“Okay, Hunter, you’re up. Ask someone.”
I get the focus back to the game so Ollie doesn’t feel so awkward. Not that I know how he’s feeling, but I don’t wanthim to have all the attention on him. He’s never been comfortable with it.
“Brooks. Truth or dare.”
“Truth.”
There’s a gleam in Hunter’s eyes as he flits his gaze from me to Brooks. The way the corner of his mouth ticks up into a small smile tells me I am not going to like what he asks.
Which makes me nervous.
Hunter leans across the table, glass in hand as he takes a sip before setting his drink down and pointing at Brooks.
“Have you ever been interested in a man before?”
“Hunter!” I admonish him. “Really?”
“What?” He shrugs. “It’s an innocent enough question.”
“Down, Charlie,” Brooks tells me, resting a hand on my forearm that sits on the table. “I’m a big boy. I can answer.”
“Then give us your answer,” Hunter prods him.
“Yes.”
“You have to answer,” I tell Brooks, sipping on my own drink.
Brooks looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “That was my answer.”
I choke over my drink, coughing and trying not to spit it out over everyone sitting at the table. “I’m sorry, what?”
The music of the bar echoes in my ears. The flashing lights blur together and the alcohol in my stomach sours.
Brooks was interested in a man?
I’m going to be sick.
“I think this needs details,” Griffin tells us. “I’m kind of surprised by this. Because had I known you liked men, I might’ve tried something.”
“Wait, what?” This time, my head spins to Griffin. He was interested in Brooks? What is going on tonight? Have I entered an alternate universe?
“What?” Griffin shrugs. “Brooks is hot. I think we can all admit that.”
The man in question blushes and ignores him. “It was my freshman year roommate.”
Andrew? Aaron? I don’t even remember his name.
“We got drunk one night and ended up making out,” Brooks starts. “I don’t know if it was a college thing, but we fooled around a few times. I didn’t really get to explore that side of me because right before I came home for Thanksgiving, I met Delia.”
I remember that holiday well. All Brooks could talk about was Delia.
Delia this. Delia that. Delia, Delia, Delia.
FuckingDelia.
I hated it. It was the first time he was ever serious about anyone. I remember putting on a happy face when he talked about it, but I cried when we both went back to school.
Reaching across the table, I grab my own shot. And then another.
