“Thanks, Ian. You’re a godsend. Ok, I’ve gotta run. Take care and let me know if you need anything.”
“Will do!Take care,” I say, tapping the red button.
A breeze sweeps through the park, and I realize the sun will soon be setting. “All right, Rosey-Posey. Let’s head back to your place, ok?”
We walk in the direction of The Chapel and by the time we get there, my cheeks and hers are bright pink. I key in the code just as Willa pulls into the driveway. It takes us a minute to unstrap Rose and stow the stroller. But soon enough, we’re inside.
“You are the best, Ian, thank you. Traffic is awful at this time of day.”
“No problem,” I wave off Willa’s gratitude.
She levels me with her shrewd mom-gaze as she gets Rose settled with some toys and books.
“I know it’s not a problem. I know you love Rose. But it is an inconvenience to your already hectic schedule. I know you’re being pulled in a million directions, and I appreciate it.”
I sit down on the sofa to chat with Willa just as Ty and Knox come home. We exchange greetings, and when Willa invites me to stay for dinner, I happily comply. The only thing in my fridge right now is yogurt, and I don’t have it in me to go to the grocery store. I’ll eat dinner with friends, and then go home to catch up on coursework. It’s a plan.
“Hmmm…Whit’s been gone all weekend, so I’m not sure what we have. Let me peek in the fridge and see what I can scrounge up.”
“He texted earlier and said he’d be home sometime this afternoon,” Knox tells us, joining Willa in the kitchen to start dinner. I should offer to help, but I’m exhausted, so when Ty offers me a beer, I gladly accept it. I’m about to take a sip when the door opens and Booker walks in.
He’s backlit by the fading sun, and even exhausted from practice, he’s a beautiful man. He looks fresh from the shower, hair still wet, gray sweats on with a Bainbridge hoodie. We’re friends, I remind myself. He’s straight, I remind myself. He’s in my class, I remind myself. Sure, I’m not the official teacher on the roster, but I am still in a position of power. I can’t cross that line.
But there’s also no harm in looking, I tell myself. And maybe it’s my imagination, but as he greets everyone and sets his bag down, I feel his gaze linger on me.
“Book! You owe me a rematch. Come on, one game before dinner,” Ty coaxes, holding out a controller.
“Fine, but the result will be the same,” he says, taking a seat.
“Probably,” Ty shrugs. “Want in, Ian? Play the winner?”
I laugh. “Sportsball? That’s an easy pass.”
I turn my attention to my phone, enjoying the mindless downtime. My most recent QT has 45,000 views and I take time to reply to some of the comments. Yesterday’s video was about healing from childhood trauma. That’s a topic that resonates with a lot of people, and suddenly, my mind wanders to the handsome man on the couch across from me. No matter his sexuality or his identity, it’s clear he’s been hurt, that the adults in his life haven’t seen him, haven’t really tried to. I want so badly to reach out, to let him know I’m here, as a friend, but I have trust that he knows he can confide in me if he needs to.
I’m so lost in my thoughts that it takes me a minute to realize someone else has arrived. I thought I heard the door and I figured Whit was home. Instead, there’s a curvy brunette standing before us in the living room. She’s not Caleb Whitman, but she’s looking for him.
“Lucy? Don’t you live in Wisconsin? What the hell are you doing here? Did you come back with Whit?” Ty abandons his video game and moves in for a hug.
But the woman, Lucy, I presume, looks perplexed. “No, I came here for him. There was a big mess, an issue with my internship, but none of that matters now. The only thing that matters to me is Whit, and I need to tell him that. Is he here?”
Knox pokes his head out of the kitchen just as Booker palms his phone. The next ten minutes are a whirlwind and my mind is a little blown. Not only is Lucy Whit’s stepsister, she’s in love with him, and flew a thousand miles just to make things right between them. But instead of walking into The Chapel to find her true love waiting for her, he’s nowhere to be found. As Lucy relays her side of the story, and the guys chime in with what they know, it soon becomes clear that Whit is MIA. Not only is that wildly inconvenient for Lucy, it’s scary. According to the guys, Whit regulates his depression and his ADHD with medication. So if he’s not here, and he’s not in class, and he’s not answering his phone, that’s a problem.
I step into the kitchen to make a few phone calls before takingmy seat back on the sofa, turning my phone in my hands. “I just checked and there haven’t been any major road accidents. And, as of five minutes ago, the local hospitals didn’t have anyone with that name or description. Can you think of anywhere he’d go? Maybe his mom’s?” I ask.
“No. I mean, maybe? But probably not now that Lucy’s dad lives there. Oh, crap. No offense.” Booker’s cheeks flush.
“None taken,” Lucy smiles. “My dad is not on my list of favorites right now.”
“Hold up,” Booker says, like a light has gone on, as he races upstairs. Less than a minute later, he’s back, but if anything, he looks more distressed. “His key to Ollie’s cabin is still here. And so are his meds.”
“Fuck,” Knox curses. “Did he take his meds when he was at your place, Lucy?”
She pauses to think. “Um…yes. I think so? I’m not sure. I didn’t check. I—"
“It’s fine. He doesn’t have the key to Ollie’s, so—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Booker shakes his head. “He knows the garage code and where they keep the spare key. If he went there, he could get in.”
