I shift in discomfort. “Beau…” I trail off, not sure what else to say.
“Fuck. Sorry.” He moves his gaze back to the lake.
I scramble for a way to make this less awkward. “We can’t go there” is what I come up with.
Beau cocks his head. “Remind me again why not? Because as I recall, we’ve already gone there before.”
“Almost four years ago,” I point out. I can’t stop a laugh now. “You waited four years to ask for a repeat?”
“I mean, I thought I made it pretty obvious I would’ve been down for a repeat any time,” he says wryly.
I swallow a rush of unhappiness. I did get that feeling sometimes, but I always ignored it, hoping it would go away. Not because I couldn’t see myself going there with Beau—we might’ve been good together, actually. But that’s the problem. I think deep down I knew that choosing Beau would mean he’d try to get deep with me, and I wasn’t ready to be seen back then.
I’m ready now.
But maybe the only reason I am is because ofwhois seeing me.
“You’re thinking too hard,” Beau accuses, sighing.
“I know.”
“Why can’t we go there, B?” he pushes.
I gnaw on the inside of my cheek, ignoring the sting of pain. “I’m sort of seeing someone.”
“Who?” he says in surprise.
“Not someone I’m ready to introduce to the family yet,” I lie. “It’s still early.” I hesitate, because I don’t want this hanging over us, unresolved, if I’m single in the future. “But even if he wasn’t in the picture, this still wouldn’t be a good idea. You and I.”
Hurt shadows his eyes. “Why not? Because you’re a year older than me?”
“No, I don’t care about that. I care about our friendship. You’re one of my best friends. I would never want to lose that.”
“Hooking up doesn’t mean we’d lose it.”
“Hooking up always means you lose it.”
My own words suddenly echo in my head, evoking a pang of concern. Because if that sentiment is true, what if getting involved with Wyatt just cursed us to a lifetime of awkwardness? Our families will always be friends. That means he’ll always be in my life, for better or worse.
Which is an even better reason not to add Beau into the mix.
Chapter 36
WYATT
MY DAD IS ONE OF the best people I know. I think that’s why the idea of disappointing him has always filled me with crippling anxiety. My whole life, I tried so hard to love hockey the wayheloves hockey, but it’s just not it for me. Never has been. And that has created a disconnect between us.
The worst part? I’mgoodat hockey. Naturally athletic. If I sucked, at least Dad would’ve been relieved I wasn’t out there embarrassing myself on the ice. Unfortunately, I’m talented enough that if I’d put in the work, I probably could’ve gone pro. I played in high school mostly just to make him happy.
But music is what called to me. By the end of tenth grade, I finally told him I was quitting the team. And because he’s a good dad, he didn’t freak out. Didn’t try to talk me out of it. He simply said I needed to follow my own path. I should’ve taken that as proof he supported me, but there was always—and still is—that niggling doubt. That fear I’ve let him down. It’s in the back of my mind nearly every time we’re together.
This morning, we’re working out in the basement gym, Dad spotting me as I lie on the weight bench, lifting heavier than I usually do.
“Damn,” he says with a whistle. “Didn’t realize you were going so hard this summer.”
“I mean, there’s not much else to do.”
My summer routine has been pretty consistent. Write music, swim, nap, work out, fuck Blake. Repeat.
