1. Rowdy

1

ROWDY

Kess: Where are you?

Kess: How can my brand-new house be properly warmed when your hot ass is missing?

I smiled even as nerves burbled in my stomach. Cursing my pathetic heart, I tapped on the message field and went with my usual sass.

Me: You need a hottie for your housewarming.

Me: The naked guy in the next room needs a hole.

Me: Must I do everything?

His reply was satisfyingly immediate.

Kess: OMG. Spare me the details of your slutty ways.

Me: Whatever. You like my slutty ways.

Kess: Impressed is not the same as liking it.

Kess: Are you seriously missing my housewarming for some last-minute ass?

I’d contemplated skipping his party, but he’d noticed my absence, and that made my pathetic heart thump with foolish hope. The pull of his easy smile was simply too strong to resist, and I was a weak, weak man.

Me: Nah. I’m just running a little late.

Me: Save some of Mama Bash’s sangria for me.

Kess: She and her husband are already making out on the couch.

Me: I’ll be right over.

Kess: Drive safe.

Me:

There was no naked guy, of course, but for the better part of the last two years, Kessler and I had sustained a sort of ante-upping, back-and-forth flirtation that was entirely unserious. I blew out a guilty breath as I scrolled up to re-read our previous conversations—a steady thread of crass jokes and inappropriate innuendo.

Kess: Warwick invited me to an orgy at his bunkhouse.

Kess: What exactly does one wear to an orgy?

Me: Babes, do you not understand the purpose of an orgy?

Me: Hint: It’s to get naked as quickly as possible.

Kess: So...T-shirt and sweats?

Me: Exactly. And don’t bother with underwear.

Kess: Any tips for an orgy noob?

Me: Take the amount of lube and condoms you planned on bringing and double it.

Me: And if Roly shows up, kiss any thought of a Colt DP goodbye.

Me: That bitch is greedy.

Kess: Every friend group has their lovable slut, and I’m so glad that you’re ours.

Me: You’re welcome.

Me: If you’re going to have people work on your house at o’dark thirty, at least make sure that they’re hot.

Kess: Stop trolling for ass on my construction site.

Kess: It’s unbecoming.

Me: Sweet love, I don’t troll.

Me: I walk outside in my 3-inch inseams and God does the rest.

Kess: Wait. Are you holding out on me?

Kess: Where are my 3-inch inseams?

Me: In your dreams, Mr. Fancy Lawyer Man. In. Your. Dreams.

Kess: Rude.

Kess: I’m glad we’ll be neighbors soon.

Me: I’m not leaving my blinds open, you perv.

Kess: What if I ask nicely?

Me:

Lies, gossip, and more lies.

The real bitch of it was that I’d allowed our witty banter to fester into a sad little crush, which had now tragically snowballed into— gulp —love, possibly?

Pathetic .

I blamed this whole mess on Emery, Kess’s high school best friend. Two years ago, he had purchased the land next to my cousin’s wildlife preserve. Woody, of course, started a fight with the city boy, then promptly fell in love with him, and now they’re married. Before they were even engaged, Em’s family and friends folded us into their circle. Kess and I’d had instant chemistry, even though we were opposites in practically every way.

Kess was beautiful, like a vaguely European model with an old money haircut, and I was a scrawny, long-haired cowboy with a mostly secondhand wardrobe. Hell, he and Emery’d made their first million before they were old enough to buy the alcohol to celebrate it, and as of this morning, I had exactly twenty-seven dollars in my checking account. Kess was semiretired in his late thirties, while I was twenty-five and still trying to figure myself out.

Compared to what Kess brought to the table, my GED-earning, Wrangler-wearing ass barely even had a table, let alone anything to bring to it. Which is why I’d decided to pine after him from afar—a plan that woulda worked if Emery hadn’t gone and gifted Kess a section of his property a few months ago. Jackass .

I take that back. Emery was a great guy, and Woody loved him something fierce. Still, I now lived directly across from Kess’s architectural wet dream in a tiny cabin on my cousin’s preserve, shoveling shit from exotic game in exchange for a good wage and free rent.

Which is why I had been contemplating avoiding the housewarming in the first place.

I rechecked my phone and couldn’t help but smile at the fact that he missed me. Like I said, pathetic .

Fine. I’d go, but I was avoiding Mama Bash’s sangria.

There wasn’t any time to overthink it because Majorie headed my way, eyes wide with worry.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, reaching for her.

“Yes, I’m fine.” She pointed to my phone. “I’m sorry if I’ve kept you from anything.”

Marjorie, a very tall and very sweet trans girl from the after-school youth group I helped oversee, reminded me a lot of myself when I was her age, even though I identified as cis and gay. We both struggled against the belief that any extra attention was automatically a bother to the person showing us attention. I guiltily slipped my phone into my back pocket and then pulled her in for a hug.

“Sweetheart, you couldn’t drag me from this building. I just had to take care of something real quick, but there’s no way I’d miss your special day.”

Rather than the illicit hookup I’d texted to Kess, I was surrounded by kids and their adults in the cafeteria of an alternative high school for their spring graduation.

Marjorie had hidden her gender from her parents, but then one of her bullies from her old high school took a picture of her wearing a skirt and put it out on social media, basically outing her to her entire community. Her parents kicked her out, but her great-uncle and his husband invited her to stay with them.

That was another similarity Marjorie and I shared. After my parents had put me out for kissing a boy, it was my cousin Woody who checked in on me and made sure I wasn’t homeless. As much as I jokingly blamed him and Em for my current predicament, I was genuinely thrilled when they fell in love.

Even with the support of her uncles, Marjorie’s path hadn’t been an easy one. She’d struggled in her classes after being kicked out, which is what led to her attending the after-school group. We helped her find an alternative high school that was a much better fit. Not only was she able to take several of her classes online, but they also had a cosmetology track that enabled her to graduate with a certificate and a job.

The ceremony had been short and meaningful, and when the administrator called out Marjorie’s name, her uncles and I wept. Texas wasn’t a great place to be trans right now, but so many educators, especially in alternative spaces, had stepped up and proven to be secret badass warriors. They helped these vulnerable kids find their place in the world, and it gave me hope.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you to your friend’s party?” I asked, torn between my responsibility as a mentor and my loyalty to Kess.

She gave me major stank face. “Sorry, no old people allowed.”

Her uncles laughed while my mouth dropped open.

“I’m in my prime, I’ll have you know. You would be lucky to have me at a party. In fact, I’m missing my friends housewarming party for this.”

“ Oh . A housewarming party,” she snarked. “That’s not old at all.”

“I’m not sure who’s teaching you all this sass, young lady, but I am not the one.”

We stared at each other for a second, then broke into snorts and giggles. I had been her mentor in more ways than one.

Pulling her in for another hug, I said, “Go, have fun at your youthful house party.”

Marjorie sniffed. “Thank you for coming to watch me graduate.”

“Of course, sweetheart. And don’t think for a second that you’re rid of me now.”

“Oh nooo,” she cracked. “Whatever will I dooo?”

“Brat.”

“I learned from the best.”

The four of us hugged one last time, then parted as she joined her friends. I smiled as I walked out to my truck. She’d been one of the first kids I’d mentored in the youth group, and as hard as it was sometimes to work with these kids, days like this made it all worth it.

As I approached my truck, one of the fathers from the ceremony intercepted me.

“Hey,” he said with the kind of up down look I’d grown very familiar with.

Nervous, I sent him my best smile. “Hey, yourself.”

“What are you doing tonight? Can I buy you a drink somewhere?”

I held up my phone. “If I don’t get to my friend’s housewarming party, he will never forgive me.”

“Mind if I get your number, then?”

“Sure, sweetie.”

I gave him my throwaway Google number, then we got into our separate vehicles. I watched him leave as I put on my seat belt and then lowered my forehead to the steering wheel.

He was hot, but he clearly only wanted one thing.

Blech .

No, thank you.

My phone dinged again. I smiled when I checked the screen. Skylar . He was one of my very best friends and the keeper of all my secrets.

Skylar: How’d the ceremony go?

Skylar: Did you cry?

Me: Yes, bitch. Of course I cried. My little girl graduated.

Skylar: I’ve met Marjorie. She’s, like, six four in stocking feet.

Me: You know what I mean.

Skylar: Is Kessie upset that you’re running late to his party?

I laughed and sent him screen caps of our conversation.

Skylar: Oooh, girl. He’s got it bad.

Me: Whatever.

Skylar: Did you not see how jealous he sounded?

Me: Girl.

Skylar: GIRL.

Me: This little conversation is making me even later.

Me: And the Bashes brought their sangria.

Skylar: I need to try that one of these days.

Me: Careful. That shit’ll make you question your sexuality.

Me: I’ve heard Mama Bash does excellent strap work, though.

Skylar: Don’t tease me with a good time, Virginia.

I rolled my eyes.

Me: I’m driving away now.

Skylar: Okay. Text me when you get in safe.

Me:

I checked the time and cursed under my breath. There was a time when I thought Woody was the only person in the world who cared whether I lived or died, but I was coming around to the fact that a whole lot of people cared for and depended on me. As stressful as that could be, I was a lucky, lucky man.

Who was running late for a very important party.