Casey
“I wonder what your brother would think,” I asked Russell, then jerked my head toward Blake, “with the three of us hitting up a gay bar on a Saturday night.”
Russell blinked at me for a minute, then broke out with a laugh. “I take it he was awkward when you came out, too?”
“I’ve never seen someone try so hard to act like he wasn’t awkward,” I laughed.
After burgers at the local joint, the three of us were walking to the gay club. My cheeks were cold, and we were all walking fast, but I didn’t mind the weather.
Hanging out with the two of them was fun and easy, too. Sometimes, I thought Blake would resign himself to a life of solitude and work, if I weren’t there to drag him out of the house and make sure he had some fun on the weekends. It was one of the reasons I had so much trouble moving on from the guy, actually.
I made him smile, and that had to count for something.
But I hadn’t realized we’d have such a good time with Russell, too. With a little encouragement from me and Blake, he’d started to relax and joke around and show more of his personality. Russell almost glowed when he smiled, and it warmed me when these happy, excited lights bounced around his gaze.
Walking down the street, I could practically feel Blake warming to him, too. Anyone who made Blake smile like that was good in my book.
“Peyton was never an ass about me being bi, though,” I clarified to Russell. “If he were my brother, I’d want to know that. He just acted like a weirdo for a couple weeks, kept awkwardly telling me he was excited and supportive, and then finally chilled out and went back to normal.”
Russell laughed. “Yeah, about the same with me, actually. At least he’s having plenty of time to get used to it, with Colton coming out, too.”
The oldest Young brother had already moved off to college when I moved in with the family during high school. I’d never clocked him as being gay, but I was so deep in the closet and consumed with my own mess back then, I missed a lot of things.
Being desperately, secretly in love with one of your best friends had a way of doing that to you.
Thank god I got over that eventually…
“Here we are,” Blake said, rubbing his cold hands together as we walked up to the club.
“This guy didn’t have a problem,” I told Russell, then messed up the hair on top of Blake’s head. “Totally chill and supportive when his best friend came out. And did you know he spends all day rubbing the naked bodies of professional athletes?”
Blake rolled his eyes and pulled the door open. “Your idea of my job is a lot more pornographic than the reality.”
Pop music washed over me as we walked in. It was early enough that the place wasn’t crowded, and the lights were still up in the front. Blake gathered our jackets to bring to coat check, and I slipped off to get a round of drinks at the bar. When I returned, I found them both sitting at a table in the back, with Blake leaning forward slightly as he listened to Russell talk about something.
My nerves twitched, and it felt like all my senses became hypersensitive at the same time. I kept looking at them like that. They both had steady, even expressions, like the conversation had turned serious, but then Russell’s face opened in a smile, and Blake’s perma-scowl lightened as he chuckled.
Fuck, they looked good when they were both laughing together. More emotions swirled up, complicated ones that I couldn’t deal with right then, but that made my stomach tight.
I dropped the drinks on the table and pulled up a chair, shaking the sensation away.
“Russell just reminded me,” Blake told me as he took his beer. “You’re the only reason I tried out for the football team freshman year of high school.”
I pushed my hair back, and my black leather bracelet fell down my arm. “What? I don’t remember that.”
“Peyton wanted to join the team, but he was scared to try out,” Russell reminded me. “So you convinced Blake to try out, too, and keep him company.”
“Oh yeah,” I laughed as the memory came back. “I didn’t want to do it myself, so recruiting Blake was my only option.”
Blake nodded. “You fucking hate football.”
“I fucking hate football,” I agreed, and Blake and Russell both laughed.
As I remembered it, though, I had wanted to help Blake out, too. The guy wasn’t a natural social butterfly, and I knew he needed something to get him out and talking to people who weren’t me and Peyton.
I didn’t expect that he would turn out to be some kind of amazing natural talent and star athlete, or that he’d make a career working in sports medicine, but it made me a little giddy to suddenly realize I’d had a hand in that.
Maybe I was good for the guy, beyond just getting him to have fun sometimes.
