Page 6 of Only You

FIVE

“Carrie is a wonderful student, Mrs. Sutton. And I understand and sympathize with her over this whole situation, but she cannot throw a basketball at Katie’s head.”

“Well, you do know that Carrie is the head cheerleader at your school and extremely popular. She’ll be missed more than most during her suspension.”

I try to do breathing techniques as I talk to the parent of one of my most vapid students.

It’s honestly not even Carrie’s fault—I can say that after meeting with Mrs. Sutton last week, when Carrie threw a basketball at what was her best friend for kissing her boyfriend the night before, according to Carrie.

Katie, the other student, vehemently denies it ever happened.

But like I said after meeting with Mrs. Sutton last week and explaining that Carrie would have to be suspended for a week and talking to her on the phone today, I’m not sure Carrie even had a chance.

Vapid creates vapid.

“But Katie should have been suspended too. No one would even miss her!” the grown woman screeches in my ear, and I find myself staring at the clock on my office wall, wondering how long I need to stay on the phone to placate this woman.

“Several witnesses to the incident claimed that Katie did nothing to provoke Carrie, nor did she react physically in any way. So unfortunately, Carrie will be suspended for the full week, but she’s welcome back after that, as long as she doesn’t resort to physical violence again.

” I’m quickly losing my patience but rein it in.

“If we have another incident though, she’ll be expelled. ”

“I cannot believe you! Do you know who my husband is?”

And here we go. She tried this at our in-person meeting too. Her husband owns a local car dealership, and yes, they do donate to the school occasionally, but that doesn’t mean they get to rule my school. I let her rant for a little while longer before finally, politely hanging up.

I let out a heavy sigh just as I hear a slight knock on my door. It’s not closed at the moment, and when I look up, I see Tatum’s large body standing there. He’s holding up a paper bag with two drinks in his other hand, a sly smile on his gorgeous face.

The warmth I feel just seeing him is a little unsettling.

I remember the first time I saw Tatum. I was terrified and hurting from the abuse I’d suffered at the hands of my mother’s boyfriend.

I wanted my mom—even though she wasn’t much of a mother—but was told that I might have to stay at the group home they brought me to for a little while.

A little while turned into years in the system, but I didn’t know that yet.

I was covered in filth and looking around at the bunk beds that were situated in the large room the social worker had brought me to when I noticed Tatum. I was only nine, almost ten, way too small for my age, malnourished, and just small in stature. And there was thirteen-year-old Tatum.

He was huge. I didn’t know he was thirteen until we talked later.

I thought he was an adult at first but then came to realize he was just another kid like me.

Stuck in a home where he didn’t want to be.

He was watching me closely that day, and for whatever reason, that made me tilt my chin up and lift my shoulders—a smile I didn’t feel taking over my face.

I didn’t want to appear weak. I didn’t want to look scared. I held my head high, and then as soon as the social worker was gone, it was Tatum who scooped me up under his wing and showed me around. He told me it was going to be okay.

No one messed with me as soon as he was at my side. I felt safe and protected for the first time in my life.

Because he was there.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him, the smile overtaking my face at just seeing him here in my office.

“I thought you could use some lunch.” He doesn’t move from his spot in the doorway though, waiting for my permission.

I wave him in immediately. “That’s so thoughtful of you. Lunch would be great.”

He walks into my office, his body large yet somehow graceful as he moves to the chair across from me, sitting down and then handing me one of the sodas.

He shuffles through the bag, handing me a sub sandwich.

“I wasn’t sure what you would want or what vegetarians eat, so I just got you a veggie sub. ”

I grin, taking the sandwich from him. “That’s perfect. Thank you.” My heart warms, thinking about him caring enough about me not eating meat.

“Hey, you fed me last night. Had to repay the favor. Though I can’t cook, even if my life depended on it.”

“But you order subs like nobody’s business, right?” I say, unwrapping the sandwich.

He winks at me, and my heart nearly seizes up in my chest. And it barely recovers in time to watch him open his mouth and take a monstrous bite of his sub.

His mouth, like the rest of him, is just massive, and I become entranced in watching him eat for far too long.

When he realizes I’m not eating and watching him, he stops. “What’s the matter? Is it okay?”

I startle a little at being caught staring but try to recover, bringing the sandwich up to my mouth with shaky hands. “Nothing. Sorry.”

He shrugs it off, taking another bite and chewing before nodding toward the phone on my desk. “That call seemed a little intense.”

I take a bite and groan at the taste of fresh homemade bread and fresh veggies. I chew carefully and then take a drink to wash it down. “That’s just a typical Tuesday around here.”

He grins, taking another bigass bite and chewing. “Can’t imagine dealing with teenagers all day. I love Cason and Rae, but there’s no way in hell I could do that.”

I smile at his admission of love for those kids. Though I could already see it at dinner the other night. “I mostly love it. The worst part, I swear, is dealing with the parents.”

“I can see that,” he says, his eyes gleaming, and I get lost in them for a second.

I’ve known I was gay for quite some time—my awakening sitting right here in front of me.

It was painfully awkward when I was going through puberty—getting shuffled around from home to home, not really knowing who the hell I was or who I even wanted to be.

And then Tatum showed up in my life again—looking like a god.

I’d never felt attraction like that before.

I’d felt fondness from him since the day I met him, but this was something different.

Something I didn’t quite understand and something I didn’t dare speak about.

By that time, Tatum had a lot of girlfriends and had no problem talking openly about the girls he dated.

I wasn’t sure how he’d respond if he knew I’d never once experienced attraction around a female but that I couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like if he would kiss me.

That was during the brief time we were in the same home and were in the same school, so I got to see a lot of him.

Even when he was moved to another house, we went to the same school.

But then I had to change schools when they moved me to a home in another district and soon after that, my life changed forever.

We finish up lunch, and I’m already feeling the dread coming for me as he prepares to leave. I think he must be feeling it too because as he throws away his trash, he looks over at me curiously. “It’s been really good to get to know you again, Remy.”

I swallow hard, emotions swamping me because I wanted to forget about him but never have. I always wondered if he was okay. I wanted this chance, and now it seems like I have it. “It has been. I’m glad we ran into each other again,” I say honestly.

“Me too.” I like how confident he is, but I hear a hint of insecurity as he leans on the edge of my desk, facing me. “What are you doing tonight? Wanna get together?”

Yes.

Immediately, my answer is yes, but then I remember a prior... commitment.

“Um . . . Oh. I want to . . .”

His face falls immediately, and it’s almost too endearing. Tatum is this huge, muscled, tattooed guy, but he wears his emotions right there in his expression. Always has. I think it’s why I was never actually afraid of him. “You already have plans.”

It’s not a question, but I nod anyway. “Yeah, um, sort of. I do tonight. Yeah.” Wow, stumble through words more, why don’t you, Remy?

He looks almost shy now when he asks, “Like a date?”

I clear my throat awkwardly, not really sure how to approach this.

I probably should just say yes, but instead the whole truth just sort of spills from my mouth.

“Not really a date. I mean, I guess some people could call it a date, but I don’t really date.

” Okay, so the awkward, bumbling truth with no explanation falls from my mouth.

“It’s more of a hookup. An app. I use this app.

To hook up with guys.” His eyebrow raises which makes my eyes nearly bulge out of my head at surprise at my own admission.

Not that I’m in the closet. I’m out and proud.

Have been since my freshmen year of college.

.. but I don’t think Tatum knew that about me.

“I’m gay,” I say quickly. “I mean, I don’t know if you know that or not, but it’s not something I’m ashamed of or that I hide.

Not that you have any reason to actually know that.

.. unless you’re an asshole and just assum?—”

“Remy.” I realize he’s gotten closer to me when his big hand lands on my shoulder and he says my name, snapping me out of my rambling. “Breathe.”

And for whatever reason, I actually listen to him, pulling air into my lungs and then slowly releasing it. “Sorry,” I say awkwardly.

“Do you think I’d have any problem with you being gay?” He’s not mocking me or making light of it. He seems to be quite concerned by the prospect of me thinking that of him.

“No. I just...” I take another deep breath and release it. “I wanted to put that out there. I mean, I know you had a lot of girlfriends...”

He smirks. “Probably too many. And I’m not really sure many of them qualified as girlfriends. They were girls I hung out with.”

“And slept with,” I add.

“Not a lot of sleeping went on.” He winks at me, and I snort out a laugh.

“My best friend in the world has a boyfriend. I don’t care how anyone identifies.

Actually, that’s not true.” I cock a brow at him in surprise but let him finish.

“I care. It matters. I’m glad you told me you’re gay.

And you’re right. It’s not something to be ashamed of.

” He squeezes my shoulder. “Be proud of who you are, Remy.”

I smile. “I bet not a lot of people know you’re a big softie.”

He flexes his massive—and I do mean massive —bicep at me and then winks yet again. “Nothing soft about me.” I get lost for a moment, just staring at that inked arm with bulging muscle and so much girth I’m not sure I could get my two hands fully wrapped around it, my mouth suddenly going dry.

“Remy?”

Finally, I pull my eyes up and off his glorious arm, meeting his eyes. “Yeah?”

“You okay?” He looks relaxed now as he sits perched on the edge of my desk.

“Yeah. Fine. I’m fine. But anyway, yeah... I do have plans tonight.”

“But not a date. A hookup.” He seems to be talking himself through what I told him, but I don’t really see any judgment there. Maybe a little bit of concern though.

“I don’t date, Tatum,” I say firmly, trying to hold my head up high with conviction.

“Why not?”

I look at him, old memories starting to bubble up.

I try to force them away, but with the subject and the person sitting right in front of me, it’s almost too hard.

“I just don’t. I love my life. I’m happy and settled.

App hookups allow me to have control. To hook up with a total stranger and never see them again. ”

“That seems dangerous,” he says, and I can feel his worry.

“I’m safe, I promise.” I’m uncomfortable with the subject though. I don’t want him to dig too deep. I don’t want to go any further into it, and I start to fidget in my chair. Silently begging him not to.

“What about tomorrow?” I look at him in surprise.

“Tomorrow?”

He nods his head, watching me carefully. “Are you free tomorrow night to hang out?”

I smile, relief washing over me. “Yes. I’m free.”

He looks pleased at that, standing up from his spot on my desk. “Okay. Your place? Six?”

“Sounds good,” I say, knowing we’re probably just tabling this discussion for now and that it could come back up, but I’m still relieved.

“See you then, Remy,” he says before walking out of my office with that confident stride, his big body graceful and beautiful as he makes his exit.

Honestly, no part of me even wants to go out and meet a stranger tonight. I only want to be with Tatum.

And that’s exactly why I need to go.