Foreword
Love whoever you want to love. Be free. Love hard always. And when you’re lucky enough to find your person, hold on tight and scream it out loud. Life’s too short to hate or to worry about being hated for who you love.
Your Song
Ellie Goulding
I Will Buy You a New Life
Everclear
Little By Little
Oasis
Love of My Life
Queen
Angels & Demons
jxdn
Champagne Supernova
Oasis
Smile Like You Mean It
The Killers
High Hopes
Panic! At The Disco
“What are you doing over here by yourself, loser?”
Grady fucking Bell.
I smile at the sound of my best friend’s voice coming from behind me while I sit on the dock, staring at the rippling water in the moonlight. I’m holding onto the neck of a whiskey bottle resting between my legs, but I haven’t had much to drink tonight. It’s graduation night. I should be happy. I am happy.
My dreams are about to come true. So are his.
But those dreams are sending us in completely different directions.
I feel his body crowd mine as he takes a seat on the end of the dock with me, his sneakers dangling just above the water like my own. “There’s an epic party going on right back there.” He extends his lanky arm behind us, that bigass grin with his bright, white teeth visible in the night.
“Aren’t you tired of partying yet, Grady?”
He laughs at that, effortless and contagious. Grady is larger than life. He was even when we were in second grade, never caring what anyone thought about him. He can hit a home run effortlessly. Get an A on a test without even studying. Sing any song in existence acapella while bringing the biggest badass out there to tears. Score the winning touchdown in the last few seconds of a game. Play a song on his guitar perfectly after only hearing it once.
Grady Bell is a goddamn legend in this town, and now he’s leaving.
“We’re just getting started, Bailey.”
I roll my eyes at the use of my last name but still smile because it’s something he’s always done. Bell and Bailey. In a small town like ours, that meant we were always paired together. School. Sports. Newspaper achievements.
Always.
“Seems to me, Bell, that we were just getting started, but then you had to go and sign with a record label.”
He gives me a sly grin and steals the whiskey bottle from between my thighs, even though I can smell the booze on him already. “You want me to tell them to fuck off?” I turn to look at him and that intoxicating grin on his face. “Because I fucking will.”
I laugh and look out at the lake water again. We both had baseball scholarships to the same college. That was the plan. It’s always been my plan, decided for me before I was even born by a father with the same dream for himself.
Unfortunately, my mom got pregnant in an “oops” situation during their senior year of high school, and my dad proposed, then immediately went to trade school to learn to be a welder. I think it was then he decided I would be the baseball player.
And I’m not half bad.
Grady, the talented motherfucker, is good at all he does and, of course, excelled at baseball along with everything else. So, we decided that was our ticket out of this town. The major leagues. We’d play for the big boys, party like crazy, buy our moms houses, and never come back to this small town.
But instead, he had to go and get signed with a record label who wants him to immediately go to LA and lay tracks for an album. I’m happy for him. Music has always been his favorite talent, but I’m a selfish asshole, feeling lost and abandoned.
“No.” I turn to look at Grady, his black hair just a little overgrown and blowing in the wind, and even though I can’t see his dark green eyes, I know they’re sparkling with mischief. “I want you to go and blow their fucking minds.”
His grin widens. “You know I will. And you?”
I shrug and swallow hard, still facing him. “Me?”
“You’re going to kill it in college sports, and then you’re going to the MLB. You’re going to the big leagues, and they won’t even know what hit them.”
How can I do that without Grady?
What’s a catcher without his pitcher?
I don’t recognize my own voice as I shift my body so I’m facing him directly, pulling my legs up on the dock and tucking them under me awkwardly. “What if I fail?”
He places the whiskey bottle next to him and then turns his body, mimicking my position. His large hands grip my face, not letting me look away. “Ryan, when have you ever failed in your life?”
When hasn’t he been there to back me up? It’s what I want to ask, but I don’t. I just shake my head, taking his hands with me as I do. “I’m scared.”
I hate making this admission. Men don’t get scared. And if we do, we sure as hell don’t admit it. In a small town like this in Kansas, men are still supposed to be “tough.” We don’t show weakness. “Me too.”
I’m shocked when he readily admits this. Grady isn’t afraid of anything. “You’ll be fine.”
“I’m going to California, Ry. This is all I’ve ever known.” He doesn’t release me, but he looks around the lake. No one is around us, but I hear the music coming from the shabby cabin our class rented for the weekend, and I can see the bonfire they’ve lit close to it.
“You’ll be great.”
His eyes meet mine, and I feel that familiar feeling stirring low in my belly. One I’ve been trying to ignore for years. One I’ve tried to drink away. I’ve tried my best to get lost in the girls in our class and out on the baseball field. I’ve thrown myself into everything else, trying like hell to ignore the one thing I know deep down I want.
Him.
“So will you.”
“Chances of going pro are slim,” I say lamely, my eyes transfixed on his full lips. No wonder he has such a reputation for being a good kisser. With lips like those, how could he not be?
Of course, that’s only with girls.
Every fucking girl in our school.
Grady is, no doubt, straight. And I . . . I have no idea what I am.
Lost.
That seems about right.
He cups the back of my neck with one of his hands and pulls me close, resting his forehead against mine in a gesture he’s done a lot when I’ve doubted myself. “Not for you. You’re Ryan fucking Bailey. You’re going to go far. You were destined for this.”
A shiver runs through me from the intensity of his eyes on mine. “You’re always so sure.”
“About you? Of course, I am.”
I want to lean in even closer. I breathe him in and hope like hell it’s not noticeable, but I can’t resist. He smells like whiskey and the lake from swimming earlier. And him. Just fucking him.
“Grady?” My voice is full of gravel as he pulls back enough to look into my eyes. His breathing seems rapid, but maybe it’s my imagination.
“Yeah?”
I swear his gaze drops to my lips, but I try to shake that thought away. I’ve wanted him for years, but there’s no way he feels the same. “I don’t know what I was going to say,” I admit.