Golden Boys (Golden Boys, #1)(2)



“That’s so easy for you to say.” I push back. “You’re comfortable in big cities, you fit in everywhere. Nothing scares you.” I don’t mention that he also has the money to do these things, while my parents are eating into their savings to send me to Boston. “But it’s hard for me to even think about. I want your confidence, you know?”

“You still did it, Gabe. You have to be confident and brave to make these plans—to apply, to tell your parents, to actually commit to this bonkers save-the-trees passion. You saw the opportunity, and you said yes. That’s brave. Don’t let your anxiety overshadow everything you’ve already done.”

I sigh, long and slow, as he holds me tighter. “I keep thinking of all the people I need to impress, all the crowds I have to deal with. I’m going to hate Boston, I know it. Seriously, what the ‘heck’ did I get myself into?”

He laughs, then mumbles something about how I’m going to do great. He’s so casual with how he holds me right now. His sticky body is pressed to mine, and he’s not even doing anything, but his intensity still radiates. It’s addictive … his energy, his confidence, his drive.

He’s always striving for more: better grades, more accolades for his desk, but he’s somehow as content with me as I am with him. I can’t help but think we both deserve better than content, though. So, maybe this summer apart will be good for us.

He holds me close, and I breathe him in. I ignore the part of me that never wants him to let go.





CHAPTER TWO

SAL

I don’t know why, but something hits me when Gabriel and I step onto the porch. Something other than the heat wave, that is. A wave of longing, maybe? Remorse? Fear? But I smile and push through it. Those feelings will just hold me back, so I can’t let myself think too hard on it.

We’re already running much later than we planned. Reese wanted us at his goodbye party early to help set up, and if Gabe doesn’t leave now, we don’t have a chance of getting ready, picking up supplies, and making it to Reese’s on time. But something’s stopping him from going.

“So,” he says. “With how Reese’s family is, his goodbye party’s bound to go on all night. You’ve got family stuff Wednesday; I’ve got family stuff Thursday.”

“On Friday, the four of us will be together all night,” I say, catching on to what he’s saying.

“And we leave Saturday.”

“We leave Saturday,” I echo.

He shifts uncomfortably, and the longing settles in my chest again. “Which means, this is it for us, in a way?” he says.

“It’ll never be it for us.” I wink. “But yeah, we won’t have alone time for a while.”

Our friendship is unconventional, to say the least. We’ve always been able to talk through it, though. Even if Gabriel’s anxiety sometimes gets in the way and makes it hard for him to express his thoughts. But today is different. It’s never felt clipped like this. He’s never seemed so guarded.

I reach out to him, and he pulls back at the last second.

“I … don’t know why I’m thinking so much about it,” he says. “Three months is a long time, I guess. And we finally have our first chance to date other people.”

“And you’ve suddenly realized you love me.”

Our eyes meet, but he busts out laughing first.

I know I love him. It’s not that kind of love. But it’s not nothing. There’s something there, and it’s just that everything around us moves so quickly. I’m freaking busy, Mom’s always breathing down my neck, and everything is hard.

But this isn’t. In fact, sinking into his lips is easy.

“I’ll miss this, though.” I admit it with a gentle smile on my face. “And if we never get to hook up again because we’re off falling in real love with our cosmopolitan boyfriends, then good for us. Right?”

The silence after I ask is full of emotion. We knew there was an expiration date on this, but I didn’t think I’d be staring it in the face so soon.

“Right.” His voice is quiet, but it doesn’t reveal much of anything. “And if this is it for us, just know I’ve appreciated it, Sal. Even if you are just awful in bed.”

I scoff and pretend to turn away, but he grabs my arm and spins me toward him.

“Joking,” he says. “I really will miss us.”

With Gabe, I always have to be the strong one. The confident one. And I like that dynamic. I like feeling in control, taking the lead, but right now I don’t feel so confident.

He turns to go, but he stops when I let out a whimper.

“Did you say something?”

I bite my lip. “No. It’s nothing.”

It’s not nothing, of course. I’m stressed about moving to DC, about our friendship, about the other guys. About my mom’s three hundredth lecture on “college strategy” last night. I’m scared. I want to say that, and I need him to hear it. But I can’t cling to this dynamic we have. This whatevership that we’ve been in, off and on, for years. I need to move forward, and he does too, and this summer is the perfect time to do it.

He must sense my hesitation, because he comes back onto the porch and wraps me in a hug. We break apart, just briefly, and I bring my mouth to his. We have a million unspoken rules to our hookups; the most obvious one is that we never do it in public. But here he is, biting my lip and pressing his tongue into mine. We kiss, and we kiss, and we kiss.

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