Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
“Yeah right,” he huffed. “You would have come home with three hundred plastic forks, ground beef, and some buns. There’s more to a barbeque than plain ol’ hamburgers. We need condiments, fruit, and maybe we should do vegetable skewers, and corn, and…”
I let his melodic voice wash over me. He was literally reciting a grocery list, and it was the biggest freaking turn-on. And no, it had nothing to do with food. It was more a sense of belonging. He was mine, and that was our grocery list. Our friends were coming to our housewarming party. And yeah, if Sky wanted to serve tofu, it was okay by me.
I wanted to pinch myself sometimes because my life didn’t seem real. So much had changed over the past few months. For once, it was all good.
Sky came out to his teammates immediately after I did. Baseball wasn’t in season at the time, so for him, it was a matter of making a few phone calls or meeting with a couple of guys to apologize for how he handled their coming out, like his ex, Max, and his former roommate, Christian. I sat beside him and held his hand under the table at Starbucks, quietly admiring his strength and poise. He’d fallen short or fallen down time and again, but he kept showing up and he kept fighting. He might have lost his family, but he’d gained a new one. His coworkers at BBC, my mom and Harry, his teammates, hell…even my friends and teammates rallied around him.
We had more love and support in our lives than we’d thought possible. It wasn’t all smooth sailing by any stretch. Not everyone was cool and accepting, but those people didn’t define us. And in some ways, they made us stronger. We’d learned to appreciate honesty and to stand up for our own truths.
Part of my truth was that I’d most likely never play professional hockey. That would have been a bitter pill to swallow a year ago, but there were other ways to be “the best” on the ice. I started coaching the Pee Wee hockey team at the rink after my season ended and liked it more than I thought I would. I split my time between the ice and school and Sky’s baseball games.
His season was over at the end of April, unless they made the playoffs. We figured we’d squeeze our barbeque in before we had to compete with games and graduations. We’d moved in together in January, so we were already a few months late. Not that our friends minded. It was a busy time of year, but it looked like we’d have a good turnout. Friends from both of our teams would be there, Elliot and his new guy, and yeah, even Kendra. But I was reasonably sure none of them wanted a tofu burger.
I hooked my fingers through Sky’s belt loop and tugged so he bumped against my chest. “What if we double up on veggies and forget the tofu?”
He leaned into my side and smiled. “Deal. But I still want real forks.”
I let out a faux put-upon sigh. “It’s a good thing I love you.”
He hugged me impulsively and pinched my side. “I love you too, Colb.”
And yes, Sky was the other part of my truth. My main truth. He was the only sign I needed. My reason, my heart, my soul. I believed in us. And I believed in our future.