Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Louis swallows hard, and my stomach drops.
“But the golden boy also loved girls. He wanted his brother to have that same experience—chasing girls, getting attention, all of it. Only…the brother didn’t feel that way. And he didn’t know how to tell his perfect big brother. It was confusing and scary and lonely, until he finally understood…he was gay.” He pauses, his voice tight. “He was terrified. Terrified to tell the golden boy in case it changed everything. In case he lost his biggest supporter.”
He breathes in shakily. “Then the golden boy found out something else. Found out that a coach had been bullying his brother, threatening him, because he’d caught him kissing the boy he had fallen for. The coach said he’d out him if he didn’t…obey. It never became physical, but we both knew where it was headed.” Louis lifts his eyes and meets mine. “And just like he always did, that golden boy showed up. He protected his brother. Saved him. Loved him without question.” A tear falls over his lash line, and my eyes well as he holds my gaze. “Dawson was the only reason I didn’t give up and kept playing. Then my junior year, it happened again. Dawson was so pissed he couldn’t protect me, he started drinking to drown the feelings. As much as he tells me it’s not true, I know I’m the reason he didn’t go into the draft.”
“No, Louis,” I insist. “He was lost. He wasn’t ready. He was young.”
“True, but if I weren’t gay, he wouldn’t have worried—”
I hold up my hand. “No. No, sir, we aren’t doing this. That man,” I say, pointing down the hall, “loves you. Just the way you are. He loves Jennings, and he is proud of you and the man you love.”
Louis holds my gaze. “I’ve spent my whole life with him, only him. A girl has never gotten in the way or stolen his time the way you have. I’ve had my best friend, my brother, and my boyfriend all to myself, but now I’m sharing the one person who would kill for me with someone else, and it scares me.”
Shit. This can’t be good. “I’ll talk to him, tell him—”
Louis stands up straight, shaking his head. “No. Listen to me, Ro,” he pleads, his eyes burning into mine. He reaches out, taking my hand in his and squeezing tightly. “It scares me because I know he’s all in. You are it for him, which means you and I have to be besties now, and I’m scared you won’t want that.”
A tear slips out. “I don’t have siblings, I only have my mom and my tía, but Louis, I would love to be your bestie.”
His lips quirk as he pulls me into his arms, and I hug him tightly. “Please take care of him just like he has always cared for me. He’s so far gone for you that if you decided you didn’t want him, I’m pretty sure it would break him into a million pieces.”
I don’t know why I’m crying like this. “It would break me too.”
He squeezes me tighter, and we both exhale together. He pulls back, his green eyes still glossy and full of emotion. It’s easy to see how much he loves his brother, and I love that. I love how much the Sinclairs love and support one another without hesitation. It’s a beautiful thing, made more so when I know they’d do the same for me. The realization makes me want to scream from the rooftops how much I love Dawson, but I can’t until I tell him.
“Do you love him?”
My lip trembles as I hold the eyes of the brother of the man I love. My heart is pounding harder than ever as the silence engulfs the air around us. I thread my fingers with his, and in a quiet voice, I say, “Let me tell you my own story.”
His lips tip up, that same crooked little grin that always reminds me of Dawson—smug and stupidly heart-stealing. God, I adore it.
“There was a girl,” I begin softly, looking back to see if Dawson is still in his room. When I verify he is, I whisper, “Who met a boy on the night her father died. The worst night of her life…except for one impossible, shining moment. Him.”
His eyes widen as tears pool in my eyes.
“She prayed—or, really, begged—the universe for just one chance to explore what sparked between them. Because even in the middle of her deepest grief, he was the light she clung to. And she would walk through every ounce of that pain again if it meant she got to relive even a second of what she felt with him that night.”
Louis reaches for my hands, squeezing them in his large ones as a tear spills down my cheek. He exhales, and then with all the love in his eyes, he whispers, “Thank you for giving him a chance. I know he’s a lot.”