Colton let loose on the pass, and Wes was there to receive it. They’d made promises in those glances, vows that ran as deep as their blood. Give me the ball. I’ll get the yards. I’ll get the down. I’ll get the points. Or I’ll block. I’ll pick up the extra from the limping lineman. I’ll keep the sack from getting to you.
I’ve got you.
What would Colton think if he knew Wes was making love to Justin? If he knew that Wes was gay? How fast would he recoil? How far would he pull back?
How could they ever share those half seconds again if Colton decided he couldn’t trust Wes? Trust was an all-or-nothing thing, Wes had found. He trusted the linemen to protect Colton, to open the holes for his rushing or his passing route. If he couldn’t trust one of the linemen, the quarter, even the half, could go down the drain. Colton trusted Wes. That’s why they were called the nation’s best duo, why newspapers called them the next Brady-Gronkowski duo. They were magic on the field. Unbeatable. Unstoppable.
Unless Colton found out the truth, and that trust, that bond, shattered.
“I can’t come out while I’m on the team. I can’t upset the dynamics.”
“Is that fair to you?”
“It doesn’t matter if it is. I’m part of the team. I choose to play. If I don’t want to, I can quit.” Well, not really, because then he’d lose his scholarship and every dream of his future. Justin would hardly fall for a college dropout with no prospects. No, he knew where his bread was buttered and how he had to play the game. Literally. “While I’m on the team, who I am isn’t important. I’m part of a bigger whole. And I’m okay with that.”
At least, he had been. Before he’d met Justin. Before he’d known what it was to be with a man, to know and to crave what had only been a formless desire.
“You’re saying if we keep this up, we’ll have to hide?”
He nodded. “I have to hide, yes.” For now, at least. Maybe only two more years. His throat clenched hard, and he tried to clear it, tried to push past the sudden blockage. “If that’s not what you want, I understand. You’re a lot braver than me and you don’t hide anything—”
“I’m not brave. I’m stubborn. I didn’t come out to my parents because I was proud or because I was trying to make a statement. I came out because I was sick of their fantasies about my future. Who knows, maybe I would have been a good lawyer, or a good VP of whatever sales, but I’ll never know. That’s stubborn. Maybe stupid. Not brave.”
“I think you’re brave. It doesn’t matter why you wanted to come out. You did. That’s more than I’ve been able to do.”
“Till here, at least.” Justin’s smile was sad. “How does it feel? Being out, here?”
“Awesome,” Wes breathed instantly. “Like a dream. I’ve imagined holding hands with a guy so many times. Walking down the street with him, kissing him in public. I didn’t know if it would ever happen. I didn’t know if I could find a guy who wanted me like that.”
“Why do you say that? Why do you think no one would want you? Have you looked