Page 35 of Every Hidden Truth

In an attempt to break the heavy atmosphere, I grinned against his cheek and said, “And if that still doesn’t work, I’ll jerk you off, and then you won’t be having a bad day anymore.”

To my delight, he laughed, turning to face me. Our noses brushed, and he cocked an eyebrow.

“You’re that confident in your skills, huh?”

“Oh, baby, I have skills,” I purred, and he laughed again, neck splotching red with another blush. Looking him up and down, I waggled my eyebrows. “I’d prove my skills right now if you weren’t so... bruisey.”

“I don’t think I could get it up if I tried.” He shifted on the couch with a pained grimace. “Rain check.”

The thought of getting my hands on him made my brain short-circuit for a moment, but I managed to nod. “Yeah, okay. Rain check. Cool.”

He eyed me, and I flushed and looked away.

“You good?” he asked with a knowing smirk.

“Shut up,” I snapped, and he grinned up at the ceiling.

“You have a lady boner for me,” he teased, and I very gently punched his shoulder.

“Excuse me, I have a very manly boner for you.”

He laughed, then winced. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”

“Tell me my boner is the manliest of all the boners,” I demanded, grinning as he laughed harder, clutching at his side.

“Oh my God, stop. I’m serious. It hurts so much.”

“Okay, okay.” I removed the now-melted bag of green beans from under his shirt. “I think I have some cauliflower in the freezer if you want.”

Ben shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. Just stay here.”

As he rested his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes, I tucked myself into his side. I hugged his arm loosely and laid my head on his shoulder. His temple met the top of my head, and together, we released matching sighs.

“I have a lady boner for you,” he admitted, making me snort.

“Yours is a lady, huh?”

His shoulder jostled my head. “I’m confident in my masculinity. My boner can be a lady.”

“You’re so fucking weird.”

“You like me anyway,” he said confidently, and I squeezed his arm.

“Yeah, I guess I do.”

And when he kissed the top of my head, I held on to him for dear life, wishing I could stay here forever.

11

Queer Club

The last few weeksof the semester passed in a flurry of study guides and practice exams. Ben served his detention with his coach, but nothing else was done about the after school fight. Apparently, Coach McKinney really didn’t want anything tarnishing his wrestlers’ reputations because it was as if the fight never happened.

Which was probably for the best. It meant no one got suspended or, worse, expelled—me included. So I kept my head down, and it all seemed to blow over without too many repercussions.

The last Monday of the semester was frigid. Snow mounded in deep drifts, and ice slicked the roads. Mabel fish-tailed at every turn, and I crawled along at a measly fifteen miles per hour to ensure I didn’t end up in the ditch.

When I made it to school in one piece, I parked my truck a few spaces down from Ben’s silver Impala. He leaned againstthe hood, dressed in his bulky winter coat and fuzzy hat. The moment I rolled to a stop, he loped over with a wide grin.

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