He’s right there. He likes guys. I don’t know if he likes me. We’re so different. He’s calm and quiet, and I’m an overly intense ball of unwelcome affection. We can’t?—
“We can’t stay here for much longer,” I murmur. “It’s a little cold.” Breaking the unspoken intensity between us is an act of protection. Letting myself fall into liking Callum, when he lives with me out of necessity, would be plain wrong. “Can we head back home?”
He peers off into the distance, twisting his mouth up in a way that says he’s clearly conflicted about something, and I can’t imagine what that might be.
“There’s something else,” he says, cutting my thoughts off. “I need to tell you before I can go back.”
Ominous, much?I shove my hands into my pockets. “For sure. I’m here for you.”
He shuts his eyes, drawing in a shaky breath. “Please don't hate me.”
His voice is barely audible, but those words still hit me. How could I ever hate someone like him?
“Callum, I won't be mad. There's no way you could do anything that would make me angry, I promise.”
Okay, if he secretly peeked through the bathroom keyhole and watched me take a dump or something, I'd be a little disturbed, but I'm almost certain he hasn't done that.
That’s weird. Why did I think that?
Stupid intrusive thoughts.
He purses his lips and lets out a long sigh, which makes my nerves ratchet up a little more. “I…” He sighs again. “I started liking you.”
What—
My heart stops.
Callum likes me back.
Callum.
He’s sweet and hot and amazing andhe likes me back.
And he was afraid I’d hate him because of that?
“Hey.” I reach up and put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him and to steady myself. “Buddy. Do you know how hard it was to avoid crushing on you?”
He manages to be even more silent than before. He stands there, head tilted, lips parted, and seemingly dumbfounded.
“Do you have anything to say about that?” I prod.
“You'd have a crush on me?”
I bark out a dry laugh, unease sinking in my gut as I fight the fading voice of self-preservation in my head. “Dude, I'm way past the point of ‘would.’ Now that I know you’re also into guys, there’s nothing stopping me.”
He furrows his eyebrows. “But you're…you.”
I scoff. “And you'reyou.” Okay, Ithinkhe's genuinely confused, but I can't wrap my head around how Callum has the self-esteem of a pinecone. “Like, are you fishing for compliments or something? If you are, then you can drop the act because I compliment people I'm into so much that it's weird.”
“I'm not.” He nudges a rock with his boot, stopping short of kicking it. “I’ve only been here for two months, and I’m still so farfrom fitting in. I’m still the weird transfer kid from the Midwest who doesn’t know how to talk.”
Jesus fuck. He was so nervous about this before, and to hear that he’s still feeling down about being new? I think my heart splinters for him. No, scratch that. Itshatters.
“You aren’t weird. Seriously, you’re the furthest thing from it.”
“Then why does everyone else on this campus give me weird looks all the time?”
Wait. “What kind of weird looks?”
