“Greg Summers,” Callum said eventually. “He had my back in…” He trailed off and gritted his teeth.
“In?”
“Juvie.” Callum hunched his shoulders.
“I think that’s a story for another time,” Dylan said. “Right now, tell me about Greg Summers.”
“He was a year or two older than me. He made sure no one beat the crap out of me and let me follow him around like a little lost lamb. I was in awe of him and idolised him. But I don’t think I fancied him.”
He couldn’t be sure about that. It would be too easy to look back on his memories of Greg through a filter that either supported, or denied, his current confusion. He wasn’t going to do either.
“How did your parents react, when you told them you were gay?” he asked.
“They were cool about it,” Dylan said. His voice was light and breezy, but there was a sad lilt to it which made Callum suspect he was once again being lied to.
Once again, he let it go. It didn’t matter how Dylan’s parents had reacted, all that mattered was how his own family would react. It was nice to think that Dylan’s family were completely accepting of him. If that was the truth Dylan wanted him to believe, then he would.
“Still confused?” Dylan asked.
“Very.”
Callum didn’t know what to think or feel. Was getting a hard on while watching an attractive guy lick cream off his lips really an indicator that he was bisexual? Had he fancied Greg? Had he just been denying any sign that he wasn’t straight out of fear?
“How am I supposed to know for sure?” He raked his hand through his hair. “Christ, I probably sound like a homophobic dick just for worrying about it.”
“You don’t,” Dylan said. “You’re allowed to be confused.”
“Thanks for this. I didn’t expect that talking to you would be so easy.”
Dylan’s lips parted. “It is?”
“Yeah. I know we had a rocky start—”
“Because I was a jerk,” Dylan cut in.
Callum ignored his self-deprecating comment. “But this has been great, so, thank you.”
Dylan rested his chin on his hands. “Great enough to tell me why you were in juvie?”
Callum bowed his head. “I stole a car and went for a joy ride. I’m not proud of it. I didn’t hurt anyone,” he added quickly. “Thank God.” Cautiously, he raised his eyes so he could look at Dylan. “You can walk away now. I wouldn’t blame you.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Dylan said softly. This time, he did put his hand over Callum’s. “One day, you’re going to tell mewhyyou did that, but not today.” He squeezed Callum’s hand. “Thanks for trusting me.”
Callum met Dylan’s gaze. “Maybe one day you’ll trust me too,” he whispered. He made himself smile, but it was a fleeting gesture. It was odd that he wanted to find out what secrets Dylan was keeping.
Dylan stared into his eyes. “Maybe. One day.”
“That sounds like the start of a song.”
“Huh. Maybe I should take up song writing.” He winked at Callum. “Or maybe not. I can’t sing,” he said in a stage whisper.
Callum chuckled. “Nor can I.”
“You can’t dance, sing,orpull a pint? Darling, whatcanyou do?”
Steal. Let people down. Be a crap son and brother. Callum stared at his half-drunk coffee.
“Oh, shit, I didn’t mean to offend you. It was a joke. Like I said yesterday, I don’t know when to shut up.”
