I can’t even begin to imagine what that was like for him. An adolescent boy learning his father was gay... It couldn’t have been easy.
Not that I’ve cyberstalked Roan (okay, maybe a teeny tiny bit), but I have tooled around on the website dedicated to all things Roan King. I don’t remember seeing anything about his parents or that his father was gay. Which is kind of surprising, because it seems like everything else regarding his life is out there for the world to view, share, and comment upon.
The reason for that suddenly occurs to me.
“No one knows, do they?”
Once again his eyes cut to mine as the sun sets in front of us. Even though I normally enjoy watching the sun dip beneath the horizon, I’m way too focused on Roan to appreciate it. “No. They don’t know anything about my father.”
Curiosity has me asking, “How have you managed to keep it a secret? Your life seems to be an open book. You can’t go anywhere without pictures turning up or information being splashed across a website.”
He jerks his big shoulders into a tight, almost defensive shrug. “It was never a concerted effort on my part to hide it. But by the same token, it just didn’t seem like anybody else’s business either.” Yanking off his ball cap, he plows his fingers through his dark unruly hair before slapping it back in place. “He’s gay and lives with his partner. After he came out, he never tried covering it up or hiding who he was, but he isn’t the type of guy to ram it down your throat either. It’s just one piece of who he is. It doesn’t make up the totality of him. Just like me being heterosexual isn’t the only thing that defines me. I’m a lot of other things as well.”
He blows out another lengthy breath. “I know exactly what the media will do if they get ahold of this. It’ll become the focal point instead of my talent and skill. I don’t need that shit going into the draft. My dad is an architect and he’s a damn good one. He owns his own firm. Once it’s out there, every time someone makes the connection between us, that’s exactly what will be uppermost in their minds. Not him being great at what he does, but that he’s gay. If I were just a twenty-two year old guy looking to get a job in business after college, no one would give a crap about it. But like you said before,” his eyes burn into mine, “I’m not anonymous. And everything that’s put out there about me seems to get overblown. Neither one of us needs or wants that.”
I can’t help but squeeze his thigh as he finally runs out of words. “Not everything about your life needs to be made public.” I think about the pictures of us that were posted and all the ugly comments. Even though being gay is nothing to be ashamed of, I also realize that not everyone is accepting. It’s no one else’s business if his father is gay. And it should be a non-issue even if people do find out about it.
Nodding his head, he finally puts the truck into gear. “We should probably get going. I still have some studying to plow through tonight.”
“Okay.”
As he pulls out into traffic, I can’t help but stare at him. Roan has a really strong profile. Even though his ball cap is still in place, I see the vibrant turquoise color of his eyes as he focuses on the road. His nose is straight, his lips full. His face is all chiseled angles and planes.
My heart actually skips a beat as I sit there quietly studying him.
Just when I feel like I’ve got a firm grasp on who I think Roan is, something happens to totally change it. And every time it shifts, I’m surprised to realize that I like him even more than I thought I did.
Chapter Twenty-One
The sexiest man at Barnett seems to be spending an awful lot of time with a tall willowy brunette. And yes… she’s the very same girl who has been previously photographed with him. Who the heck is this girl and how has she managed to capture his attention so completely??? Am I the only one who feels as if the world has completely fallen off its axis??? KingOfCampus.Com
Lying in bed, I can’t seem to fall asleep. Everything I learned about Roan tonight keeps churning in my head. Even though I’m tired, sleep still won’t come. I’ve spent the last twenty minutes debating whether or not to shoot him a quick text.
He was unusually quiet when we parted ways outside my apartment. I was thinking he might want to come in and talk some more but when I hinted around at it, he didn’t seem too interested. And I kind of hated myself for the disappointment that surged through every cell of my being when we finally said good night before I quietly shut the door, leaving him alone on the other side.