50. Huckslee

Huckslee

F our days. Four fucking days Taylor's been gone, and I'm losing my mind.

Me: Today is Tuesday.

Tay: Yes, I know how a calendar works.

Me: Oh, good, I was worried. Since, you know, I haven't seen you since Friday.

Tay: You missing me, baby?

Me: What the hell kind of question is that, Taylor?

Obviously, I miss you. And I leave in three days, you know that, right? Am I going to see you before then?

My text goes unanswered, and the rest of the day is met with complete radio silence from him. The amount of anguish I feel is unhealthy and downright toxic, but I couldn't care less. We've spent so much time together over the last few months that I feel his absence like a missing limb, the cold sheets on his side of the bed every morning instantly bringing moisture to my eyes. I hate this. Maybe Christian was right—cutting things off would be easier than feeling this way. Only, I don't want to. I just want Taylor.

But as much as I want to mope around the apartment and fall apart, my dad reached out today, inviting me over for dinner. So reluctantly, I drag myself out of bed, throw on some clothes after putting Baby Bones in her cage, and drive down to see him. I'm not a hundred percent in the mood to talk, but I know I need to smooth things over between us before I leave, or it'll eat at me every day that I'm gone. I wish I could do the same with Logan, but he hasn't responded to my texts or calls. I just feel like a lumpy sack of shit.

The house is dark when I pull up, and my gaze snags on a shiny black limousine parked on the curb next to the drive, which has my head tilting. Maybe it belongs to one of the neighbors? As I park and exit the Audi, the driver of the limo exits as well, moving to open the back door, and my jaw drops when I see Logan step out onto the sidewalk, dressed like fucking James Bond.

"What are you doing out here in a limo?"

He only smirks. "Get in, Huck."

I shake my head, feet stepping toward him of their own accord. "But I have to meet my dad for dinner."

"He's not here," Logan's grin grows wider. "Now get in, we're already late."

What the fuck ?

"Late for what?"

Huffing in frustration, he grabs my arm and yanks me toward the limo, forcefully shoving me into the backseat while the driver just stands there and watches what is essentially a kidnapping in progress. Logan climbs in after me, slamming the door shut, and the next thing I know, a garment bag is being tossed over my lap.

"You're going to want to put this on."

"Whoa, hold up a damn minute." The limo lurches forward, causing the bag to slide off my lap. "What is going on here, Logan? What do you mean my dad isn't home? He invited me over just an hour ago."

He grabs the bag off the floor and throws it at me again. "Would you just put on the suit and shut up?"

"I swear, this exact scene happened in a Marvel movie once," I snort, unzipping the bag to find a sleek-looking tuxedo inside instead of a superhero costume, much to my disappointment. "Are we going to a wedding?"

"You'll see," he says, zipping his lips, pretending to lock them and pitch the key over his shoulder. Despite the heavy ache in my chest, his antics get a choked laugh out of me. I wish Taylor were here to witness whatever weird fuckery is happening right now.

Peeling off my clothes, I do my best to slide into the tux, but I'm not exactly having an easy time with it, seeing as I'm over six feet tall. Logan's eyes widen when he spots the new tattoo on my chest, sputtering slightly.

"D-did you just get that?"

I nod, buttoning up the white undershirt. "Yep. He hasn't seen it yet, though. I... I think he's mad at me. "

There's a slight pause before Logan shrugs, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. "I'm sure he'll come around."

Something odd catches in his voice, and I narrow my gaze at him, immensely suspicious. He just smiles and shrugs far too innocently. Before I can pry any more information out of him, we're pulling into the parking lot of our old high school. A frown tugs at my mouth as I glance around, finishing up getting dressed.

"What are we doing here, Logan?"

"It's a surprise." He climbs out once the driver opens the door and offers me his arm, which I scowl at before exiting without help. Glancing down at my feet, he scoffs.

"You didn't even put on the nice shoes that came with the tux."

"These are brand new Astro Grabber's, Logan. They're the nicest shoes on the market right now. Got them with my signing bonus."

With an eye roll, he turns toward the steps leading to the school's front doors. "Okay, Mr. Football Star, let's get a move on."

"Hey, I can buy you a pair if you want." I follow after him, trying to shake the itchy feeling that arises from being here again after all these years. "Maybe for your birthday."

"I'm holding you to that. It can be your apology gift to me." He leads us through the dimly lit halls, which is creepy as hell, and I grab his arm just before we get to the gym.

"If you get one, where's mine?" Raising my brows, I drop his arm when he faces me. "We both hid shit from each other and for my part in that, I'm sorry. I should have been a better friend and trusted you with everything. "

His honey-brown eyes soften as he nods slowly. "Yeah. Me too."

"So, are we good? I don't want to leave with any bad blood between us on Friday. I love you, man. You're my best friend."

"Yeah, Huck. We're good. And I love you, too, or whatever." He shifts on his feet awkwardly, looking uncomfortable as hell, and I chuckle at the sight. This guy literally cuddled with Matty in a tent back in May but can't even handle a few words of affection.

"You need to be more open about your feelings, Loge. It's okay to tell your friends you love them."

"I just did, didn't I?" He glares at me as I continue to laugh, a small smile curling his lips. "Asshole. Anyway, we're here."

I glance over his shoulder, my grin fading when I take in the double wooden doors behind him. "The gym?"

Just being back here after what happened is like a lightning bolt to my nerves. The last time I stood here, I was with Royce, preparing to break it off with him while feeling like my life was ending. And it almost did. All because of what took place inside this gym, among other things.

Music filters through the door, hitting my ears for the first time, and Logan grins as he slowly pulls on the handle. "Surprise."

The lights are what I notice first, balls of color bouncing off the walls, ropes of twinkling lights strung from one end of the room to the other. Paper streamers hang from the rafters, fluttering gently, glowing balloons covering the entirety of the gym floor. And standing in the middle of it all is Taylor, stealing my breath away in a fitted tux matching my own, looking so beautiful it hurts. He's frowning down at his phone, typing furiously, and relief washes over his features when he glances up to find us standing there.

"About damn time, Jesus," he mutters irritably, gazing over my shoulder at Logan, who smacks his lips in response.

"Not my fault Huckslee drives like he's eighty. Or that he was less than enthused to get into the limo."

"Yeah, yeah, thanks for getting him here." Taylor moves his sparkling eyes to me, a smile lighting up that gorgeous face as the doors shut behind me. "Hi."

"What..." I swallow, sweeping my eyes over the decorated space. "What's happening right now?"

His grin turns shy as he follows my gaze, taking in the flickering tea lights and confetti joining the balloons on the ground. "I'm calling it prom two-point-oh. Or, prom as it should have been." Turning to me, he holds up a plastic box I hadn't noticed with two matching boutonnieres inside. "If you'll be my date?"

A tingling warmth blooms inside my stomach, spreading to my scalp and the tips of my toes, rendering me awestruck and speechless. I search his face, completely at a loss for words. His eyes soften as he takes out one of the boutonnieres to pin it on my jacket, making me tense when the material of the dress shirt scrapes over the sore spot on my left pec.

"Now you put this one on me," he says, grabbing my hand to set the box in my palm. I oblige, sticking it to his lapel before running my hands down his chest and wrapping my arms around him, loving the feel of this man against me after four long days.

"You did this for me?" My voice is hoarse, nearly silent under the music, but Taylor hears me just fine. He nods, licking his lips, which I capture with my own, greedily licking into his mouth. After a few heated moments of sucking on each other's tongues and pulling hair, he breaks away breathlessly, lips red and swollen from my teeth.

"We can revisit this later," he groans, grinding against me, "I have plans."

I nuzzle into his neck, kissing along the dragonfly tattoo covering his Adam's apple. "Four days, baby. I've been without you for four days. I need you."

God, I need him so bad. Need to be inside him, filling him up, claiming him.

A raspy chuckle vibrates against my lips on his throat. "We'll have plenty of time for that, trust me. But right now, I want to dance with you."

Reluctantly, I pull away and let him drag me by my hand through the sea of balloons swirling around our feet. A few of the words on some of them catch my eye, and I choke out a laugh.

"‘ Just Divorced'? ‘Aging Like Fine Wine' ?"

Taylor kicks at a balloon that says ‘Best Bitches' with a smirk. "The party supply store didn't have a lot in stock. We grabbed what we could last minute."

"We?" I come to a halt, tugging him around to face me. "Who's we? Is this why my dad wasn't home? Why you were gone all weekend?"

"Huckslee," he whines, sighing in exasperation. "Would you just let me surprise you without trying to ruin it?"

I lift a brow at him. "No."

With a light scoff, he turns away. "Come on. I'll explain while we dance. "

I let him continue to pull me through the gym, expecting us to stop in the middle of the room. But when he changes direction and leads me to the stage in the corner, my feet slowly come to a standstill. Ghosts of memories replay in my head, my heartbeat kicking up to flood my ears as feelings of shame and fear squeeze my throat. When Taylor turns around, though, and looks at me with those eyes glittering like the ocean under a summer sun, all my thoughts cease.

It's just him and me, surrounded by soft lights, speakers softly playing 'i apologise if you feel something' by Bring Me The Horizon. His hand is warm in mine, thumb sliding over my knuckles in a calming caress, the familiar scent of his shampoo like a blanket over all my doubts.

"Do you trust me?" His gaze is intense, imploring, digging underneath the surface, and I don't even need to think about my answer.

I don't hesitate. Don't think twice.

"With my whole heart."

And I do. Unflinchingly, fiercely, with every ounce of my soul, I know that Taylor would never break me. Not like before, when we were young and naive, still too far under our parents' thumbs to be anything to each other than what we were.

Now, we're just Taylor and Huckslee. Two men who fell for each other despite every reason not to, every odd stacked against them. And if this love between us could blossom despite all of the bullshit, how could I have ever questioned that it wouldn't survive a few months of separation out of the year? Our bond is stronger than that. I see it now. I feel it .

We slip behind the curtain, stepping onto the stage, which is as dank and musty as I remember. Band equipment still litters the space, along with a few props from old plays and stacked plastic chairs. Taylor spins around to face me when we reach the middle, still cautiously searching my face as he wraps his arms around my neck, and my hands instinctively find his waist.

"I promise I'm not going to freak out," I whisper against his mouth, not thoroughly kissing him, lightly pressing our lips together.

He shakes his head, brows furrowing when we sway to the music. "I'm not worried about that."

He says it with conviction, as if his faith in me is unshakable, and I have to clear out the emotion clogging my throat.

"Then what's the face for?"

"I just..." He pulls his head back slightly, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he glances away. "I went and saw your dad yesterday. We had a long talk. Well, I mostly talked, and he listened. You and I lost so much time because of what I did to you and speaking with Aaron made me realize that I don't want to waste a single second more."

Gently cupping his cheek, I drag his gaze back to mine. "Is that what this is, Tay? Making up for what we missed?"

"Partly. I can never change what I did, but I hoped we could do the same thing you did for me in my father's old trailer. Replace the bad with something good."

The weight of his words makes my chest tighten, moisture stinging my lids, and I quickly burrow into his shoulder to hide the obliteration I feel. It's nothing like the last time I stood here–this is dismantling in all the best ways, letting every piece of armor that I'd built to protect myself fall. It leaves me raw, like an exposed nerve, tender and aching, but...I love it.

"You saying you want me to fuck you on this stage?" I deflect, still hiding my face because even though it feels so right to be cracked open like this with him, I still have my dignity to maintain.

Taylor chuckles softly, twisting his fingers through my curls. "As fun as that sounds, it might get awkward with everyone watching."

My brows jump to my hairline as I lift my head, giving him a questioning look because we're alone, and the smile on his face turns wicked. Glancing over my shoulder, he motions at something behind me.

"Ready?"

"Oh, yes."

I spin around in time to see Royce toss me a wink before he pulls on the rope, opening up the curtain. My eyes widen as I gaze out into the completely filled gym.

Wall to wall, it's packed; some faces I know, and some I don't. Christian and Arya are dressed in formal attire near the middle, with Salem and Logan beside them. Xed is pressed against a smirking Devon, and Matty stands with a dark-haired woman holding Hannah. There are quite a few people I recall from school, ones that had been in this very gym four years ago and had witnessed one of the worst moments of my life. Old church members, too, and coworkers from the Prospector. Juanita, Eliza, Gale.

And standing smack in the front, in a tailored suit and smiling with so much pride in his eyes, is my dad.

Everyone begins cheering, hollering, and clapping their hands when I turn to Taylor with my mouth agape, eyes burning.

"What...how...I don't..."

He grins, flashing that crooked incisor I love so much as he leans close to repeat the words I said to him on the Fourth of July, ones he told me a lifetime ago when we watched my mother's favorite movie. "You're so fucking cute when you're flustered."

All I can do is stare at him, completely astonished. "I don't understand. What is this?"

"This is me coming out." Our fingers entwine in front of our bodies, connecting and grounding me to this moment while his eyes hold mine steady. "About how I feel for you, to all our friends, family, and whatever random ass people responded to the online invite Salem may or may not have posted to the high school's social media pages."

That gets a watery laugh out of me, the tears I'd been battling finally spilling onto my flushed cheeks.

His thumbs brush away my tears as he continues, "It's unfair that I should get a choice in coming out when you didn't." I open my mouth to tell him for the umpteenth time that I've forgiven him, but he holds up a hand to stop me. "I know we've already said our sorries and moved past it, so I won't apologize again. But I want everyone to know I'm in love with you, Huckslee Davis. And I'm proud to call you mine."

My hand raises to grip the back of his neck before I crash my mouth to his, kissing him with every ounce of love and passion I can muster. A roar comes from the crowd, but I barely register their presence, every synapse and neuron entirely focused on the man in my arms, kissing me back with so much fervor and reverence that I nearly drop to my knees.

Which, in fact, is exactly what Taylor does. Well, he drops to one knee in particular. The entire gym goes silent with a gasp. He looks up at me from under his lashes, and my stomach drops into my ass right before this motherfucker giggles. Actually giggles.

"I'm just tying my shoe. What the hell are you all thinking?"

Relief crashes into me as a few laughs and groans come from the people watching, none louder than our best friends and my dad, who are gaping at him as equally horrified as I am.

" Taaaylor-uh! "

"For real, what is wrong with you, fool?"

"I was about to be so pissed that I didn't bring my camera for this!"

He snorts, pushing to his feet with his hands raised. "It was a joke. A joke . Calm the fuck down."

I haul him to my chest, nuzzling my nose into his hair while I will my heart to slow down. "I seriously almost shit myself, Jesus Christ."

"Don't worry, I'm not ready to be a football wife yet," his shoulders shake with laughter, and I pull back to squint at him.

"Yet?"

He sobers quickly, realizing the slip as his cheeks pinken. "I-I mean, not right now, obviously, because we're only like twenty-two, almost twenty-three. That's super young for marriage, you know? If we even want that. Like, maybe in ten years? Unless...unless that's too long for you– "

"Just shut up, Taylor." I pull him in for another kiss, smiling against his lips when he sighs. We melt into each other, intertwining until the very imprint of his spirit becomes forever entangled with mine.