Chapter 42

“Allen,” Nick continued loudly, and Tab felt his stomach somehow—impossibly—soar and drop at the same time, “apparently didn’t want to get beaten by a queer.”

And then Nick’s meaning became clear, when every guy from Grangefields snorted as one. The wave of derisive disbelief was crystal-clear, and it was like the clouds parting after rain. That was what Nick had meant. He was so straight that everyone knew. Nobody would believe Allen.

And it meant that he was impossible. It meant that Tab’s choice was made for him. It meant that Nick was safe, and that he could try and shrug this off, and turn to Demi, and erase the image of Nick, naked in bed, and murmuring Demi’s words. Tab didn’t have to fucking choose.

The euphoria that burst like a firework in his chest was nothing to do with Nick’s victory.