“No.”
If my heart was a banjo, that melancholy smile would be a rough set of fingers plucking every string.
His voice is sweet and femme, a big contrast to his basic-boy look. “West Virginia is beautiful if you know where to go. If you know where to look.”
“And do you? Know where to look?”
“Yeah. The forests and the rivers are kinda magical.”
Ah, jeez. Hiswistfulnessis going to be the death of me.
“Then why leave?”
“I don't belong there.” He’s looking down at his clasped hands, but his soft voice is resolute. Sad.
I’d gotten a sense that he isn’t straight from the way he talks, and the checking out of my ass is a distinct indication of his queerness. But that line. That one heartbreaking line right there settles it.
“Or you could do like I did. Fuck trying to belong and just be a stubborn asshole until they’re forced to accept you.”
Chapter3
Knox
Did I just hear him right?
I whip my head up, looking into his eyes. He smiles, pointing out the rainbow sticker on the corner of his ancient laptop. Dread and hope collide in my chest. I think of the things I learned in Houston and set my jaw.
“So, is that how you think we’re gonna work this out, or whatever?” I ask, edging toward the door as my hands curl into fists. “That I’m just gonna fall on my knees for you?”
His dark brows damn near meet in the middle and his mouth opens in shock. “No. I do not…no. Why would you think that? I’mgay, not perverted. I’m sorry if I read you wrong, but—”
I hold up my hands to interrupt that train of thought then cover my face with them. “Sorry, sorry. Sorry. No. I—sorry. Houston wasnot great,and there was a guy who thought buying me a drink entitled him towhatever. I’m not gonna…I can’t do that. Trade physical stuff for…things.”
God, I remain as inarticulate as I am pathetic.
Carter is a rough sketch of a man, all dark features, thick hair, and sharp brows. His coveralls and steel-toed boots average out his medium build, only revealing his power in the way the rolled-up sleeves hug his veiny forearms. My words, however jumbled, have a physical effect on him. He squares up, concern visible in the tick of his sharp jaw.
The effect nearly takes me out at the knees. Everything about him is commanding but settled, somehow. He curves his hands just outside of my arms, like a set of parentheses, as if he’s trying to comfort me without touching me. It kinda works.
“Hey. Look at me. Are you…are youhurt?” he asks, softening his voice.
My eyes meet his again, and his concern feels genuine. Protective. My grin is wry as I assure him. “He got rough, but I broke his nose. Then a short guy with a pink gun scared him away before he could retaliate.”
Carter’s severe expression breaks and white teeth against his tan skin steal my focus. His laugh is deep. Genuine. “Welcome to Texas, where everyone, including—no, especially—the twinks are packing.”
In more ways than one.
The worry and stress of the last few days fall away, and I find myself joining him in laughter. “Fuck, sorry.”
He holds up a hand. “No more apologies. I know that must’ve been scary, and while I’m about to offer my couch to you, please understand it’s because I want you to still be able to go to college and not because I’m trying to get into your pants.”
I let out a big breath of air, relieved and a little tired. God, I’ve been so pathetic. My parents tried to prepare me for the world as they knew it, but maybe they didn’t understand how limited their scope was. I sure as hell didn’t.
Also, now that he’s not trying to get into my pants, I wouldn’t mind seeing him naked. It’s weird how that works.
“Thank you. I don’t have many other options, so thank you.”
Just as he’s about to say something else, his cell phone rings. He picks it up, and his face immediately goes serious again. I’m not sure which of his expressions I like more. There’s something about him that just feels…manly. Masculine. More or less the opposite of me.
