Liam waved to his parents as they backed out of the driveway. Leaving with Pop to go “home” was weird. The opposite of leaving Grandma and Pop with his parents after a visit.
Slider barked in the back seat, and Liam grinned. Okay, that was different.
“I think last night went well.” Pop snuck a glance at Liam. “Did you have fun?”
“Yeah. Too bad Helen wasn’t there so she could meet everyone.”
Pop frowned. “Your Aunt Laura would have bitched and complained all night about how at my age it wasn’t proper. Just because she thinks acting tragic is fashionable doesn’t mean the rest of us agree.”
That didn’t sound like Pop. “Since when do you care what Aunt Laura thinks?”
“I just wouldn’t want to subject Helen to a disapproving family. We’d have to act like we weren’t seeing each other to avoid ruining the party. If we had to pretend we weren’t together, there was no point in bringing her. She deserves to be treated better.”
Coury deserved better than Liam’s post-kiss silence. Everything he’d told Beckett was true. Coury was being Coury when he did all those nice things. They weren’t dating, and Coury had treated Liam like he mattered. He didn’t hide him away from his friends. If anything, he made a fuss over Liam when they hung out with his frat brothers.
Liam repaid those efforts by signaling he regretted their brief kiss.
“No one deserves that.”
“Very true. People you connect with don’t come around every day. When you find one, like Helen, you don’t take chances. I told her the truth and gave her the option.”
Liam’s phone vibrated.
Coury: What time should I pick you up?
Fuck. In the chaos of family goodbyes, he’d forgotten to text.
Liam: I’m in the car with Pop. We left already.
Coury: ?? I thought we were riding back together.
He could hear the hurt in Coury’s words.
Liam: Sorry.
It was a shitty thing. Coury had done everything to accommodate him and Liam had ditched him for the ride back.
Coury: Gotcha. See you back at school.
Of course he would. Nothing had changed.
Everything had.
* * *
Coury
Sitting in the bleachers sucked worse now that the informal practices had become formal.
Soon.
He was doing great, his therapist had told him.
Except he wasn’t.
In the two days since they’d gotten back to school, Liam had sent one text, begging off tutoring because he had a paper due. Coury didn’t begrudge the guy the right to do his own work, but he missed their time together.
Liam was wicked smart. He’d probably figured it out and decided Coury and his baseball dream weren’t worth getting any more involved.
