That night changed everything between us. We liked each other. A lot. In a relatively short amount of time, we’d become real friends and now lovers. And in spite of being faux boyfriends for his project, we were a separate entity in private. No one knew about us. Honestly, I kind of liked the element of intrigue. If Derek asked what I was up to, I said I was working on a “project”. But truthfully, the project was just an excuse to be with Mitch.

I knew he was being graded on our content, but he didn’t talk about it. It would have felt strange to feel as though any part of our conversations were rated or analyzed. Mitch was mine. I didn’t want to know if anyone believed we were real. He was real to me. Moreover, he was important to me.

I liked the lilting cadence of his voice, his mischievous smile, and his uncanny attention to detail. He could be serious or silly depending on the situation, but he was always upbeat and fun to be with. And the sex was, quite honestly, the best I’d ever had. Tender kisses quickly escalated to fiery and passionate ones. We pulled at clothing and fumbled with belts and zippers with our mouths fused in an effort to get naked and horizontal as fast as possible.

Mitch was lithe and sure. He moved like a dancer and had the confidence of a gymnast walking a tightrope. But he was sensitive to my inexperience. Or maybe he was gun-shy. Sometimes, I got the impression his breakup with Rory made him cautious. My status as a bi, not quite out of the closet athlete didn’t work in my favor. I wanted to change that, though. I wanted him to be as crazy about me as I was for him. And I wanted to spend all my free time with him.

Since he was equally busy, we met after school or practice. If I got out early enough, I’d swing by whatever game he was cheering. But most of the time we did mundane things like meet for coffee or study or cruise the aisles of the local Whole Foods together. We’d walk side by side with our shoulders brushing while we discussed anything from our favorite kinds of cheeses and breakfast cereals to delicacies we wanted to try from other countries.

I fell for him a little more every day. He was so easy to be with, and he laughed at all my dumb jokes. Within a few short weeks, I went from feeling like an explorer in new territory to being part of something much bigger than me. I wasn’t alone here. I could tell by the way Mitch looked at me sometimes with pink cheeks and a dreamy expression that he felt it too. Butterflies and all.

We didn’t waste time wondering if this was smart. We enjoyed it, so we went for it. All the damn time. At first, I was careful not to spend the night too often. I didn’t want to crowd him or ask for more than either of us was ready for, but I couldn’t stay away either. When I wasn’t with him, I was thinking about what we’d do later. I texted silly questions to be in contact during the day. What was for dinner? How’d you do on your test? What position do you want to try tonight? You know, the usual.

What do you know about modern art? I typed before making my way across the grass toward the Humanities building in late October.

The sun filtered through the orange leaves of the amber trees outside in the quad. I loved autumn. Falling leaves, holidays, football season. And Southern California was particularly beautiful this time of year. The days might be shorter, but the mild weather made up for it. My mind wandered to the upcoming weekend just as my phone buzzed in my hand a few seconds later.

A lot. What do you need to know?

I grinned at the screen. Everything important between 1900 and 1960.

Mitch responded with a slew of laughing emojis. That could take all night.

I guess I better sleep over.

Pjs optional. See you later.

I stuffed my phone into my back pocket and raced up the stairs, pulling the glass door open just as someone called my name. Nicole waved her hands above her head. “Hey, Evan! Just the guy I was hoping to see!”

“Hi, there.” I pasted a smile on my face and hooked my thumb behind me. “I gotta run. I’m late to class and—”

“Me too. And mine is two buildings over,” she said with a half laugh. She combed a manicured finger through her hair and bit her bottom lip in a move I should have thought was sexy. “I’ll be quick. I’m not sure if you know this, but my parents are alumni and they’ve offered to host a fundraiser after the qualifier game. The invitation is open to everyone on the team, but my dad specifically asked if you could be there.”

“Why?”

“He played quarterback and his best friend played your position. His buddy is going to be there too and…it would just be a cool legacy story. I’ve already asked Christian. He said yes. Think about it and let me know.”

Fuck me. I couldn’t think of an excuse to miss both without sounding like a dick. I stared at her for a moment then nodded. “Sure. I can stop by.”

“Awesome!” She threw her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek before turning for the door.

I stared after her for a second and wondered if I’d been set up. Nah. An alumni event was perfectly harmless. I’d been honest a month ago when I told her I wasn’t available. And she probably wasn’t interested now anyway. It was a school function. Nothing to worry about.

When I mentioned Nicole’s invitation to Mitch later that night, he gave me a long, hard stare that clearly said, “Boy, someone must have dropped you on your head.” Then he went quiet. He propped his book on his knees, turned the page, and resumed studying.

“So you think she’s got an ulterior motive?” I asked, plucking his book away and tossing it on the nightstand.

Mitch scowled. “I have no idea, Evan. That’s up to you to figure out. Can I have my book, please?”

“No. This is important. Are you mad at me?”

“Of course not. But I’m not going to discuss how you should deal with your admirers. That’s up to you.”

I sat next to him on the bed and pushed my leg between his open thighs. “She’s not a present tense admirer. I told her I’m with you and—”

“No, you told her you were seeing someone. Not the same.”

I set my hand on his chin and lightly brushed my thumb across his stubbled jaw. “Baby, look at me. I’m trying to be honest. I don’t want to have any secrets.”

“But you are a secret. You can never really be honest if you have secrets.”

“I don’t like secrets,” I said.

Yeah, it was lame, but I couldn’t give him an ETA on coming out. I knew it would happen, but I wanted to do it the right way this time. I couldn’t fuck it up and risk losing what I had now.

“Me either. Even when it’s no one else’s business, something gets screwed up.”

“Or someone gets screwed over. Like the time I put gum in my cousin’s hair and let my brother take the blame.” I made a funny face to lighten the mood.

Mitch rolled his eyes. “That’s a different kind of secret.”

“Yeah, but he got in trouble for it. I didn’t fess up until years later when I was in the hospital and nothing mattered anymore anyway.”

“Why were you in the hospital?”

So much for lightening the mood. I was normally pretty good at brushing over that time in my life. A flippant reply about an accident and a quick change of topic worked with most people. Somehow I knew it wouldn’t work with Mitch.

“I was in an accident my senior year of high school. It was bad. Broken bones and a punctured spleen.”

“Oh. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“Me too. I missed a lot of school, lost a scholarship…but I was lucky. Someone died.” I waited a beat, then added, “Graham.”

Mitch gasped. “Your boyfriend?”

“No. I told you he wasn’t my boyfriend. We just…fooled around. The more we did, the more we wanted to do. But there was so much shame and awkwardness, and it built up every time we were together. He hated himself and then he hated me. And I didn’t know how bad it was. If I did, I would have left it alone and saved coming out for college. But I thought I could make a difference if I was honest.”

“You planned on coming out?”

“Yeah. I was going to do a video,” I huffed derisively.

“Like mine.”

“Yes, but just one blast to get it out there and be done. Boom. Things were over between Graham and me by then. On one hand, I understood. He was scared. I was too, but I knew my folks would be cool, and I just wanted to be…honest. I was tired of feeling so alone. I didn’t buy into the shame the way Graham did. I didn’t get how it was possible to feel good with someone one minute and then dirty twenty minutes later. I wanted to know more about who I was, and Graham was my only real frame of reference. So I made a plan.

“I didn’t want to blindside him. The problem was, he wouldn’t talk to me at school anymore, and he avoided me at practice. I asked one of the guys to drop me off at the park by his house. Graham agreed to meet me and drive me home and…anyway, I told him about my coming-out video. I made it clear it was only about me. I wouldn’t name him or mention anything about him, but…he went bonkers. I backed down right away and told him not to worry, ’cause he was shaking and upset. He was driving and I told him to pull over, but he wouldn’t and…” I sat up abruptly and swallowed around the bile in my throat. “I really don’t know what happened. It was dark. No moon. We were on the freeway. I remember passing the Rose Bowl exit and then…nothing. I woke up in the ICU and…Graham was dead.”

Mitch sat up and pulled me into his arms. He held on tightly and didn’t ease up until he felt me give in and relax against him. I listened to his heartbeat and smelled the soap on his skin.

When he spoke again, his voice was choked with emotion.

“I’m so sorry, Ev. That’s a nightmare.”

“Yeah, it was. It was surreal and awful. I was banged up and bruised, but I was still alive. Graham wasn’t. I’ll never get over that. I remember lying in the hospital bed. The police had just left. They’d asked a million questions about what happened while my mom held my hand. They were trying to make sense of why he’d lost control. And I couldn’t tell anyone it was because I wanted to come out.”

“Fuck, that’s heavy.” He wiped a tear from his eye and frowned. “You know it’s not your fault.”

“I know that now, but at eighteen…let’s just say, I was a mess for a while.” I let out a humorless half laugh. “I had full-on PTSD. I could hardly process what had happened. I missed months of school. I lost everything. My plans to go to Berkeley for football were gone. I wasn’t sure I could go to college at all. And everyone kept saying, ‘You’re still alive,’ like that was so fucking great. Graham was gone, his family was devastated, our team was broken. So, yeah. I felt guilty. And selfish and very fucking confused. You know, his dad used to come see me in the hospital. When he thought I was asleep, he’d talk to me. Pray for me. Tell me God loved me. And I was gonna be all right.” I blinked back tears at the memory.

“His parents knew he was gay all along,” Mitch said in a hushed tone.

“Yeah, I think so. And mine probably knew it too. But I didn’t want to talk about it. I lay there with my eyes closed, thinking if this was what being bi was all about, I didn’t want anything to do with it. So much shame and pain and sadness. I figured it was just a matter of controlling myself. If I was bi, so be it. But I was never going to touch a man ever again so there’d never be a reason to tell anyone. My friends didn’t need to know. My parents didn’t need to know. Fuck coming out.” I brushed his hair from his forehead and smiled. “I got pretty good at pushing away anything that had to with that night, including a major part of who I am. I don’t feel that way anymore. It took me five years to get here. It feels amazing. So thank you.”

Mitch’s bottom lip trembled. He threw his arms around my neck and held on tight. “God, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too, baby. Now you know everything about me. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

He considered me for a long moment before replying. “I’m afraid of being alone. I don’t know what I’ll do when my grandmother dies. Her health isn’t great and…no one lives forever. When that day comes, I’ll really be on my own.”

“No, you won’t. You’ll have me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Mitch wiped a tear at the corner of his eye and smiled. “You say you’re not romantic, but sometimes you come up with the best lines, Ev.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I brushed my nose against his and kissed him tenderly. I could taste a hint of toothpaste on his breath as I cupped the back of his neck and angled my chin slightly to deepen the connection. He pulled me on top of him, hiking his legs around my waist and holding me close. We made out for a minute or two, lost in soft sighs and tangled limbs. I loved the press of his chest against mine, but my dick throbbed against my zipper. I had to lose some clothing fast. I kneeled between his thighs and pushed my jeans and boxer briefs over my ass, bracing my weight on the headboard to pull the denim off.

“I want to be inside you.”

Mitch nodded like a puppet, shoving his workout pants down his legs and whipping his T-shirt off his head before reaching for supplies in the nightstand drawer. I slid a condom on in record time and grabbed the lube from him before he could uncap it.

“What are you doing?”

“I want to try something. Lie back. Please.”

I waited for him to obey, then bent over to suck his dick. He’d been on the receiving end of a fair amount of blowjobs recently, so he had to know this wasn’t the ‘something’ I wanted to try. He didn’t question me, though. He lifted his hips while I sucked and licked. When I went a little farther south than usual, he propped himself on his elbows to see what I was doing. We held eye contact just as I flattened my tongue and licked his hole.

“Oh, my God. Are you really—”

“Relax and enjoy. I can’t do this for long or I’ll explode. Just…let me try. Rim job, right?”

Mitch’s nostrils flared appreciatively in a lusty acknowledgment of the conversation we had months ago. “Ha. Yeah—oh…wow.”

I licked him again and again, teasing the sensitive skin with the tip of my tongue as he writhed beneath me. I sat back abruptly, grabbed the lube and slipped one finger inside him and then another. When he wiggled suggestively, I set my sheathed cock over his entrance and slowly made my way inside him.

We made love for the first time that night. I could say that because I knew for a fact that I’d never done it before in my life. There was meaning behind every sigh and push and pull. We moved with a harmony that reminded me of beautiful lyrics to my favorite songs. Deep kisses, soft moans, and roving hands.

The tempo steadily grew to something more urgent. When he raked his fingers down my back and raised his hips insistently, I took the hint. I drove inside him, thrusting wildly as I bit his lower lip and sucked on his tongue. A tingle of awareness trickled along my spine. I didn’t have much time, but I didn’t want to go under alone. I went perfectly still for a moment and stared into Mitch’s eyes.

“Come now.”

And that was all it took.

I roared with the force of my own orgasm as his cum shot between us. We held on to each other until the shaking stopped. Maybe a little longer.

It felt…amazing. Perfect. And as his breathing settled into an even cadence that matched my own, I was overwhelmed by who we were together.

Was this love?

In addition to our regularly scheduled lives, we were still filming videos for Mitch’s project. Our content was funny and original and although Mitch had a decent base of followers, I got the impression most of them were from his LGBTQ clubs and according to the feedback we’d received so far, no one believed we were for real. Chelsea and Derek knew about the project too, but they didn’t ask in-depth questions and I, for one, didn’t provide details. Truthfully, I rarely saw either of them. And I lived with Derek.

We were both in season, so I supposed it made sense, but I got the feeling we were avoiding each other too. I spent the night at Mitch’s almost every night. I’d swing by my house after practice, grab something to eat, and wait around till Mitch texted to say he was on his way home. Sometimes I’d leave a dish or cup out to make Derek crazy and remind him he still had a roommate before I headed out again. I thought he might be seeing someone new. When we did bump into each other, I noticed a dreamy look in his eyes that spoke volumes. Or maybe it was the telltale sound of sex in progress coming from his room. Squeaky bed springs and blissed-out moaning. He didn’t talk about it, and I didn’t ask. I just packed a change of clothes and hightailed it to Mitch’s.

Chelsea was different. She was Mitch’s best friend, and they weren’t the kind of buddies who tiptoed around awkward topics. They talked. They finished each other’s sentences and knew secrets no one else did. So while Derek only knew I was working on a “project,” Chelsea probably knew everything. I studied their hand motions and the way they walked across the grass with their shoulders brushing. If I hadn’t had my dick in his ass eight hours ago, I might have been jealous.

I couldn’t decide if it was ironic or just an odd coincidence that Chelsea was besties with the two people I was closest to: Mitch and Derek. Their friendships were totally different. Mitch and Chelsea hung out at parties while Derek and Chelsea were more likely to grab a cup of coffee. But they both adored her and confided in her. He hadn’t said so, but I figured Mitch told her about us. And I had to admit, it made me a little nervous to hang out with her.

Chelsea agreed to be our cameraperson for the “sport” segment Mitch wanted to film in the park. The plan was for me to show Mitch how to throw a football and for him to teach me a cheer or a cartwheel or something that hopefully wouldn’t require excess exertion. I’d just come from practice and I was exhausted.

I waved as they made their way to me. Chelsea held her arms wide and hugged me before twirling in a circle. She wore a long floral dress with Doc Martens and a wide-brimmed hat that somehow looked very stylish on her. Since we were filming, Mitch had been very specific about our wardrobe. I was instructed to wear dark workout clothes. Preferably black, which he claimed would look fabulous against the autumn foliage. I took a moment to eye his toned physique in his black leggings and matching pullover. Damn, he was sexy.

“Evan, your camera girl is here! Mitchy was just filling me in on his project so far. I’ve been swamped at work and school and haven’t watched a single episode yet, but I’m intrigued. Tell me what you want me to do,” she said, flinging her long, dark hair over her shoulder.

“Well, this guy’s the boss. Not me. Tell us what the plan is, Mitchy.” I cupped the back of his neck playfully and ran my fingers through his hair.

He pointed at the football on the picnic table and sighed. “Let’s get the hard part over with first. We’ll play football, and then we’ll do gymnastics. Ready?”

I held up a hand to stop him. “Yeah, but we’re not playing football, babe. I’m just going to teach you how to throw a tight spiral.”

Chelsea covered her mouth theatrically. “You called him ‘babe.’ Yes, I can already tell this is going to be good. So what do I do?”

“Um…” Mitch cast a flustered look at me before explaining what he wanted. “Basically, you just follow the action. No jerky movements, though. Keep it as smooth as possible.”

“Gotcha. I’ll set up the tripod while you two practice your moves. I have one hour, so we should probably concentrate on the action shots now.”

“That’s fine. We can handle the rest on our own,” Mitch said before turning to me. “So how do you throw a spiral…babe?”

I grinned like a madman and tossed the football in the air. “Step right this way. I’ll show you how it’s done. Grip the ball like so, turn sideways, pull your arm back, and release. But make sure you follow through in one fluid motion. If you don’t, the ball will wobble, you’ll lose speed, accuracy, and most likely, you’ll blow the play.”

“Blow the what?” he asked, fluttering his eyelashes flirtatiously.

Chelsea guffawed and held her hand up for a high five. I cast my gaze between them and put my hands on my hips. “All right, then.”

“Behave, you two,” Mitch chided before turning to me. “I’m going to skip to the outfield, so you can throw your balls to me.”

I chuckled and gave Chelsea a funny look but quickly sobered. I shouldn’t act so schmoopy in front of her. It was weird.

“Oh, come on, Ev. You know that I know you guys are doing the nasty. Why pretend?” Chelsea huffed.

I twisted the ball in my hands and motioned for Mitch to run farther before turning to her with a serious expression. “I like him. A lot.”

“Good. He likes you too.”

“Were you surprised?” I asked.

She lowered her giant sunglasses and fixed me with a pointed look. “Shocked. The world is upside down and sideways lately. I don’t get it. But he’s happy and I like you. Just be good to him, or you’ll be dealing with me.”

“Got it.”

“Good. When are you going to tell Derek?”

I pulled my arm back and fired it across the lawn to Mitch. “Soon. Why?”

“He’s your friend, and I’m friends with both of you and—he’ll be okay with this, you know. You can trust him.”

I adjusted my baseball cap and chuckled at Mitch’s antics when the ball hit his fingers and ricocheted off a nearby tree. Then I looked over my shoulder at Chelsea and inclined my head. “I know. We haven’t had a chance to talk yet. He’s either at school or practice. Or with Gabe. They spend a lot of time together.”

“They do, but you should still talk to him. Unless of course, this is a phase and you’re more curious than you are actually bi.”

“Is that what you think?” I scowled.

“No. I think you’re scared. Totally understandable. You’re a football player. People will react. Some positive, some negative. And quite a few will be very surprised. But it’s your life. You don’t own anyone’s reaction…just your own. Be happy. And make him happy,” she said, gesturing toward Mitch to let me know he was about to throw the ball back.

“Thanks.”

Mitch scampered to my side with the ball tucked under his left arm. He gave Chelsea a sign I assumed meant she could start filming before handing the ball to me. “Sorry. That sucked. What am I doing wrong?”

“It didn’t suck. That was pretty decent, actually. Let’s change it up. I’m gonna run into position, and you can throw it to me. Aim for halfway to that tree,” I instructed, pointing to a large oak fifty yards away. “Just watch where I run and let it rip. I’ll take it the rest of the way and run this baby into the end zone.”

Mitch looked down to fiddle with his grip. When he gave me a thumbs-up, I ran toward the next tree and turned. I started to retreat when I realized he hadn’t released the ball. There was no way he could throw it much farther and—

Suddenly the football whizzed by my head. I shot a wild-eyed look at him before racing after it. I caught it in midstride and kept running…and running. When I reached the huge oak, I spiked the ball the raised my arms victoriously. Then I ran back to Mitch, picked him up, and tackled him onto the grass. 

“Oomph. You’re crushing me.”

I braced myself over him and grinned. “You’re cute and I really wanna kiss you right now.”

“Chelsea’s filming,” he warned with a mischievous grin that doubled as a dare.

I never could resist a dare.

I sealed my mouth over his in a passionate kiss before jumping up and yanking him to his feet. I broke into a mini touchdown dance that made him laugh and fuck, I suddenly felt like I was floating on air. Something in me screamed that this was how it was supposed to be. I could have this forever if I was brave.

Chelsea was mostly quiet while she filmed, but she cheered when Mitch caught the ball and chortled merrily at my lame-ass cheering skills and even worse cartwheel. Mitch thanked her profusely. Then he pushed Pause and gave her a thorough once-over. She did the same to him. The silent standoff was slightly unsettling. I was relieved when Chelsea finally turned to hug me.

“I love this. There’s a huge audience out there you haven’t tapped into. Can I share your link on social media?” she asked.

Mitch frowned. “I don’t know. I—”

“The more data you collect, the better. I’m totally okay with it,” I intercepted. “Why not spread the word?”

“Chels’s audience is more varied and far-reaching than mine. I’ve purposely limited my exposure. I changed my handle and only invited people from my class and the LGBTQ Center and—”

“Why would you do that? I thought the idea was to get more viewers to collect data. This is for a grade, right?”

“I think this is where I scoot. Let me know what you want to do.” Chelsea kissed Mitch’s cheek and hugged me again before leaving us.

“Well?” I prodded. “What am I missing? I thought you had more followers than her.”

Mitch perched on the corner of the bench. “Under my own name, that’s true. But I made a new account for this project. I might have fifty viewers. It’s not ideal, but I’ll get a decent grade and—”

“Why would you keep it a secret?”

I watched his Adam’s apple move in his throat. He shifted on the bench and then shrugged. “I thought you might change your mind in the beginning. I didn’t want to introduce us to everyone and end up embarrassed when you pulled out. We have too much overlap. It would have been awkward. But when you didn’t go anywhere, I didn’t want to share you. I didn’t want anyone to point out all the reasons we’d never work. I didn’t want anyone to tell me what I already know. You’re good-looking, athletic, popular.…You’re out of my league.”

“That’s not true.”

“It’s perception. And that’s what the project is about. A few people giving their two cents is normal. Thousands…I don’t know if I’m ready to lose quite so publicly.”

“Lose what?”

“You,” he replied quietly.

I sat beside him and pulled him against my side. “You aren’t going to lose me.”

“Evan, the only reason this works is because no one knows about us. And before you say it, my grandmother and best friend don’t count. In my experience, when more than five people know a closeted person is in a gay relationship, it’s just a matter of time before it all goes to shit.”

“I’m not Rory, and I—”

“But the story is the same!” He sighed in frustration and pulled away from me. “I’m a fucking magnet for gorgeous men with secret bi sides. It’s not you. It’s me.”

“Well, I think that’s bullshit. You’ve already decided you know I’m gonna fail. You haven’t given me a chance. I want a fair shot. Tell Chelsea to promote your page and then cross promote on your real site. Do this right and let’s get the fuckin’ A,” I insisted.

“But—”

“No ‘buts.’ Don’t tell me I’m gonna lose.”

“This isn’t a game.”

“I know what it is, and I know how I feel about you. Trust me.”

He met my gaze with a challenging one. “It’s a big audience, Ev.”

“How big?”

“A few hundred thousand.”

Oh. Wow. Way bigger than I thought.

“Do it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

Mitch’s smile was more tentative than happy. It lacked confidence and though I wanted to be insulted, I understood. He was used to being left behind. By selfish parents and ex-boyfriends who put their insecurities before him. Geez, his last relationship was with a guy who tried to win him back by making him jealous…with a girl. He hadn’t had anyone go out on a limb and tell the whole fucking world how incredible he was. It wasn’t right. But I could change that.