Tate still didn’t ask questions after Donovan passed him the thermos of hot chocolate and the baggie full of marshmallows that his mother had prepared at his request. She’d had a knowing smile when he told her he couldn’t stay, then she passed him two disposable coffee cups and told him good luck.
It wasn’t until Donovan was steering the truck into the small alcove at the lake’s edge that Tate finally said, “What are we doin’ here?”
“Come on,” he told him, grabbing the thermos, the marshmallows, and the two paper cups.
If he’d planned this, he would’ve brought a blanket with him, but it was a spur-of-the-moment thing, and it was a wonder he’d thought to get the hot chocolate, so they would have to settle for sitting on the tailgate. He pressed the button on the key fob to lower the tailgate and waited for Tate to join him.
“What is this place?” Tate asked as he hopped up onto the tailgate.
“Where I like to come to think things through.”
“Do you come here a lot?”
Donovan passed him one of the paper cups and then opened the thermos. “I used to. Not so much anymore.”
“Because you don’t need to think things through?”
He chuckled as he poured the hot chocolate into Tate’s cup. “I still think things through, but there’s little time to slow down. I want to. Ineedto, but I rarely do.” Donovan held the baggy up for him. “Marshmallows?”
Tate took the bag. “Thanks.”
“The only people who know I come here are my mom and Reilly,” Donovan explained as he poured more chocolate into his cup.
“Why’d you bring me?” Tate asked, sipping from his cup as the steam rose.
“Because I wanted to make our first date memorable.”
He saw Tate flinch with surprise. “First date?”
“The diner’s nice and all,” he teased, “but you deserve better.”
“I like the diner, sweetie,” Tate said, then grunted. “Sorry. Habit.”
Donovan chuckled as he stared out at the water that glittered in the moonlight. “The first time I came out here was the night you came to live with my parents and Reilly.”
He could feel Tate’s eyes on him.
“After our conversation, I was so angry,” Donovan continued because he wanted to share this story with Tate. “I was livid that your mother did what she did. That she even had the ability to dampen the fire inside you.”
“She didn’t,” Tate countered.
“She did,” Donovan argued. “On a certain level. You’re still you, yes. Your fire still burns bright and hot, but she tried to put it out, and I was furious with her for that. I came here that night, trying to figure out exactly what I was going to say to her when I went to her house.”
Tate gasped softly.
Donovan glanced at him. “I didn’t go. I wanted to. My mother found me here and talked me out of it.” He looked back at the water and gripped his cup with both hands. “Told me there are people in this world who see others as broken. They’re the ones who are truly broken, and words’ll never fix them. She told me that the only thing we can do is live our lives to the fullest, and those who’ve decided to become spectators would hopefully feel the loss when they’re standin’ on the sidelines.
“It took me a while to get past what she did,” Donovan continued. “I’ve been out here a couple dozen times since then. Like I said, I come here to think.” He cut his gaze to Tate again. “The last time I came here was back in January. I’d stopped by my parents’ house to chat. You and Reilly were there. I saw y’all through the window. The four of you laughing about something. I didn’t go in. I should have, but something stopped me from opening the front door. I came here instead.”
Tate took a sip, and Donovan could tell he was listening.
“Reilly must’ve seen me because she followed me here. We sat just like this, staring out at the water while she pretended she wasn’t freezin’ her ass off.” He chuckled at the memory. “She wanted to tell me somethin’, and it took her a minute to get to the point. You know how she is.”
Tate laughed. “Oh, I know. What did she need to tell you?”
Donovan sighed and smiled. “She told me she saw the way I was lookin’ at you. That she was on to my game.” He dropped his chin, but the grin remained. “It’s never been a game, but I never intended to act on my attraction. It felt … wrong.”
“Wrong?”
