And then he even joked about hitting the bars and being each other’s wingmen. He’s straight, but he doesn’t seem to have any problem finding someone for me to hook up with either.

No problem. Like the entire conversation didn’t faze him at all. And I swear I’ve been smiling ever since. I told Kingston about it, and he acted kind of strange, in a way I couldn’t really read. But he also seems happy for me.

He told me he was proud of me for writing those words. Telling people who I really am. I think he wants me to do it here, but I can’t. There’s no point.

I know, deep down, I don’t really plan to come back here. I’m hoping like hell I can get him to visit me and hopefully as often as possible.

My mom and Luce too.

When the game ends, we all hit the showers and change, ready to drown our sorrows over the loss at a party.

But as I’m driving out there, I get a phone call from my mom. Someone called in at work, and they need her to come in. She sounds guilty as hell, but I know she needs the money, and her boss is kind of an asshole. He’ll give her shit if she doesn’t come in.

I let Kingston know, and then I drive home. I’m not surprised when I see his car pull up behind mine in the driveway. He hops out with a grin on his face. “So, party with Lucy instead, huh?”

I shake my head at him because this seems so easy for him. The go-with-the-flow attitude I’ll never have.

Mom apologizes profusely as she runs out the door, and I do my best to tell her it’s no big deal.

But when we settle on the couch watching a movie with Lucy, that’s when worry sets in. Worry about my mom and Lucy. How the hell are they going to handle it with me being eight hours away?

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Kingston leans into my ear, asking quietly. And now an entirely new set of problems is arising because holy fuck, he’s sitting close. His strong thigh touches mine, and if I’m not careful, I’ll have a big situation on my hands.

I turn to look at him. Mistake. God, he’s beautiful. And not just hot—which he is that—but so beautiful, it hurts to look at him. That chiseled jaw and handsome face. Those soulful, happy eyes. “What if this would have happened when I’m at school? I mean, I know it’s going to happen. What is Mom going to do then?”

He doesn’t look nearly as concerned now. He just looks at me like I’m insane. “She’ll call me.”