Page 55 of What You Own
Fuck me.
“Only you, Ryan,” he said, the words so soft I barely heard them. “Only you.”
What’s a guy to do?
I hauled Adam in and kissed him. Didn’t care who was watching or what it meant. Only cared that he went limp against me for a split second, before clinging hard. His mouth opened for me, letting me claim him. Punish him. Mark him as mine.
People were applauding. Someone wolf whistled. I let him go, my face flaming.
Lou shouted something, and music for the next actual performance started up.
Adam gazed at me in dizzy wonder, as happy and scared as I’d ever seen him. “I don’t want to lose you, Rye, not ever,” he said. “I’m so sorry for last week.”
“Shut up.” I cupped his face in my hands, which were trembling. My whole body was shaking a little. “I can’t believe you did that.”
For the first time he looked unsure. “I figured it was the best way to show you that I mean it. I love you. I want to be with you, no matter what.”
Hell. We both looked at the same time. His daddy was gone.
His hip buzzed right next to mine. He checked the text. His whole body wilted, and he showed it to me:Don’t come home tonight.
I yanked him into my arms and hugged him. I didn’t know what else to do, but I must have picked right, because he hugged me back. Hugged me and let me hold him while the enormity of what he’d done hit him.
“Come home with me?” I whispered.
I felt him nod. “Yeah.”
Adam
IHADN’Tthought Dad would actually accept my invitation to see the dress rehearsal. He brushed it off this afternoon when I suggested it, telling him he’d have an idea of the performances and could chat them up with authority during the preshow, glad-handing tomorrow night. When he hadn’t shown up by intermission, I’d given up. Oh, I’d still planned to sing “Without You” with Ellie. I’d groveled for her participation, and she agreed it was a great way to apologize for being such a selfish dickhead to Ryan.
And then Dad did show up, and I never once got cold feet. Even while I talked to him to keep him from leaving too soon, I didn’t consider backing out of the second song. Seeing me onstage singing with Ryan would piss him off, yes, that was going to happen no matter what. Seeing me singingtoRyan would tell him everything I hadn’t been able to say.
Don’t come home tonight.
Expected, but the texted words still cut me like a blade, deep and damaging. I couldn’t take any of this back—would not take it back—and we could only go forward.
Ryan stayed close for the rest of the night, which I spent in a bit of a daze. Lou gave some kind of rah-rah speech, told everyone to be back here by five o’clock tomorrow, and then we dispersed. Ryan and I walked out to the parking lot together. We stopped next to my car.
“I still can’t believe you did that, hoss,” Ryan said. “And in public.”
“I had to make sure you knew this was for real, that I wasn’t making another empty promise. I’m not stuffing you into my back pocket. I’m not asking you to wait. All I’m asking is for you to love me and to be honest with me.”
“I can do that. I want to do that. But what about the money?”
“I’ll still get my inheritance when I turn twenty-one.” January felt like a long way off when it was only July. “I already called the financial aid office about tuition. I applied for grants, and I can get a part-time job on campus to pay the rest.”
Ryan blinked owlishly. “You did all that already?”
“Yes. I needed a few backup plans in place before I blew up my life.”
“You always did like bein’ prepared.”
“And I was never even a Boy Scout.”
He chuckled. “At least you blew it up with style.”
“And show tunes.”
