couldn’t he shake it already?—he might’ve given Neil a shot. Or at least told him about his sexuality.
That night he and Rhys made dinner together—with Rhys on vegetable-chopping duty—and they made such a good team that Emerson couldn’t help wondering… Fuck. He’d made such a concerted effort not to go there, which wasn’t easy, especially since he felt Rhys staring at him a little too long when he thought Emerson wouldn’t notice. Then at the dinner table, he felt under Audrey’s scrutiny too, though he couldn’t be sure if it was about Rhys or their conversation about Kevin.
Later, once she’d gotten herself to bed, she motioned him closer in the room. “Maddy dared me to ask Kevin for his phone number so we could talk about the art project over the weekend,” she said in a dreamy voice.
“And?”
“And I did and he said yes!” She giggled like it was the best thing in the world, and he loved seeing her so light and happy.
“So, what does this mean?” he asked, trying so hard not to step into parenting mode but failing miserably, if her eye roll was any indication.
“That we’ll text each other?” she responded in a sarcastic tone, and he could feel her pulling away.
“Awesome,” he replied, then shut off the light, already ticking through a list of worries where that situation was concerned. It’s only a phone number.
He headed downstairs, where Rhys was waiting on the couch with the remote in his hand.
“Are we okay?” Rhys asked as soon as he sat down, his eyes full of worry.
“I think so… But you tell me.”
Rhys briefly searched for something in Emerson’s eyes—maybe a flicker of the person he’d always known—before he nodded. “I’m sorry if I’m acting strange. I’m just trying to get used to stuff.”
“That’s the going theme around here,” Emerson replied with a smirk.
He sighed. “Too true.”
They settled into a new Netflix show—well, new to Rhys, but he’d never tell, because it felt just like old times as they shared the blanket, with their knees touching and warmth enveloping them.
Halfway through the first episode, Rhys turned to him. “Em?”
“Yeah?”
“Audrey told me you were asked to another game.” Emerson held his breath. They must’ve discussed it before he got home. “I think you should go. I’ll hold down the fort around here.”
Emerson didn’t immediately respond, and tension thickened and swirled around them.
“We’ll see,” he finally replied, and noticed Rhys letting out a quick breath.
They turned toward the screen, probably sitting closer than two friends normally would. But this was them—Em and Rhys—their shoulders flush, their skin warm and tingling, just the way Emerson liked.
19
Rhys
The playoff game was on a Saturday afternoon, and according to Neil, who had stepped inside to greet them again, it was a best-of-five series, with the last three matchups farther away, at the opponents’ stadium. So the opportunity to attend the first two games was pretty awesome.
And as Rhys told him exactly that, Neil had given Rhys the once-over—no way to dispute it—then yet again had placed his hand on the small of Emerson’s back on the landing, which made Rhys’s fist clench.
Emerson seemed excited about the game but also sort of edgy as he ushered Neil out the door, throwing Audrey a warning look as she pouted at the kitchen island.
He wasn’t sure why Audrey was acting so cranky, unless she also suspected their outing was a date. And if that was true, then Audrey also knew about Emerson’s sexuality. Still, Neil seemed like a nice enough guy, so Rhys wasn’t sure why she was holding a grudge against him.
Unless she feared that Emerson dating someone would mean less family time? But if she knew anything about her brother, it was that he was loyal and dependable and would no doubt give up a relationship in a heartbeat if there was even the hint of an ultimatum.
Now Rhys felt even more guilty about that bubble of jealousy that had surfaced when Emerson greeted Neil at the door, wearing tight jeans, the same Rockets sweatshirt—no doubt because of superstition—and with his shiny auburn hair styled away from his forehead, which only made it seem like he’d put in more effort. The guy was too handsome for his own good.
Rhys’s feelings for his best friend had obviously transformed since the accident. It was probably all the togetherness, but he was viewing Emerson in a new light. And it was killing him, especially now that he knew about his sexuality. The attraction he’d long buried in