Page 64 of Wrecked Rose

Mitchell nods his agreement. “Yeah. That was fucked-up. Don’t hesitate to say something.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sam swallows roughly as he turns his attention to me. Quietly, he asks, “Does everyone who comes out go through this?”

“I think everyone’s experience is a little different.” I press my lips together and take a deep, cleansing breath. I release it before I murmur, “Everyone’s.”

Griff’s jaw is tense, but he slowly nods, understanding that I was including him in what I just said. He steps closer and softly says, “I need to talk to you later. During newspaper, maybe.”

The sound of his voice goes right to my head. Damn, I’ve missed him. I nod.

Griff wets his lip and nods back, then walks away with Mitchell.

Sam’s voice is low when he says, “I bet it’s even harder for him.” His eyes flick to mine, which I know have widened in surprise. “It was nothing he did. I just have really good gaydar.”

Chapter 38

Griff

My heart beats hard as I watch Max from across the room later that afternoon. He appears to be working on whatever article he’s been assigned for the next edition of the newspaper and he’s head down, typing away. I really need a chance to talk things through with him. I know I want more, but I don’t know how any of this plays out. I don’t know how to make it happen.

Our eyes connect. I hold up my phone, then text him.

Me:Ready to talk?

Max:I don’t want to talk via text.

Me:Yeah, I hear that. Meet me in the darkroom?

Max:Are you asking me to get into the closet with you?

Max:…?

Me:Fuck. Shit. No. Not like that.

Max:Calm down, Legendary. I’m messing with you.

Me:Privacy. I’m looking for privacy, that’s all.

Max:Griff. I know.

I get up out of my seat and walk with purpose from the main part of the room as if I have actual work to attend to somewhere down the small hallway that leads to the darkroom. We hardly use this room for anything except storage, so it should be safe enough to steal away for a few minutes alone. Stopping outside the door, I glance down the hallway and, seeing no one watching me, turn the knob and let myself in, flicking on the safelight. The air in here is a bit musty but it’ll have to do. I can’t go another minute without trying to explain how I feel. I drop my head, chin to chest, and lean back against an old desk. My tie is about to strangle me, so I loosen it and undo a few buttons of my shirt until I can breathe again. This could potentially go really well… or really, really badly.

Thirty seconds later, the door eases open and my head snaps up as Max lets himself in. He shuts the door behind him, then takes a few steps toward me. I meet him halfway, gripping him at the waist with both hands.

Max doesn’t say anything, but reaches for me, clasping my arms while gazing into my eyes. I can hardly collect my thoughts when he’s looking at me like this. Like he wants nothing more than for me to tell him I want to be with him. And I do. I just don’t know how to make it happen without blowing up my entire life.

My fingers dig into his waist as I begin, like I’m trying to anchor myself to him. “Max, I swear if I’d known Jack was about to start something, I would have stopped him before it ever happened.”

Max’s bold hazel stare is focused solely on me in the odd amber light. “I appreciated that you said something. Mitchell, too. You can tell him I was grateful that he could see what Jack was doing was wrong.”

“I’ve been sticking like glue to Jack, which has been really hard lately because he’s showing more and more of his true colors. I’ve been wondering if Daniel is one of the guys involved, too.” I grind my teeth together, thinking. “I want you to know I’m watching. Waiting for Jack to mess up and spout off in a way that makes it obvious he was behind the attack. It might take getting back into baseball season, but I’ll find out, even if it comes down to confronting him directly.”

“I appreciate that. And I’ll be ready.” Max lowers his head for a second, like he’s trying to gather the courage to say whatever is on his mind. When he finally looks up, it’s with hesitation and worry clear in his eyes. He releases his grip on me and backs away a step so we’re no longer touching. “Griff, I really need to know if this is going somewhere. Because not knowing is killing me. And I like you so goddamn much, but I don’t want to force you into doing anything you don’t want to do or make you feel like you have to share what we have with other people if you’re not—”

Our gazes lock and hold. Time for honesty. “When things first started happening between us, I tried so hard to deny what I was feeling. But… I can’t do that anymore. I like everything about you—your humor, your confidence, how loyal you are to your friends, and especially the way you make me feel.”

When his brow twitches up, I smile. “And I don’t only mean physically, though that”—I know an astonished, happy look has crossed my face—“is fucking amazing, too. All of this was unexpected. I had no idea I’d feel this way, and I’m finding that I want more and more from you and of you and I don’t want to hide it, but… I’m terrified of what will happen when this gets out.” I swallow hard, noting the tenseness I sense in his body. I put it there, made him feel that way with my indecision. With my inability to publicly express my attraction to him.

“Griff, I’m still confused about what this is to you. I mean, fuck, you’re still allowing girls to sit on your lap at lunch.”

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