Men of Summer Series by Lauren Blakely – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

Men of Summer Series by Lauren Blakely – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com Wed, 01 Sep 2021 21:03:44 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.wownovels.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png Men of Summer Series by Lauren Blakely – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.wownovels.com 32 32 All In With Him (Men of Summer #3) Read Online Lauren Blakely http://www.wownovels.com/all-in-with-him-men-of-summer-3-read-online-lauren-blakely Wed, 01 Sep 2021 20:45:37 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/all-in-with-him-men-of-summer-3-read-online-lauren-blakely Genre: Contemporary, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, Romance, Sports Authors: Lauren Blakely Series: Men of Summer Series by Lauren Blakely
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Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 61180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	All In With Him (Men of Summer #3)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Lauren Blakely
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B097CJMN2P
Book Information:
Once upon a time all I needed was baseball, friends and extracurricular activities. Then everything changed when Declan Steele stormed into my life and upended all my priorities with his heart, his love, his passion. So my next five-year plan will include this new ground rule—Love big. Only, that’s easier said than done when my man and I come face to face with hard truths and new troubles about what it means to be all in. That’s when I learn that finding love isn’t the hardest part. Keeping it is. All In with Him is the final novel in the Men of Summer series, and should be read following Winning With Him.
Books in Series:	Men of Summer Series by Lauren Blakely
Books by Author:	Lauren Blakely

Prologue

Grant

My five-year plan didn’t just happen. It holy fuck happened.

When I was twenty-two, I had big dreams and nothing but hope to back them up.

Now, at twenty-seven, I’ve won a World Series, started in three All-Star games, and enjoyed my pick when it comes to endorsement deals.

My career hasn’t left the upswing.

I’m still playing the game I love for a living, so it’s hard to want for anything else. I know far too well what it’s like when life isn’t good, and I appreciate the hell out of every moment on and off the field.

Since my last five-year plan worked better than expected, maybe it’s time I laid down a new set of goals. After all, my world has changed so damn much since I made the first one.

Changed for the better.

The next plan will include these existing ground rules—live well and play hard. But I’m adding a third.

Love big.

I’m determined to let those principles guide me through the next phase of my life. I intend to savor each day, leave it all on the field, and give my everything to the man I love madly.

That’s what I didn’t include in my original plan—finding the big love of my life.

I have him now, and that means I have more than I ever dreamed of when I was growing up, when elusive things like happiness, safety, and comfort felt far out of reach.

They’re here now, big time.

But then, that old enemy, doubt, swings by.

Pokes me on the shoulder.

Whispers darkly in my ear.

Asks me if my life is too good to be true. If it’s going too well.

Maybe doubt knows something I don’t. Since one fine evening, when I’m out with my man at a club, I learn that finding love isn’t necessarily the hardest part.

Keeping it is.

Prologue

Declan

Once upon a time, I could compartmentalize anything.

Baseball, dating, men. They all went in separate drawers.

I kept love and sex on opposite sides of my life, separated by sky-high walls.

That seemed like a good idea at the time.

Turned out to be the worst. I was so used to wearing blinders I nearly missed a second chance with the love of my life.

But I got my act together, learned my lessons, and opened my heart. Now, my guy is back, and I’ll do just about anything to make Grant Blackwood happy—because he makes me happier than I’ve ever been.

Happier than I ever thought possible.

The trouble is, the closer we get, the more Grant challenges me in ways I never expected. He pushes me past my comfort zone and straight into the public eye, where the lights are much brighter than the ones at the ballpark at night.

As our life together stands in the spotlight, I’m coming face-to-face with hard choices. What I’ll give up. What I won’t. I finally have the peace and freedom I never had when I was young. But I want my life to be mine. I want ours to be ours. I want to shut the door at night and just . . . be.

But the more time I spend with Grant, the more I learn that the man I love does more than rock my world—he rattles it out of orbit.

After far too long with too many people knowing my secrets, I’m not sure I want everyone knowing my un-secrets.

Somedays, I just want Grant all to myself.

Trouble is, I don’t know if that’ll be enough for the man I love.

1

Grant

Life is full of dilemmas.

Some are big. Some are little. The key is to know how to handle both.

I’ve tackled the super-size dilemmas. Hell, the path I’ve traveled the last few years has been marked with tons of them. After navigating roadblocks and potholes, I can say with certainty I’m finally living my best life.

Not because it’s free of predicaments.

Because it’s full of little ones.

Would I rather have a hand job or a blow job from my boyfriend when I wake up in the morning? Or is today going to be one of those epic days when we can go all in and bang each other like crazy in our king-size bed? Full on, no-holds-barred, trade-on-and-off-and-on-again sex till we are both wrecked?

Hell, who’s on top is my favorite quandary.

Unfortunately, choosing from the fantastic options at my favorite sex buffet is neither a big nor a little dilemma today. With Declan out of town, I’m a sex-camel on desert rations.

When I park my car in the players’ lot at the San Francisco Cougars ballpark one Thursday afternoon in July, I grab my phone and the opportunity to text my man. That’s how we make it through the season’s away games—message, Zoom, FaceTime . . . all the usual suspects.

It’s not ground-breaking, maintaining a long-distance relationship through technology. These routine textual check-ins with Declan are so damn relationshippy, but that’s what I love about them—every day, I remind him that I want him and miss him, and every day, I feel wanted and missed in return.

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Thirst Trap (Men of Summer #4) Read Online Lauren Blakely http://www.wownovels.com/thirst-trap-men-of-summer-4-read-online-lauren-blakely Wed, 01 Sep 2021 20:45:36 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/thirst-trap-men-of-summer-4-read-online-lauren-blakely Genre: M-M Romance, Romance Authors: Lauren Blakely Series: Men of Summer Series by Lauren Blakely
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Total pages in book: 12
Estimated words: 11411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 57(@200wpm)___ 46(@250wpm)___ 38(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Thirst Trap (Men of Summer #4)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Lauren Blakely
Language:	English
Book Information:
Some men are irresistible. Like that smoking hot British guy I meet at a nightclub. Trouble is, he disappears after our last dirty dance. But I’m determined to find my man again. And I’ve got just the plan — I’ll send him a thirst trap. But his answer surprises the hell out of me…
Books in Series:	Men of Summer Series by Lauren Blakely
Books by Author:	Lauren Blakely

1

Rafe

* * *

The music pulses. The lights are low. Energy and sex radiate throughout the dance club.

The place is packed and I’ve already danced my arse off for hours, me and Theresa and one hundred of our new closest friends, tearing it up at my favorite place in San Francisco.

I may not know their names, but I know them. The other people at Edge might be strangers on paper but I bet I can tell what sort of underwear they’d look damn good in.

Take that All American guy out there. He’d turn heads in a pair of my Tight, White, and Bright jocks—all boy-next-door on the front, loud-and-proud playboy on the back.

Or the man over there in the corner dressed all snappy in a bright red tank top. He’d rock out in a pair of my Over the Rainbow briefs, for sure.

Now, as I head to the second-floor bar and ask for a martini, I run a hand through my hair, catching my breath.

It’s been a perfect Saturday night.

The loud music reverberates, echoing in my bones.

The crowds fill every square inch of the dance floor, bodies bumping and grinding. Hands slide along arms, and legs intertwine. Hips thrust. Lips lock, and I can’t look away.

Places like this are my inspiration. My greedy, overactive imagination gobbles up the sounds, the movement.

Most of all the touching.

All of it swirls together into ideas, styles, and concepts.

For connection.

At a place like this, that’s the thing people seem to crave the most.

That’s what I try to give them in my work. Connection and a sense of confidence that they can be whoever they are—whenever they want—because of the way my underwear makes them feel.

There’s a tap on my shoulder, a familiar voice. My business manager, Theresa. She’s also a close friend.

“You look deep in thought. Let me guess. You’re coming up with new underwear designs,” she shouts in my ear.

“Not quite, but I am thinking about work,” I reply with a grin.

“It’s only your favorite thing to do,” she says.

“And how lucky am I to love my job?” I ask, since, truly, I am. I design clothes that men flock to, buying them in droves to confidently show off their wares, their bodies.

Body confidence is a beautiful thing, and I’m a proud purveyor of it. Lucky me.

But luck doesn’t land in your hand. You’ve got to work for it. Think about it. Never turn off the brain.

“Loving your job is great, but there’s such a thing as working too hard.” Theresa casts her knowing gray gaze on the dance floor. “Don’t work the whole time. Look around. See who’s here. Maybe you’ll find some handsome hottie to go home with.”

I laugh. She’s always trying to get me to find just that right person. It’s a noble goal, but it’s one I haven’t realized yet. There’s always something missing—a spark.

Like the moment of inspiration when an idea seizes you.

Desire, intimacy—it’s got to be the same. Fueled by a flare of pleasure. The flicker of connection.

But finding someone who wants the same things, who needs the same things as I do is tougher than releasing a range of underwear that’s all about modesty first.

That kind of work is just not me.

“Ah, Theresa. I’m here for inspiration and inspiration only,” I say, in her ear.

“Maybe you’ll find some inspiring sex,” Theresa says, since she’s always going on about how the world needs more sex.

She’s probably not wrong.

And I certainly wouldn’t mind some inspiring sex.

It’s been a while. Late nights, early mornings, and a brain that won’t shut off make it hard to find what I want—what I need—in the bedroom.

I don’t want a simple one-night stand.

If I’m going to break my abstinence streak, I want it to be with someone who will rock my world—and, in turn, someone whose world I can rock.

I want that spark.

“I’ll keep my eyes peeled,” I say drily, then take the martini the bartender left for me and make my way to the railing that overlooks the dance floor below.

And holy fucking inspiration.

The men there are making me see unicorns on underwear, stallions on underwear, and panthers too.

Oh yes.

Theresa laughs as she ogles the crowd below. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves some athletes,” she says, gesturing to a pack of big, sturdy men below.

I make a low noise of approval, grateful the music covers it up. So Theresa won’t think I’m staring shamelessly.

But I am.

I totally fucking am.

Because . . . sexy, sweaty, muscly bodies.

The perfect models for my designs. The perfect source for my inspiration.

She points to the floor below. “I’ll be heading there.”

“I figured as much.”

As she makes her way downstairs, I take a sip of my martini, enjoying the view, scanning the crowd.

My eyes catch on a man dancing with a group of friends. He grinds against a woman, then against a man, flanked by both of them.

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Winning With Him (Men of Summer #2) Read Online Lauren Blakely http://www.wownovels.com/winning-with-him-men-of-summer-2-read-online-lauren-blakely Sun, 08 Aug 2021 21:53:45 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/winning-with-him-men-of-summer-2-read-online-lauren-blakely Genre: M-M Romance, Romance, Sports Authors: Lauren Blakely Series: Men of Summer Series by Lauren Blakely
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Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	Winning With Him (Men of Summer #2)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Lauren Blakely
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B08ND9Z5K3
Book Information:
Resisting the shortstop has never been my strong suit. I failed at it during my first spring training. It sure as hell looks like I'm about to fail at it again. The sport I love playing with my very soul hangs in the balance. But everything my heart craves lies with the guy I've got to resist. A guy who's asking me to make the toughest choice ever. But how do I become the man I want to be...with him or without him? Trouble is, I can't seem to get Declan out of my head, even if I stand to lose everything I've worked for my entire life... Winning with Him is book two in the utterly addictive Men of Summer series, and should be read following Scoring With Him. This romance between two professional athletes spans five epic years.
Books in Series:	Men of Summer Series by Lauren Blakely
Books by Author:	Lauren Blakely

Prologue

Grant

* * *

So, this is happiness. This is falling in love. I get it now. I understand why I waited.

For him.

For the possibility that sex could become so much more than a hot tangle under the sheets.

Yes, that’s what I wanted. More than a quick lay.

Someone who makes my heart thunder.

Declan Steele.

Even though I won’t see him for ages, I feel like my luck is changing when I leave him that morning before he takes off for Florida.

Leave him with a kiss and a promise that we’ll see each other again in November.

As I walk out of the hotel in Phoenix, I can picture a sandy beach in Miami, the ocean lapping the shore. I can feel the tropical sun warming my skin, the book in my hands. Declan will stride over to my lounge chair and . . . Screw the hero in the story, I’ll set that paperback down in an instant and kiss the hell out of the guy I love in real life.

We have a plan—a plan, a date, and a real chance.

For the first time in days, I feel like everything will go my way.

The Lyft drops me off at the team hotel in the dark of the night, before the sun dares peek over the horizon.

With a disgustingly happy smile, I go in via a side entrance. The halls are blissfully empty. The stairwell is quiet as I walk up the steps, slow and silent as a cat.

No one wanders along the sixth floor. No one opens a door. I slip back into my room unseen.

Safe.

My king-size bed calls to me, and I answer it, stripping out of my clothes, flopping onto the mattress, and sinking into the pillows.

I’m briefly tempted to send Declan a goodbye text before he gets on the plane to Florida. To tell him last night was epic and I can’t wait to do it again and again in November.

My fingers itch to send a sweet nothing. Hell, I’d love to get one from him.

But my better judgement wins out.

I could exercise some restraint. Get my baseball mojo back. Adjust the levers to crank up sports and dial down romance.

I’ve been dining on Declan Steele morning, noon, and night for the last week, and a short breather won’t hurt.

Maybe I’ll text him tonight.

Yeah, tonight feels better.

I set down my phone and close my eyes, replaying our dirty deeds as I drift off.

Yes, everything is going my way today. I just know it.

Three hours later, I’m on the field for the morning workout, kicking ass. Feeling as if anything is possible. The rest of the day unfolds like that—beautiful blue skies, a muscle-burning workout with Sullivan and Miguel, then a game at night.

At the plate, I key in on Declan’s words of advice. One of the last things he said to me when I left his room this morning. “In the last couple games, your weight was too far back on your knees. Shift forward maybe a millimeter. Like you usually do.”

With that adjustment, I make it to first on a line drive up the middle.

The next three batters go down, so that’s as far as I get, but I’ll take my single, thank you very much. First time in days I don’t go hitless.

When I’m suiting up to get behind the plate, I make a mental note to text Declan tonight and tell him it worked.

Yes, that’s exactly what I’ll say next time I talk to him.

For now, I feel like maybe, just maybe, I can get back in the game.

Prologue

Declan

* * *

Life has a way of sneaking up on you.

It’s happened to me a few times over the years—at the end of a championship game when I was younger, then again when I was seventeen. A little later in the minors too.

Before I even lock eyes with my unexpected visitor, I know this time is going to make those other surprises look like kittens.

This is a lion’s attack of ambushes.

I’ve been a New York Comet for one short hour. I’m heading to the field in Tampa, wearing my number eighteen uniform, my name already sewn onto it, when the hair on the back of my neck stands on end.

When my skin prickles with uneasy awareness.

I see that familiar set of shoulders, that thick head of hair, I hear that big, boisterous laugh, and my stomach twists.

My throat goes desert dry.

My legs turn into cinder blocks.

But I have a game to play.

A bat to swing.

A glove to pick up.

As I walk onto the field, I try to recall stanzas and verses—words and rhymes from the poets who helped me through the aftermath of days of upheaval when I was younger.

T.S. Eliot, Robert Frost, Yeats.

But they don’t come.

My mind is a blank slate.

There are no rhymes, no words to grab onto.

“Declan! How the hell are you, son?” my father calls out.

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Scoring With Him (Men of Summer #1) Read Online Lauren Blakely http://www.wownovels.com/scoring-with-him-men-of-summer-1-read-online-lauren-blakely Sat, 10 Jul 2021 23:03:34 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/scoring-with-him-men-of-summer-1-read-online-lauren-blakely Genre: M-M Romance, Romance, Sports Authors: Lauren Blakely Series: Men of Summer Series by Lauren Blakely
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	(Men of Summer #1) Scoring With Him
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Lauren Blakely
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	9798729926718
Book Information:
An emotional, sexy, forbidden romance! Scoring with Him is the first novel in the utterly addictive Men of Summer Series! Falling for the rookie wasn't part of the plan. As a pro athlete, I have one unbreakable rule when it comes to men -- Don't date another baseball player. Good thing I haven't been tempted once in four years in the majors.Until the day a rising star walks into my locker room. Outgoing, affable, and sexy-as-sin, Grant has confidence and talent for miles. He seems to get me too, maybe because we each have our fair share of secrets and scars -- ones we'll both fight to protect. But, I've got far too much trouble in my past to want to bring any into my present. All the more reason to resist the kind of dirty deeds his lips and eyes promise. Even after I plant a scorching, hot kiss on the rookie one night after a game. Even after he sends me the world's sexiest selfie. But when Grant reveals his biggest secret, I'm so damn ready to rip up the rulebook. Turns out he's a virgin and he wants me to help him get around all the bases. The only rule? Don't fall in love with him as we go. ****Scoring with Him is book one in the utterly addictive Men of Summer series. This romance between two professional athletes spans five epic years and continues in Winning With Him.
Books in Series:	Men of Summer Series by Lauren Blakely
Books by Author:	Lauren Blakely

Prologue

Five Years Ago

At the Start of Rookie Year

* * *

Grant

If I were the kind of guy who made five-year plans, mine would include winning a World Series, playing in an All-Star game, and having my pick when it comes to endorsement deals.

Just putting that out there, universe. I’ll check back in when I’m twenty-seven and see what comes true. K, thanks.

And to do that, I need a killer first season.

I have to go into spring training and play hard every day.

Baseball is my one and only dream. This sport saw me through the toughest years. Hard times are in the rearview mirror at long last, and good riddance to those days I’d like to forget.

Hell, if I play my cards right, the opportunities for my career are endless.

That’s not cocky.

That’s just true.

Fine, maybe it’s a little bit cocky, but facts are facts, and these are mine. I’m twenty-two. I earned a degree in history from a good college, I racked up one bonkers season in minor league baseball, and thanks to going in the first round of the draft, I’m making bank as I get ready to head to Arizona for spring training. My goal there? Lock up the starting catcher slot. Lock it up so damn tight that the coach can’t picture anyone else but me behind the plate for the team.

Pretty sure I don’t have time for extracurricular activities. And that’s okay. I don’t need to be a hookup maestro. Besides, I bet the quest to be a player after hours is a recipe for disaster on the diamond.

So yeah, I suppose that’s my five-year plan. Don’t look back. Move the hell forward. Leave it all on the field.

Which means—don’t be distracted by men.

That shouldn’t be a problem for me.

I’ve learned to live, breathe, and eat the sport, and romance has taken a back seat. There will be time for men later in my twenties.

Not at my first spring training.

Not during my rookie year.

And definitely not with a man on my team anytime soon.

No matter how charming, sexy, smart, or easygoing a certain guy is. No matter how hot the attraction burns between us. And no matter how close I want to get to him.

And this turns out to be the biggest problem in my brand-new career. Not hitting a wicked fastball. Not scrambling for a wild pitch.

Nope, the problem is my shortstop.

Declan Steele.

From his easy confidence, to his deadpan wit, to the way he guides me through the complicated world of pro ball, I’m hooked on the man from the second I meet him.

Add in his movie star face and a carved body that makes me want to throw him against the wall and kiss the breath out of him—or hell, let him shove me against the door. I don’t care—and I’m not sure I stand a chance at my five-year plan.

Let alone a one-month plan.

Already I’m behind in the count, and if I’m not careful, I’m going to strike out on my first chance to make it in the pros.

But with Declan, I’m not sure I can be careful.

Or if I want to. Because he just might be everything I didn’t know I needed.

Prologue

The Same Time

* * *

Declan

* * *

A good thing about being a Major League baseball player is that dates aren’t hard to come by.

The pickings are plentiful, and I’ve enjoyed the offerings that have come my way over the last few years.

The off-season is me time, and I’ve used the winters to turn up the heat, to wine and dine to my heart’s—and dick’s—content.

Both organs have been quite happy, thank you very much.

My stomach too. There was that fling with the chef at a three-starred Michelin restaurant in Napa. Let me tell you, seared scallops are even better when a man makes them just for you in his fantastic wine-country home overlooking a vineyard. I then showed him how much I appreciated his skills in the kitchen by showing off mine in the bedroom.

Pretty sure I earned more than three stars with the things I did.

The year after, I played globe-trotter alongside a rich-as-sin internet executive with a private jet, and we hardly ever wanted that Gulfstream to land.

Then there was that TV star. You know, the guy in the Wall Street show who wears the fuck out of tailored suits.

I date here and there on my own time and dime. There’s no hiding, and I’m definitely not in the closet, so I’m sure pics of me out with guys surface now and then in gossip rags or where-the-fuck-ever.

Don’t know, since I don’t read them or follow them.

But I do make it my mission to keep my romantic escapades off my social media. They don’t belong there.

No matter who I date, I’m not going to post selfies of us the morning after at some too-cool-for-school sidewalk café eating avocado toast and sipping soy chai lattes.

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Crushing on Him (Men of Summer #0.5) Read Online Lauren Blakely http://www.wownovels.com/crushing-on-him-men-of-summer-0-5-read-online-lauren-blakely Fri, 25 Jun 2021 21:55:05 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/crushing-on-him-men-of-summer-0-5-read-online-lauren-blakely Genre: M-M Romance, Romance, Sports Authors: Lauren Blakely Series: Men of Summer Series by Lauren Blakely
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Total pages in book: 7
Estimated words: 6801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 34(@200wpm)___ 27(@250wpm)___ 23(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	(Men of Summer #0.5) Crushing on Him
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	Lauren Blakely
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B097G79SND
Book Information:
Forbidden. Off limits. Dangerous. This desire for my teammate was all of those things. For the last few years I crushed on him safely, from a distance. Then on the first day of spring training, I come face-to-face with him for the first time and when our eyes meet and linger, it’s a whole new ball game. A much bigger risk too, one that can threaten my brand new career. But, he’s always been irresistible... CRUSHING ON HIM is a prequel in the Men of Summer series and it leads into the full-length novel SCORING WITH HIM. You don't have to read CRUSHING ON HIM to enjoy SCORING WITH HIM, but you'll likely enjoy this story before the story!
Books in Series:	Men of Summer Series by Lauren Blakely
Books by Author:	Lauren Blakely

Prologue

Now

Grant

This is the moment I’ve been longing for since I was a little kid.

Since I dug in at the plate during a Little League game and hit my first home run.

Since I caught my first game.

Through it all, I pictured this.

Finally making it to The Show.

Now I’m here, with a Major League team and a huge chance in front of me.

I’ve been at spring training for a full week, practicing with pitchers and catchers, showing the coaches what I’m made of. It’s been—knock on wood—damn good so far.

Today marks the start of the next phase of spring training. The position players will arrive, and soon we’ll start playing games against the other teams in Arizona.

That’s when my future will be on the line. When I have the opportunity, at last, to prove myself where it counts—on the diamond.

And I intend to do just that.

Every day, I make myself that promise. Focus on your goals.

It’s eight-thirty in the morning, and our first workout is at nine-thirty.

I leave the hotel, make my way to the team’s facility a half-mile away, and head inside. Even after a week, wonder spreads through my body as I check out the plaques and trophies on the wall.

I head to the locker room and try to visualize the first game, the pitches I’ll call, the approach I’ll need at-bat.

Baseball, and only baseball, runs through my mind as I turn the corner and nearly smack into someone.

But not just anyone.

My new teammate, who also happens to be the man I’ve been crushing on from afar.

And it started nearly four years ago.

1

Then

Grant

The first time I kissed a girl, it felt as eventful as making a sandwich.

You got the bread, you spread the mustard, you added a slice of meat.

It was just something you did in a day.

But the first time I kissed a guy? It was like an electrical storm had ignited inside my body.

We’re talking lightning, thunder—entire power grids frying.

And clarity too. Since I’d been trying to figure myself out for the last few years. Maybe I liked both guys and girls?

Before that first kiss near the end of my senior year of high school, I’d kissed a few girls in the backseats of cars. Gone on a couple of dates. Told my best friend, Reese, about the dates the next day, saying it was okay, it was so-so, I wasn’t that into the girl.

I had a pretty good inkling I’d like kissing a guy more.

But I’d wanted confirmation with my body.

And I got it the first time I kissed a guy.

It happened at a party with a man I’d just met. After a couple seconds, I had all my answers.

But for the sake of science, I tested some more, kissing him for longer.

I walked the rest of the way home in a world that was no longer black and white. It was bursting with color.

The next morning, I texted Reese and asked her to meet me for breakfast.

At the local diner, over pancakes and eggs, I cleared my throat.

This was going to be hard, wasn’t it?

Saying something I’d suspected for a while.

Saying it out loud to another person.

But then, we’d been friends since I was eight, and she was six. We’d already talked about our crushes on Chris Hemsworth, so I didn’t think I was going to shock her. Still, nerves whipped through me. I was saying this out loud for the first time to another person.

I set down my fork, took a drink of my coffee, and said, “So, I’m gay.”

It came out straightforward. To the point. I didn’t throw myself a parade.

Reese seemed to follow my lead. She kept her gaze on me, her eyes a touch serious. “Thanks for telling me. Any reason why you decided to tell me now?”

Good question. Easy enough answer. “I kissed a guy last night.”

Her blue eyes sparked with curiosity. Her voice too. “And…?”

“It was…pretty fucking good,” I said, laughing, as I remembered.

Her lips curved into a grin. “So a little better than the so-so kiss with Hannah? The meh kiss with Taylor?” she asked, recounting the stories of my other kisses.

I leaned back against the booth, relieved. “Exactly. Nothing so-so about it.” I took a beat, dragging a hand through my hair. “You’re the first person I’ve told.”

“And how do you feel now that you’ve said it?”

“Honestly? Pretty awesome,” I say, then let out a long sigh. “It was easy to tell you.”

She smiled, the kind that said she was grateful. “I’m really glad you knew you could.”

She knew all my hard truths—this one was no different. And telling her felt so good. “I should get a tattoo or something,” I said, jazzed by that idea.

Her irises twinkled. “I’m all for that. What are you thinking of?”

“Something to commemorate,” I said, practically bouncing. “I want all my tattoos to have meaning. Like these.” I gestured to the bands that looked like water on my arm.

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