Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“Good to hear.”
“Better than good, actually.”
“Yeah?” Kai blew out his match.
“Yeah.”
“You two a thing now or something?”
“Actually, we are.”
Kai grinned. “I can hear you smiling.”
Scott chuckled. “You’ve got good ears.”
Kai nodded, his smile softening. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks.” Scott paused for a moment. “So, uh, listen. The reason I called… Max asked me to hit you up… regarding Sean.”
“Ah.” Kai switched his phone to his other ear. “He didn’t change his mind.”
“Unfortunately not.”
“He wants me to take him.”
“Yeah. Think you’re up for it?”
Kai’s gaze drifted to the window. “Hmm…”
“You still live by yourself, right?”
“Yeah.”
Another lingering moment of silence.
“I think you’d like him,” Scott offered. “He’d be great company.”
Kai rubbed his nape, then frowned and nodded. “All right.”
“All right? You mean you’ll take him?”
“Why not.”
Scott’s relief was palpable. “That’s awesome. Thanks, man. Max’ll be happy.”
“You sure about that?”
“No, but fuck it. It’s what he wants. His life, his loss.”
“If you say so.”
Scott exhaled heavily. “Honestly, I don’t know what I say about him anymore… Anyway, I’ll let him know, and then we’ll get back to you with Sean’s response.”
“Okay.”
“Take it easy.”
Kai nodded. “You, too.”
* * * *
The whistle’s sharp chirp tore through the gymnasium like a bullet.
“Warm-up’s over!” Coach called out. “Pair up, Patriots! Let’s go!”
Breck stopped with his free throw drills and moved to practice with Charlie.
Charlie took defense, assuming stance directly in front of him. “Ready for Friday’s game?”
It was only Monday.
Breck jab-stepped forward, then darted laterally. “Always.”
Charlie laughed, hustling sideways to cover him. “Always, my ass. You didn’t look ready at all on Saturday.”
Breck pursed his lips and paused, dribbling in place. Couldn’t exactly argue. He hadn’t been up to par for the weekend game. He’d been hungover as fuck, still half-drunk from the previous night’s clubbing. But that was only half of what had his brain set on partial focus.
In truth, he’d still been reeling from Tad’s little visit Saturday afternoon. Breck had crashed on Ned’s couch, and Tad had stopped by unannounced. Truth be told, he hadn’t looked much better off than Breck. He’d been hungover, too, but had also looked upset. Said he needed to tell them something. Breck had asked if it could wait since he felt like death.
“No,” Tad had said. “It really can’t. I made a promise. Gotta do this so I can fix shit. It won’t take long.”
So, Breck had agreed and gingerly sat upright. Ned had plopped down beside him like a happy hippo, jostling Breck so badly, he’d nearly barfed in his lap. Tad seemed to have sensed as much and gave him a minute—then proceeded to tell them both that he was gay.
And there it was. Not just a suspicion anymore but an officially confirmed fact. Tad wasn’t straight and never had been. One of Breck’s best friends was homosexual. Something that suddenly felt so different to him than merely being bi.
Tad had a bona fide boyfriend—not to be mistaken in any sense for a secret fuck pal. He truly cared about the guy he was with. To the extent that Tad straight-up said he loved the man. Which had thrown Breck for a loop. Romantic feelings? Lust was one thing, but love? He couldn’t imagine that with a man. It certainly wouldn’t be an emotion that his dad would condone.
Unlike Breck, Ned’s reaction to Tad’s statement had been immediate, not to mention a whole lot more animated. He’d coughed so hard on his drink, the stuff had shot out his through nose. Ironically, not because he was blindsided by Tad’s announcement—although in fairness, it probably looked that way—but rather, because he was shocked that Tad had come out this early in the game. Or more to the point, that he’d just lost his bet with Breck and was down a hundred bucks.
Lips curving at the memory of Ned shoving those five twenties in his hand, Breck refocused and crossed the basketball between his legs to his other hand. Shooting forward, he attacked the rim. His layup was sweet, ball meeting net with a swoosh.
“Brought us a win, didn’t I?” he finally responded.
Charlie laughed and caught the ball, dribbling it back out of the box. “You really taking credit for that? Me and Jegs did most of the lifting.”
“Shit,” Breck scoffed, covering him.
Charlie chuckled, dart-stepping right. “You know it’s true.”
Breck blocked instinctively. Charlie countered hard in the opposite direction and bolted past. Breck scowled and beat feet after him. Charlie was fast, but so was he. In a heartbeat, he caught up to him. Charlie grinned and slammed on the breaks, then leapt up and sank the ball with a flawless hook shot.
Breck cursed and switched to offense.
Charlie laughed. “Yeah, you looked just like that.”
“Bite me.”
Charlie grinned, back to covering as Breck dribbled. “Nah, but seriously, B. You’re always hungover, and yet it never messes with your game. If something’s buggin’ you, you better fix it. The Big Dance is here.”