Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 93096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“That’s great.” Luis kept his own voice professional. Garrick looked vaguely familiar, like perhaps he’d seen him around here when younger. He had a fun collection of little fidgets on his desk—springs and finger puzzles and a hand-knit bear with lopsided ears. And interestingly, Garrick had a pic of himself with a long-haired hippie sort of guy near his computer monitor.
Hardly definitive proof that Garrick wasn’t straight, but it sure as hell would be nice if Luis wasn’t the only openly rainbow-flag-waving person in the office. Unexpected around here, that was for sure. He was used to being quieter in these rural offices, not going back in a closet but still toning it down, so finding allies and other LGBTQ folks was always very welcome. And he probably wasn’t going to be able to count on Tucker for either of those things. He had no idea how Tucker identified these days, but he’d put money on that closet door being padlocked shut, no matter what he’d said all those years ago.
“I...I think I’m gay.” It was the first time Luis had said the words aloud. Heck, he hadn’t even let himself write the words in his private notebooks. But the words had been pounding in his head, louder and louder, until now when alone with his best friend in the loft of the barn, he couldn’t keep them back anymore.
“No kidding?” Tucker didn’t sound particularly shocked, which said that maybe Luis hadn’t done such a good job hiding it after all. He kicked at some straw, not looking at Luis, but not moving from his spot right next to him, hips and shoulders mere centimeters apart. The barn smelled musty, their whispers the only sound in the old structure.
“Yeah. I mean... I’ve thought it for a long time now, but at Sam’s party last weekend, when Chelsea kissed me, I couldn’t wait for it to be over. I’m not sure what other guys feel when they look at girls, but for me...it’s not happening.”
“Wow. I thought...” Tucker gulped in a breath and Luis’s heart galloped. He wasn’t sure he could stand it if his friend condemned him. “Thought I was the only one who felt like that.”
Best. Feeling. Ever. Luis’s whole being soared. “Seriously? Katie told everyone you were a good kisser.”
“She’s...nice. But kissing...” Tucker made a sour face. “Not sure what the big deal is.”
“Maybe we’re not kissing the right people.” Luis leaned in, pulse pounding like he’d slammed half a case of Mountain Dew. Any second now, Tucker would pull away and the bubble would burst, but far from recoiling, Tucker scooted closer, denim-covered thigh rubbing against Luis’s, the most electric sensation he’d ever felt. Then their lips met, clumsy and unsure, noses bumping as they shifted around, trying to sort out how to do this. The glancing contact at first wasn’t that different from other kisses, but then Tucker gave a happy sigh, mouth parting, and a ball of energy gathered in Luis’s middle. He felt like a superhero coming into his powers, a strange new force taking over. Yeah. He was gay. That was for sure. No more maybe about it. And far from scary, it was nothing short of amazing because his best friend was right here with him, kissing him back.
But apparently while the memory was etched on Luis’s soul, Tucker hadn’t had any such revelation, and he had either figured out the “big deal” about kissing women at some point or slammed the door shut on that part of himself, consigning himself to something less than the perfection they’d found in the barn loft that day. And whichever it was, Luis had no business caring.
Indifference was tough to maintain, however, especially when Tucker finally moved on from Garrick and some small talk about who had been in which grade in school. He led Luis to a nearby office. It had a door with Tucker’s name on it, which spoke to his management role in the organizational hierarchy.
“We can talk about your duties in here.” Tucker held the door open. He apparently rated a window—a high one, with a shelf of hardy plants in little pots. Scrubby cacti with two of the pots looking painted by a child’s hand. Figured that he was the kind of dad to display gifts like that. A large bookcase dominated the room, and a few more kid-centric mementos like a Lego structure and a lumpy clay something lurked along with the textbooks and manuals Luis would have expected. The wall held a diploma for a degree Luis hadn’t known he had, and next to it was one of those collage frames. And there they were. Little clones of Tucker. Babies and small boys and awkward tweens. He couldn’t tell whether it was the same two kids over time or if maybe it was a whole soccer team of miniature Tuckers.