More time alone with my best friend.
More reasons to get him in my room with the door closed.
More stolen kisses when nobody was watching.
More of whatever this was that had been growing between us for several months and had become a lot harder to ignore since we’d gone further than ever before.
I’d catch myself thinking about Keaton at the worst times too. Like at jiu-jitsu practice, trying to focus on a hold, then my partner and I would end up in mount, and my brain wouldbetray me. The teammate would be on top of me when Coach Pete would tell me to get out of it, but all I could think about was Keaton in the same position, pinning me down, his body on top of mine. It made me miss moves I should’ve been able to do without thinking. Instead, I’d realize too late, and already be behind in the drill, because the second somebody had me flat on the mat my mind went straight to the boy next door.
Wanting more of Keaton was one thing. Thinking about what would happen when summer ended was another.
We spent most of junior year sneaking around, stealing kisses when nobody was looking, then acting like we didn’t know each other around our own group of friends. But after everything that happened over the summer, I wasn’t sure how we were supposed to slide back into that once school started again. As my mind went to senior year, to graduation, to leaving, and whether my future could still include him, my eyes kept drifting to a folder on my desk.
Joining the Air Force had been the plan for as long as I could remember, so that part wasn’t new. With my dad, there wasn’t any other option. He’d been talking to me about enlisting after high school for years, and I’d always figured I would follow in his footsteps in some way or another. What was new was how real it felt now.
That morning, Dad took me to meet with a recruiter, and ever since we’d gotten home, the folder on my desk had been making me feel off. Seeing everything laid out in front of me—the paperwork, the timelines, the actual steps instead of just idle talk—made it a lot harder to ignore how soon everything was going to change.
I was still looking at the folder when Keaton barged into my room without knocking and flopped onto my bed like he lived there. His gaze shifted from the desk to me, then he narrowed his eyes. “You’ve got that look.”
I leaned back in my chair. “What look?”
“The one you get when you’re overthinking.”
Despite myself, I nearly smiled. “For a guy who just walked into my room without knocking, you seem awfully cheerful.”
“Your mom let me in as she and your dad were leaving,” he replied, stretching out across my bed. “That counts as an invitation.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“It does in this house. I’m basically their second son.”
I snorted, but my attention drifted back to the desk before I could stop it.
Keaton noticed immediately and pushed himself up onto his elbows. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re such a liar.”
“I’m serious.”
He got to his feet and crossed the room. “What’s that?”
“Nothing.”
“Rowan.” That was the problem with Keaton. He knew me better than anyone and always saw right through me.
I ran my hand over my jaw. “It’s Air Force stuff, okay?”
His expression shifted immediately. Not significantly. He wasn’t overly dramatic like that. But I also knew him well enough not to miss it.
“You talked to a recruiter already?”
“This morning.”
Something tight settled in his face, and I hated that I was the reason it was there. “And you were just going to sit there and not mention it?”
“I was getting there.”
