Thanks to him. Again, he’s the one who stepped in to stand up for me, and guilt creeps through my body.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry you got caught up in this,” I say. “None of this should have happened.”
Ian swivels his head at me, his eyes wide. “You’re right that this shouldn’t have happened, but it was on your parents to not act like idiots.” He pauses, placing his hand on mine. “I did what I had to in the moment to keep you safe.”
“It wasn’t your responsibility?—”
“Stop, Callum.” Gripping my hand tighter and sending sparks flying up my arm and into my stomach, he chuckles. “I’ve never been in a relationship before you, but helping you is what I signed up for. It’s what I do. That means I get to love you, and my god, I love you to fucking bits.”
“Stop it, you’re gonna make me cry,” I say, chuckling to try distracting myself from the tears pricking my eyes.
“My shoulder’s free if you need it, because I’m not done. I’ll never be done loving you, Callum. You make that impossible. I said it last week to my team, and I'll say it to you now—I’d take a bullet for you.”
That does it for me. I shut my eyes, letting tears spill out of the sides and run down my face. I haven’t cried like this in years, not since I confirmed to myself that I was gay in the dark hours of the morning when I was fourteen. Back then, I was resigned and terrified, not knowing what was laid out for me.
Back then, I was already petrified of anything sexual, with lust being the ultimate sin in my family. I thought I’d automatically catch some horrible illness if I so much as touched someone else with any kind of intention. Add being gay on top of that, I couldn’t see a difference between life and death, because to me, both looked like hell.
How wrong I was—crying still yanks at my heart, tightening my chest and making me choke on every other breath I take, but now, I’m going through that with a smile.
Ian isn’t the one who pulled me out of my dark spiral and onto a better path—that was me, and the constant decision to get better is still on me to make. If anything, he’s grounding. He’s stable.He’s a walking, talking, living personification of kindness, and he makes it so clear that I deserve that.
He tells me constantly, and I’m starting to believe it—I deserve what he gives me.
“I love you so much,” I croak out, wiping my face with the front of my hand. “You’re the best.”
He wraps around me, holding tight. “I’m only trying to be good for you.”
“You’re…you’re more than the guy I imagined when I was younger. I was stretching my reality at the seams just to think about being withsomeone, and I didn’t know anyone as good as you even existed in real life.”
“Okay, you’re going to make me cry now, so fuck you,” he says, snickering. “We’re ridiculous, aren’t we?”
I nod, returning his choked-up laughter.
Adrenaline is a wild thing. Case in point: it has us making tearful, emotional confessions under the harsh fluorescent lighting of a deserted college athletic facility, huddled together beneath a police blanket.
Love exists and persists, no matter the environment.
Our tender moment is breached abruptly with the arrival of a different police officer, who’s carrying a stack of papers. She slows her pace as she gets closer—I guess seeing two guys crying gives her some pause.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I have an update…” she says, stopping a few steps away from us.
“That’s fine. We were just waiting for one,” Ian replies.
“Okay,” she continues. “It’s getting late, and the students we spoke to all informed us that the elder Crosses instigated this afternoon’s events.”
Ian and I nod.
“You’ll both need to send us written statements within five days.” She hands two thin stacks of paper to us. “This contains details on where to send your statements, as well as how toproceed. I’m here if you have any questions, but otherwise, you’re free to go.”
“Thank you,” Ian says. He turns to me, eyes soft, and I purse my lips.
“I don’t have any questions,” I supply.
“Of course.” The officer clasps her hands. “There’s contact information in the dossier if that changes.” Giving us a quick, polite nod, she backs away and leaves the building.
Ian stands up and extends an arm. “Home?”
“Please. I want to go home.”
