“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” Isla kisses me on the cheek, then sits across from me. “You looked deep in thought.”
“I was thinking about Hunter.”
She cocks a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “As if that’s anything new.”
“I know.” I groan. “It’s fucking ridiculous. I don’t even know if he’s been to a queer bar.”
“He’s an out bisexual man who lives in LA. How can henot have been to a queer bar?” She seems honestly confused.
“It’s different for him, in his world. At least, I think it is. I don’t know if I could ever see Hunter coming here, or if he’s even had someone to come with.”
“Ellis wouldn’t have?”
It’s a valid question, one I have no answer for, except maybe a hunch. “I don’t think so. He wouldn’t have considered it his scene.”
“We should bring Hunter out, then.” Isla shrugs as if it’s really that easy.
I lower my voice. “Yes, because a professional football player at a queer bar in WeHo wouldn’t draw attention. Oh, and the fact that he’s with the brother of his dead boyfriend, the brother his family hates.”
Her eyes soften, and she takes my hand. “Your family doesn’t hate you. They just don’t understand you. And your dad is the world’s biggest dick, so fuck him.”
I can’t help but grin. God, I love her. I wish Hunter could meet her.
“So…how are things going with your little tight end?”
“He’s a running back,” I counter.
“I wasn’t talking about his position, babe. I looked up photos of him. He’s definitely your tight end.”
We both dissolve into laughter. It’s exactly what I need. I love my time with Hunter, but it’s mostly spent locked up in his house, and even when we’re having fun together, there’s always a heaviness to what we’re doing because I know it will end.
The waiter returns with our drinks.
“Thank you. This is perfect,” Isla tells me. We order food, and when it’s just the two of us again, she asks, “How is it really going?”
I can’t stop the smile splitting my face as I think aboutthis morning, about the photos on my camera, and the trust Hunter gave me.
“He’s a great fuck.”
“Which is the least important thing you care about. Don’t be stupid. You know you can always be real with me.”
She’s right, but old habits die hard.
“Sometimes it feels perfect. It’s more than I ever thought I’d have with him. More than I deserve. But…fuck, Isla. There’s always this cloud hanging over me. I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for him to change his mind, get tired of this, for my father to find out and remind Hunter all the reasons he shouldn’t be with me. Hunt’s like Ellis. Neither of them ever wanted to let him down.”
She frowns. “You never wanted to let him down either. You just wanted to be yourself. He’s the one who let you down by not supporting his son simply because you didn’t come out as a mini him.”
My neck prickles uncomfortably. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Okay, then we’ll talk about the fact that if that’s the case, if Hunter walks away from you because of your father, then he never deserved you in the first place. You’re fucking incredible, Lucas, and I wish you’d see that. I’ll tear into anyone who doesn’t see it, including the secret love of your life. Don’t let him or anyone else make you think you’re less than you are.” She reaches over the table and takes my hand again.
Isla’s been through so much, but she’s never let that stop her from being who she is, never stopped her from being the kindest person I know.
“Thanks, Isla. I love you, ya know?”
She smiles. “I know, babe. I love you too.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
