Page 93 of Hard to Score

“I love you, Brexton,” I say, surprised that I confessed my feelings to her last night but more so now that I’m just as comfortable saying it again to her.

“Take that, Ginnie Huber,” she jokes. “I’ve got four letters to your two.”

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

BREXTON

MY COFFEE IS STRONG AND the morning air is crisp with the first real traces of fall. The summer has had an extended stay in New York this year and as I sit with my knees drawn up to my chest on the rooftop of my building, I’m more than ready for the seasons to start changing.

This rooftop.

I smile with a shake of my head and think about how Drew and I made love here almost two weeks ago.

Yes, we made love.

That’s what it was. Because words hadn’t been exchanged yet, but our hearts had already decided.

It feels surreal.

It feels perfect.

And yet, why do I feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop?

I take a sip and let the potent liquid scald my tongue as I debate the one thing that’s been weighing on my mind: I’m hiding Drew from my family.

I’m in love with a man. A man who loves me, and the very notion I haven’t told anyone or talked to anyone about it other than Jules, given she saw us at the farmer’s market, is utterly fucking ridiculous.

But why aren’t you, Brex? Why do you feel the need to keep things so private?

Is it because you’re afraid Drew might be right? That Dad might have had a hand in whatever happened to Gary Bowman? If that’s the case, it would shed a different light on the man you’ve put on a pedestal your whole life. Make you look at him differently.

The thought staggers me.

Then I immediately reject the notion, but it’s already out there, the epiphany lingering.

Is that why I’m hesitant to say anything? Do I really think he knows more than he’s letting on? Is it a possibility?

Drew certainly thinks so. He may not have said it outright but it’s there, unspoken and hanging between us.

I snuggle back in my seat, my eyes taking in the city laid out before me but not really focusing on anything. I’m at a loss for words.

Because for the first time, I completely understand how Drew feels.

The rift is there, and we’re both at fault for not confronting it.

The question is, how do we go about healing it? I’m not sure our past can stay in the past if it causes conflict, both now . . . and into the future.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

DREW

3 years ago

I SHOULDN’T BE HERE.

I’ve had enough whiskey tonight, had too much time to think, and I fucking shouldn’t be here.

And yet still I push open the door and walk into my parents’ house. It’s bright and airy and a goddamn farce to the weight I feel every time I step foot in this freaking tomb.