Page 44 of One-Time Shot

I liked that about him. We could share pieces of our pasts like odd-shaped rocks we’d found at the beach, put them into our pockets, and move on. It didn’t feel heavy or strange.

Maybe I was slow, but it didn’t occur to me till after we’d rolled around naked in my bed for an hour or so that I was the one doing all the sharing. That wasn’t Malcolm being secretive either. That was me cluing in that I wasn’t in the habit of asking about other people’s lives.

Or…more accurately, I wasn’t in the habit of letting anyone in.

But Malcolm was already in. I wondered how that had happened so fast.

I flung my leg over his and set a hand on his bare hip. “What about you?”

“What about me?” he countered.

“Tell me something I don’t know. How did your family react when you came out?”

Malcolm pulled his glasses off and cleaned them on the edge of the sheet. “I don’t think I’ve ever officially come out. My sexuality isn’t important to them.”

I frowned. “They’ve never asked if you’ve met someone or if it’s serious? Have you ever brought anyone home?”

“No, they wouldn’t ask intrusive questions, and I’ve never brought anyone home. I’ve neverhadanyone to bring home.”

“No boyfriends.”

He snickered. “Not the kind I’d introduce to my family.”

A spark of jealousy hit me out of the blue.Whoa.

“Oh. So…they know and accept you without any conversation at all.”

“Correct,” he confirmed.

“Haven’t you ever had an awkward, ‘Sorry, I bat for the other team’ moment with a cute girl making goo-goo eyes at you?”

Malcolm gave a wry smile. “I can’t recall, but…that’s not my definition of awkward.”

“I’ll bite. What’s your definition?”

“Being unprepared for a lecture, doing poorly on a test because I studied the wrong chapter?—”

I huffed in disbelief. “Have any of those things ever happened?”

“No, but if they did, it would be awkward.”

I busted up. “Try again. Everyone has an awkward moment. Gimme something.”

“All right. Um…I walked in on Layla and her ex-girlfriend kissing. I embarrassed them, and that was awkward. And if you were to count the many times I’ve tripped or fumbled whilst in a state of agitation, I suppose that was awkward. But those instances are based on action. Something done rather than something that simply is. I’m gay. That’s not awkward, it just is. I’m not responsible for anyone’s opinion of me. If they feel awkward because they thought I was someone I’m not, that would be their problem, not mine.”

Okay, maybe that was Self-love Wisdom 101, but at that moment, it felt like the inspirational speech I’d needed to hear.

I took a good long look at the man in my bed continuing his version of embarrassingfaux pas—the time he put dog treats into his back pocket and got bitten in the butt by the family mutt, the time he attempted to bake medicinal brownies and added too much weed—and all I could think was,Damn, he’s so fucking brave, so damn cool.

Malcolm knew himself and accepted the parts of him that were different from others. He didn’t waste energy or time on unnecessary static.

God, I wished I were more like him.

I linked our fingers, unthinking, and kissed his knuckles. He paused midsentence, eyes alight with curiosity.

“I like you, Maloney.” I nipped his thumb to avoid any mushy confessions, adding, “Rewind and give me the deets on those pot brownies.”

He groaned but gamely launched into Layla’s hysterical account of Malcolm dancing on the coffee table, drawing “tattoos” of bunnies on his arms, and laughing till tears ran down his face.