Second Hand: A Tucker Springs Novel 2

distance. “Of course, maybe you’re right. Maybe I can’t win.”
“I never said that,” El pointed out quickly.
Paul wasn’t listening now, though. “I never can. I never have. Not in high school, not in college, and certainly not now.” His scowl turned painful. “Larry was mad at Stacey last night, so she came home. To my home. I let her stay.”
Why did that confession feel like a bucket of ice water? El tried to sound neutral. “Oh?”
“She slept in bed beside me and nothing happened. Because I didn’t want to push her. Because I knew she probably wouldn’t want to do anything. Then I woke up and she was talking to him on her phone, everything straightened up. I was a mistake, that’s what she told me. I tried so hard to be good and not take advantage, to do what she wanted, and I lost. Again.” He’d been ripping up tufts of grass while he spoke, and he tossed a handful out onto the sidewalk in disgust. “Why do I do that? Why do I keep hanging on, trying to be her first choice? I don’t even know that I care about her anymore. I just want to be the first choice for someone for once. Just once.”
El couldn’t help but think how, had anyone else appeared in front of him on the sidewalk, even Denver, he would have continued on his solitary way instead of suggesting rollerblading. “I bet you’re first choice a lot of times and you don’t even know it.”
“Well, I want to know it.” He looked adorably fierce now. “God, and I want her to see it. I want everyone to see it.” He pointed out across the park. “There. That. Those two, necking under that tree. Right where everyone can see them. I want that.”
El’s stomach fluttered, and his cock sat up and paid attention. “You want to make out in the park?”
Oh, more adorable blushing. “No. I mean, yes, but not that specifically. I want to be wanted like that. For something. Anything. And I want everyone to see.” His flush deepened. “Just once.”
The just once kept ringing in El’s ears as they climbed back to their feet and bladed clumsily back to the pedestrian mall, where they probably weren’t supposed to blade but did anyway. They stopped to catch their breath and descended into more juvenile laughter against a recycling bin. El took a moment to enjoy the sight of Paul relaxed and beautiful, not awkward or shy, just Paul, the best thing that had happened to an afternoon. El was aware of strangers watching, getting caught up in his and Paul’s mirth, their happiness.
Caught up in it too, El moved before he could check himself, catching Paul’s chin and brushing a soft, chaste kiss across his lips.
Paul’s startle frightened El back into his own personal space, made him paste on a sideways grin to disguise his panic. Nodding to the audience, trying to make it clear it was all a joke, he quipped, “There. I think everyone saw that.”
El was ready for Paul to be offended or upset or grossed out. He had a whole dismissal ready to explain away the impulse as meaningless. Paul only stared at him, though, stunned, slightly confused, and—possibly—touched.
“Thanks,” he said at last. A little breathlessly, and that tugged at El’s heart like nothing else could have.
He gave Paul a manly pat on the back and a wink. “Come on. First one to smash against the door of the shop has to buy dinner.”

chapter 13
    T
    wo days after Stacey had breezed into my life and back out of it again, I stood in my pantry, staring at what was left. I hadn’t heard from her. I hadn’t bothered trying to call her, either. I grabbed the George Foreman grill and the fondue pot. I wasn’t even hard up for cash. It was more about wanting to be rid of the past. I couldn’t get over how good it felt to empty my pantry of the leftovers from my relationship with Stacey. Somehow, each new open spot on the shelf felt liberating. Maybe it wasn’t quite healing, but it was one less reminder of my inability to be what she’d wanted.
    My pulse quickened and fluttered as I maneuvered my box around to open the door to Tucker Pawn during my lunch hour, though I shoved the nerves aside. El had made it clear the kiss wasn’t a big deal. A friendly sort of teasing. My reaction was silly, because he hadn’t meant anything by it, and we were just friends.
    And I wasn’t gay, I reminded myself, trying not to be alarmed at how low that truth had fallen on the list of why that kiss shouldn’t matter.
    El smiled at me, as relaxed and El as ever as he