Top Secret Read online Elle Kennedy

Categories Genre: College, Gay, GLBT, M-M Romance, New Adult, Romance, Young Adult Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
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In fact, he’s avoiding the house altogether.

And so am I, if I’m honest. I catch my friends giving me the side-eye sometimes. It’s not like I think they’re worried about catching gay cooties or anything. It’s more like they can’t figure out what to say. Anyone with eyes can see that Luke and I are on the outs. But I guess they think you can’t use the same back slaps and tequila challenges to sweep away a breakup with a dude.

Although Tanner offered to take me out and get me drunk. And Dan Zimmer quite awkwardly offered his ear if I had any questions for him. “I could teach you the secret handshake,” he’d joked.

But I turned them down. I’m not in the mood for anyone to make me feel better, I guess. So my gloomy face continues to discourage questions. And I’m still getting glances that range from curious to worried.

And sometimes it’s Luke who is sneaking looks at me. On those rare occasions when we’re both around, I see the regret in his eyes. He’s not very good at hiding it.

I know he still wants me. I know he never stopped. But you can’t make someone get over their issues and love you. I know that he’s never had anyone trustworthy in his life, and I really want to be that person. But what if he’s just too broken to let me?

Luke is much like an abused stray. Okay, now I’m comparing the guy I like to a dog. But animals are my jam, so that’s actually a compliment from me. Anyway, you see these heart-wrenching videos of abused dogs who thrive with the right kind of attention. They gain weight, and their coats become glossy. If you believe YouTube, they’re the most loyal animals in the world.

But if you read enough animal-behavior literature, you know it doesn’t always end that way. Some dogs never get past their terror.

When I reach the corner of Columbus Avenue and West 85th, I’m already depressed. But I plaster on a pleasant face and cross the street to meet my dad.

Today’s the day when I will finally tell him how to steer himself off the exit ramp of my life. So at least I have a plan.

It’s a warm day in early May, so I scan the outdoor tables first. And—shit! My mother is the first person I spot. She’s sitting there next to Dad.

I’m being tag-teamed. Awesome.

“Hey guys,” I say, straightening my spine. Whatever I can say to one parent, I suppose I can say to two.

“Keaton!” My mother pops out of her chair. “Hi, baby!”

I kiss her on the cheek and force myself to smile.

The tables are tight, and my dad is trapped beside her, so he offers his hand to shake. Like real men do.

To be fair, he hasn’t said a word about my little revelation. I honestly don’t know what he thinks about me right now. But it doesn’t change my message.

I take a seat, and the waiter swoops in. He has an Aussie accent and hipster glasses. He’s pretty cute. Stuff like that just pops into my head all the time now, and I don’t try to chase it out like I used to. So at least I have that going for me.

“I’ll have the Lumberjack,” I say before he can even offer me a menu. “And coffee. Thanks.”

My parents order, and then we all just stare at each other for a second.

“How’ve you been?” Dad asks finally.

“All right. The end of the term is always hard.”

“I hope you’re getting enough sleep,” Mom says.

“Plenty, actually.” I clear my throat. Sleep isn’t really an issue now that I’m alone in my bed every night.

“Also…” I decide to get it all out in the open before we eat. “I got this last week.” I pull a piece of paper out of my pocket and unfold it. I hand it to my father and watch as he scans it.

Welcome to the Orca Expedition, it says. Departing from Valparaíso, Chile, on May 19th.

“I got in, and I want to go,” I say. “It doesn’t cost anything…”

“That was never the issue,” Dad points out.

“Just saying.” I sigh. “You wanted me to get a degree in biology.”

“Or chemistry. Or finance,” Dad adds.

“Finance was never happening,” I tell him. “It’s not the least bit interesting to me. And I’d be terrible at it. I really like biology, though. And I want to study animal behavior in graduate school after I leave Darby.”

His shoulders sag. “But why? A PhD will take five years if you’re fast and seven if you’re slow. That’s pushing back your employment at Hayworth Harper for years.”

“That’s just it, Dad. I don’t want to work for you. I love research. I’m going to be an academic.”

He groans. “Swear to God, can’t you just be gay? Do you have to be an academic, too? It’s like a dagger through the heart.”


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