Page 7 of Fanboy in the Falls (Devon Falls #3)

But then Lou developed a love for tutus, and Dave blamed me for that, and he started to say meaner and nastier things to me, and since then I’ve spent so many hours wondering if I should take the risk and tell someone what’s really going on: how often Dave just disappears and leaves Lou with me, how bigoted and terrible Dave sounds when he talks to me now, how worried I am that he’ll start saying the same kinds of things to Lou.

But that risk just seems too dangerous, too huge.

Dave is Lou’s dad, and I’m just his older brother with an arrest record I’m not proud of.

What if I said something to someone and Dave ended up taking Lou away from me permanently?

Or worse, what if Lou ended up all alone in foster care, just like I did when Dave left me behind in Connecticut?

And then there are all these feelings about butts that I can’t even do anything about, because who knows what Dave would do if he ever found out I might like guys.

Treading water gets harder and harder when every move you make has the chance to sink you down into the water. Just for a moment, I wonder: would it be easier to stay here? In the stillness?

And then something tugs at my arm. Someone tugs at my arm.

I let the force pull me until my head bursts through the surface.

Sounds come at me from all sides now: birds chirping at the feeder closest to the water, wind whistling gently in the trees.

Tom’s holding onto my arm as he treads water next to me.

I gasp in quick breaths as my body readjusts to having access to air again.

Tom tows me to the surface and keeps his hand on my arm, and we both step out of the water and up onto the grassy shore that Evelyn’s lined with inviting Adirondack chairs.

I feel like I could fall into one now and sleep for a week.

“Little one, did you honestly just dive face-first into that open water?” Tom asks incredulously.

I can’t tell if he’s angry or laughing at me—maybe something in between?

I run a quick survey of my body, and I’m happy to note that the cold shock of water did what I originally needed it to do: my erection is gone, and my poor dick has tucked itself between my legs.

It’s probably terrified I’m going to throw myself off a building if it decides to go rogue like that again.

“I’m fine,” I tell Tom in between breaths. “Just needed to… um… cool off.”

He arches an eyebrow. “From all that cold water a pipe just spit at us?”

“The crawlspace was hot!” I insist, but it's September in Vermont right now, and while the air isn’t exactly chilly, it’s not stifling either. Tom just cocks his head at me.

And then he leans. Just a little bit. Just ever so slightly into the space where I’m standing, unable to take my gaze off of his.

His shoulder-length dirty blond hair is curling in wet waves, his lips are bright, pink, and slightly chapped, and I can feel myself memorizing every crack in them the closer he comes.

Is he going to kiss me? No. No way. Movie stars like Tom Evers don’t kiss nobody inn workers who jump into lakes without warning.

The cold water must have shocked my brain.

Tom brushes droplets of water off my forehead. “You scared the bejesus out of me, little one,” he mutters. “You just dropped into the water and didn’t come back up.”

I wish I could lie and tell him that he imagined it; that I wasn’t under for as long as he thinks I was.

But I remember the intense calm of being underneath that water: the quiet, cold nothingness.

It’s a kind of peace that doesn’t exist in many places in my life.

“Sorry I scared you,” I finally say instead.

“You should be, love.” He brushes more wet hair back from the side of my forehead. My heartbeat speeds up slightly, and he takes a tiny step closer to me. My own feet slip against the ground beneath my soaked sneakers, but I manage to stay still this time.

I should stay still, right? Because this can’t really be happening.

“Gabe,” Tom murmurs. He moves slightly again, and now our faces are only inches apart, his chest nearly bumping against mine.

His hands are warm as he places them on my shoulders, and his breath is light against my cheek.

It smells like the cherry strudel he had for breakfast. “I’m just so glad you’re okay,” he finally says. “For a minute I thought…”

He tilts his face slightly, and I study his lips again.

What would it be like, I wonder, to have Tom Evers’ lips be the first ones that ever touch mine?

Would I even know what to do if he kissed me?

Would I move my lips the right way? Where do you put your tongue when you kiss someone, anyway?

My heart speeds up again, and then I do what I do best: I panic.

“I’m not into guys!” I yell loudly as I pull back away from him.

The lie feels like the cold, hard water of the lake as I smashed into it, abrupt and shocking as it brings me back to reality.

Because I know for sure now that those words are a lie; having Tom this close to me has definitely confirmed once and for all that I’m not straight.

But that doesn’t matter. Not with Dave’s presence looming from Rochester and Lou’s future hanging in the balance of every rumor that might ever travel to his father from Devon Falls. And I’ll lie every single day of my life to protect Lou.

“Oh.” Tom jerks back, suddenly, and his eyes go glassy and a little dark.

He shakes his head. “Of course. I overstepped. I seem to have quite the penchant for doing that. I’m so sorry, little one.

” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“I absolutely wouldn’t blame you if you hated me right now. ”

“No! Never!” I shake my head hard, determined to wipe that regretful expression off his face. Tom Evers never deserves to look that sad. Especially when all he tried to do was give me everything I’ve ever wanted in the world. “It’s not your fault,” I whisper. “Not your fault at all.”

Tom sighs. “I just don’t know how I keep—”

“Tom? Gabe? Where are you?”

Colin’s voice rolls through the air. Tom and I step apart like magnets turned to opposite forces. He wraps his arms around his chest. “We’re by the lake, bestie,” he says. And is it just me, or does his voice sound a little strangled?

Colin appears at the back lawn of the inn. “Oh, there you two are. Everything okay? I got that pipe fixed.”

“That’s good.” I blink and do my best to nod.

“That mayor of Devon Falls, you know the one with the rainbow hair?” Colin asks.

“Her name is Amelia, love,” Tom answers. But his eyes are locked on me. He never looks away, even as Colin keeps talking.

“She called. Said the town meeting this afternoon is all about the leaf festival, and Bethany and Evelyn are going to be updating everyone on the fire and what we’re doing with the renovation. They want us to come.”

It’s like I’m frozen in place, the wet, dirty bottoms of my sneakers sucking at the soles of my feet.

Tom swallows. “Yes, of course. Colin, let’s go back to your house so we can make ourselves more presentable. Gabe, will you be able to use the shower in the winery building?”

I nod jerkily.

“Wonderful. Let’s meet at my car in thirty minutes.”

He slogs across the lawn, and Colin announces that he’ll clean up our workspace before he showers. They both disappear from my view, leaving me standing at the edge of the lake, slowly sinking in muddy grass.