“I’m sure it looks great,” Lane said, just the barest amount of sarcasm. Barely detectable, but Trevor still heard it. Trevor couldn’t miss it. Not now, anyway.
And that, really, Trevor realized, was something they’d been doing for awhile now. Sharing in these little inside jokes, teasing their parents about their PDA, about his dad’s tee time and Delia’s various hobbies. It had always been good, to think of he and Lane as being on the same side, but now it was for certain,immutable. Maybe they’d never been brothers, but they were something better, now.
Trevor felt a wave of longing to tell their parentsnow. To say, with wonder and excitement,look at what we’ve found. Look at what we’re building. Isn’t it great? I’m so fucking happy, and can’t you see how Lane’s glowing now? Looking easier and freer than you’ve ever seen him?
But they’d agreed to wait until Lane was ready, and Trevor wasn’t going to do anything to screw that up.
Tom sighed. “No faith from my own sons,” he complained.
And while itwasgood that their parents had never pushed the brother angle, not once, at least never around Trevor, he did love hearing that his dad considered Lane a son, just the same as Trevor. He felt zero jealousy about it, only relief and happiness that Lane might have a share of his dad—who while absolute shit at tile, was really great at a lot of other things.
And even Lane didn’t tense up then. He only smiled. Slung an arm around Tom and leaned in. Like helikedthat.
“I have faith you would be really great at hiring a contractor,” Lane said, grinning.
There’d always been flashes of this. Tantalizing glimpses of possibility. But it had never lasted. Now Trevor knew why, and he knew, hehopedanyway, that would change now. Because Lane was being honest with himself. Being honest with Trevor. And soon, being honest with their parents.
All the secrets would get laid out on the table, and they could justbelike this.
Lane, Trevor thought, would probably tell him he was oversimplifying. That he was being optimistic. But he couldn’t help it. It was going to besogood.
“Boys, stop ganging up on Tom, he’s trying his best,” Delia said with faux sternness.
“Ouch,” Tom said, wincing. But when she passed by him, she pressed a quick kiss against his lips.
Trevor glanced over at Lane, and the satisfaction and pleasure he felt that their parents were so happy was reflected in Lane’s expression.
Delia waved Lane towards her, and they headed down to the bedroom, to look at something she’d brought for him, leaving Trevor and his dad alone together.
“You doing okay, kid?” Tom asked.
Trevor rolled his eyes. “We text all the time. And I’m sure Delia gives you updates every time I talk to her. So you know I’m good.”
“Still enjoying staying with Lane?” Tom asked, and there was an additional layer of studied casualness to his question that pinged something deep down in Trevor.
Did his dad know? Did his dadsuspect?
Just two days ago, Trevor had argued strongly in favor of telling their parents what was going on right away. But now, faced with the possibility that his dad might have already guessed, Trevor couldn’t help but freak out a little.
Maybe Lane had the right way of this, after all.
“Yeah, of course. Lane’s . . . ” Trevor swallowed hard.Lane’s great. Lane’s spectacular. Lane’s hot as fuck. I think I might be in love with Lane.“Lane’s Lane.”
Tom raised an eyebrow over his wire-framed glasses. “Lane’s Lane?”
Jordan had told him yesterday after practice that he was embarrassingly down bad, and that he didn’t know how the whole team hadn’t guessed already that they were fucking.
And that was only because he and Lane had been running routes together, and maybe,maybe, Trevor had glanced over at Lane a couple of times in a totally normal way! A way he’d been doing from the beginning. After all, Lane was supposed to beteaching him to be a better receiver, wasn’t he? Was Trevornotsupposed to pay attention?
“I mean, you know how he is.” Trevor shrugged awkwardly. God, he was fucking this up.
His dad’s eyebrow rose even further. “Not as well as you at this point,” he said mildly.
Trevor choked on freaking air. Jordan was right. He was embarrassingly transparent.
His dad looked at him more closely. “Because you’ve been living with him for over six months?” he continued.
“Right, right, of course.” Trevor wanted to die. He was sure his dad knewsomething. Had he told Delia? Was that why they’d come? To confront them about the fact that they’d hidden this from their parents?
