Exclusive Excerpt from I’ve Got You

by Becca Seymour

I took a deep breath and looked in the mirror. I didn’t dare look at my face though. Sometimes, I just couldn’t stomach the sight. I was sure that was all levels of screwed up, but it was my truth. Instead, I focused on my T-shirt, wondering if it was too tight, wondering if anyone could tell from the way it clung to my toned body that I was… gay. I shook my head.  

Gay.  

I could totally do this. I had to get the hell over myself.  

Maybe.  

Possibly. 

I sighed. I still had no idea if I could do this—accept this openness, something I’d spent pretty much my whole life ignoring—but being honest with myself, I was getting tired of my bullshit. Tired of my inner monologues. Tired of not stepping the fuck up and owning my sexuality once and for all.  

But…. 

Yes, there was always a but, but this time, I clamped my jaw tight and stared at my face. I looked tense as all hell. It therefore made sense that a few beers would help. Getting out of my own company would help, surely to God it would.  

Glancing away, I headed toward the front door, grabbing my wallet and keys on the way. Tonight I would stop the pity party and actually leave the damn house. As I stepped outside and pulled the door closed, I gave myself a moment to feel some of the tension disperse. Inhaling deeply, I savored the fresh air, the coolness in my lungs. This was good. I could do this. Even more, I was proud of myself for doing this alone. It would have been too easy to rely on Carter, my tentative friend who had implanted himself into my life. I could do this by myself. Pride felt a little alien as it settled in my head and on my chest. It was a strange sensation, and it had been a long time since I could honestly remember a time I felt honest-to-God proud of myself. Deception and self-loathing, plus a family who took every opportunity to drag me down and remind me I wasn’t good enough, could do that to a guy.  

With an exhale, I forced myself to smile, still staring at the door. Shit, damn tears filled my eyes. I blinked them away and swallowed the sentiment, hysterical emotion and laughter bubbling in my chest and making their way to my throat. It sprung free, a deep laugh, the action making the smile on my lips genuine. Shit, I was losing it. But still, I grinned and allowed myself the moment to feel lighter. I considered accepting the tears, knowing that, while spiked with fear, they were also coated with unfamiliar happiness and relief.  

My lips still fixed with a smirk, I breathed out and closed my eyes before taking another breath. I had no idea what I was doing, where I was going (other than a local bar), and definitely no idea what tomorrow held, let alone the long-term future held, but still, I smiled. 

I turned and headed down the street to the town center, the smile now lazily lifting my lips. As I walked past Carter’s, I didn’t hesitate or pause. He had become something of my safe haven. He knew who I was. Admittedly, while he didn’t know my past, my history, he’d still given me the courage I needed to step out. I wouldn’t falter and detour. Instead, I continued on.   

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