[COMPLETED]
I won't be another straight man's secret.
It's hard to plan the perfect wedding for your best friend when you can't keep your eyes off the groom's cousin. Sky's perfect -- except for one thing: he's as straight as the last man who broke...
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Last night had been confusing.
The more time I spent with Sky, the more confusing things were becoming.
Sky was straight. I knew that without even having to ask. It was obvious from the way he carried himself, from the way he looked so nervous when we were at Neon City, from the way he assumed that I had no idea what a Thunderbird was.
And yet, there was just this vibe about him that I couldn’t shake. When I was next to him, it was like there was this connection between us, the kind of connection that usually would’ve ended up with us waking up in bed together the next morning.
But I knew that was never going to happen.
It was the reason I’d decided to walk home after we’d left the bar. I’d initially entered my address as the first drop-off for the Uber but canceled it once Sky and I were silently standing outside on the street.
I mean, I pretty much had to cancel my ride as soon as I realized that the silence between us wasn’t just silence. It was tension, maybe even sexual tension, and it was as familiar to me as the back of my hand.
And since I knew that it wasn’t possible to have that kind of tension with a straight guy, I also knew that everything brewing between us was all in my head. I was building something out of nothing, using an imaginary sense of connection to explain my sudden fondness for the way Sky laughed, the way he smiled, the way he spoke.
But I wasn’t willing to go down this rabbit hole again. I was never going to end up in another straight guy’s bed. I was never going to be someone’s secret experiment, something they only felt comfortable enough to do in the dark.
Which meant that I was never going to end up with Sky.
Never.
Not even if he begged.
I finished pulling my thoughts together just as I turned the corner of a small garage, trying my best to follow the directions that Sky had texted me. He’d mentioned something about a yellow-painted door and more windchimes than seemed necessary hanging off the garage’s side.
As I stepped closer to the garage, I spotted the windchimes, all bunched together, as if someone had been meticulously hanging them from every free space on the garage’s wall.
“Did you do this?” I asked as I poked at the mass of windchimes. “Were they on sale or something? Please tell me you saved at least one receipt.”
“Sorry, what?” Sky replied, sliding out from under the car. His back was pressed up against what looked like a wooden plank on wheels as he looked over at me. “Oh! Hey, Raven. Glad you could make it.”
Oh my God.
Sky had somehow found a way to double in hotness overnight. He was wearing a sleeveless, white tank top, stained with grease from working on the car. And he was covered in sweat, too, as little droplets fell from his forehead onto his lips.