“That’s like Romeo and Juliet, right?” Wes squinted.
“Yeah.” Justin scrunched up his face. “Is there any epic love story that isn’t tragic?”
“Ours.” Wes smiled. “It’s not gonna be tragic. It’s gonna be epic.”
Justin rolled his eyes, but he smiled. “There you go, cowboy. Being romantic again.”
“What can I say? You bring it out of me.”
“Mm-hmm.” Justin kept smiling, like he’d never stop. “We could stand out here all night like this.”
“I know.”
“I should go.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“I know.”
They stood there, leaning against Wes’s truck, staring into each other’s eyes. They could hear laughter on Opal, conversations drifting out of backyards on Twenty-Ninth. Engines humming up and down the cross streets. Birds twittering in the leafy branches overhead.
“Can I walk you to class in the morning?” Wes asked.
“Of course. When do you have practice?”
“Now that school’s started, we practice in the afternoons. Two until six. I have to be there early, and I stay late after. All my classes are in the morning. Other than that, all the rest of my time is yours.”
“Want to meet for lunch tomorrow? In the dining hall?”
“Yes.” And the next day, and the next day, if Wes had his way. Every day. Always.
They stood there grinning, staring at each other, neither one moving. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.” Justin took a step away—
Wes checked up and down the block. Saw no one. He closed the distance between them and caged Justin between his body and his truck, his palms flat on the tailgate as he brought their bodies together. It was only one second, one moment, but Justin was in his arms, and he brushed his cheek before dropping a lightning-fast kiss on Justin’s lips.
He shoved off the tailgate and backed away. If he didn’t put distance between them, he might not care about the team or his scholarship much longer. He might throw it all away, just to feel Justin’s lips on his again.
“Night, cowboy,” Justin said softly. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Sleep well,” Wes said. “Sweet dreams.”
“They’ll be of you.”
Wes floated into his house, barely aware of the world around him. There was foosball going in the den, the TV blared Madden, and someone was cooking in the kitchen. He heard his friends talking, laughing. The floors overhead creaked, bodies moving. Someone flushed a toilet. He drifted up the stairs, light as a feather, and wandered into his bedroom. He didn’t even bother to shut his door. He fell backward onto his bed and stared at the ceiling, his cheeks aching from smiling so wide.
His Paris tableau tickled the corner of his gaze, and he turned on his side and studied the pictures he’d printed, mentally drawing himself and Justin into each one. Instead of agony, joy spun through him, soaked his veins and his muscles and shot straight to his heart.
His cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out.
Miss you already, cowboy.
He grinned. Bit down on his lip. Texted back. Same.
I don’t miss you enough to wear that jersey though. I put it straight in the wash.
Wes laughed. You could probably have given it to Rajas. She’d take it to the biochem lab for sure.
You know, there might have been new lifeforms on it. Too bad we’ll never know. Whatever you grew in your armpits is being sterilized away.
I can give you another.
Oh, honey. I love you, but please. One gift of a sweaty jersey is enough for a lifetime.
He couldn’t stop smiling. I love you too.
Three little dots danced and then stopped. Danced and then stopped. Wes waited.
I didn’t tell you this earlier, but I signed up for a ballet class this semester. I needed another credit on my schedule, soooo… Intro to Ballet was available. I signed up because of you.
You’re amazing when you dance.
I’m not amazing all the time?
You are. I mean, you’re an amazing dancer. You’re so good. You were doing those spin things, from Swan Lake, in your solo.
Wow. You really did pay attention in Paris.
Of course I did. It’s important to you so it’s important to me.
Oh, cowboy. You don’t know what you do to my heart.
The same thing you do to mine. <3
Anyway. There’s a performance scheduled. It’s not important, I mean, it’s intro to ballet, so it’s like, basically the nursery school version of dance. But it’s in six weeks. I mean, if you wanted to come. I’m just letting you know.
He pulled up his calendar and put it in, typing “<3 ballet perform.”