Hi guys! We have Sloan Johnson popping in today with her new release Inseparable, we have a great excerpt and a brilliant giveaway, so check out the post and enter the giveaway! <3 ~Pixie~
Trevor and Gabe never knew life without the other. As only children, they grew up as close as brothers, but their love grew to something more. Something they couldn’t talk about because their parents wouldn’t understand.
Gabe is gay and unapologetic about his sexuality. He refuses to live his life in the shadows, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t harboring secrets.
Trevor is his parents’ miracle child and he doesn’t want to hurt them. Coming out, admitting he’s in love with Gabe, could ruin everything.
Heading off to college was supposed to finally free them to be together, but nothing is as easy as it seems. Can they find a way to navigate this new world, living and loving openly?
“Gabe, do you have the mini-vacuum?” I tried to keep from rolling my eyes until I turned away. I loved my mom, really, but she was taking the whole “baby bird leaving the nest” thing a bit too far. And seriously, who needed a damn vacuum in the dorms? I barely used one at home. Why would I suddenly be overcome with the urge to vacuum the little bit of exposed floor that’d be left once we loaded in our stuff on top of the furniture the university provided? Besides, our rooms had institutional tile floors, not carpet. Seemed like overkill to me, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. I was beginning to rethink my insistence that we load the Jeep this morning before heading out. There wasn’t enough caffeine in the world to deal with Mom’s neuroses at six in the damn morning.
“Yes, Mom.” I sighed, heavily, before picking up the next tote to load into the back of Trevor’s Jeep. All summer she’d been making lists and obsessively checking them against the growing pile of so-called essentials she picked up every time she ran into town. “I also have the Clorox wipes, the Lysol, paper towels, and dish soap. Everything you bought is packed away in these bins.”
Trevor brushed past me, sending a shock through my body. Not much longer and I wouldn’t have to ball my hands into fists to keep from reaching out for him. Maybe. Something was off with him today and I couldn’t figure out what it was. He seemed more anxious than excited, which made me wonder if he’d only gone along with this plan to attend the same college and share a dorm to humor me.
Shit. Was that it? It wouldn’t be the first time. Our moms loved to tell us that we’d been raising hell together since the playpen, my own mom always adding that I was the instigator, not Trevor. Never precious Trevor. No, he was a people-pleaser from birth and went along with everything I dreamed up, even after one plot ended in a trip to the emergency room and him in a cast for six weeks.
When he returned from the Jeep, I did reach out for him. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, why?” His focus darted past me to see if anyone was within earshot. That’d become a rote habit, especially in the past few months. The closer we got to getting the hell out of Dodge, the more reckless I’d become. I’d grown impatient, not wanting to wait to see what it’d be like when we weren’t both worrying about our parents barging into the room.
“You’re quiet,” I observed.
“I’m always the quiet one,” he responded with a smirk. “That’s why your mom loves me more.”
Why couldn’t you be more like Trevor? his mom asked more times than he could count. Trevor’s such a good boy, she’d say wistfully every time he left the house to walk two doors down to his own house as the streetlights came on.
“But you’re quiet, even for you. You sure you’re okay with this? Once we get there, there’s no turning back.”
“Pretty sure that ship sailed about an hour after the acceptance letters came in the mail.” He wasn’t wrong. Our moms had been overjoyed when we’d both been accepted to UNC Wilmington. Sometimes, I wondered how much easier our lives would’ve been if one of us had been born a girl. Okay, so maybe not as easy as I’d convinced myself since I knew damn well our mothers would have our entire lives plotted out by now, down to how many kids we’d have and how far away we’d be allowed to live so they could shower their grandchildren with love and presents.
“But if you don’t wanna share a room, we can ask for a room assignment change,” I offered, even though the idea of him not being on the other side of our tiny dorm room made me physically ill. I held my breath until he shook his head, the only confirmation I got that he was still on board with being my roommate. A quick glance over my shoulder told me we were alone, so I took his hand in mine, squeezing tighter when he tried to pull away. “Trev, don’t do this. Not now. If you want your own room, tell me. I won’t be pissed.”
Hurt, yes. Angry with him for wanting to do his own thing instead of following me around the way I’d grown used to for the past eighteen years, no. One thing I never wanted to do was push Trevor into something he didn’t want. Hell, if it were up to me, we’d have been making out, maybe more, for the past year, ever since the night I confessed my crush to him, knowing it could be the end of the only friendship I knew I could count on no matter what.
Sloan Johnson is a big city girl trapped in a country girl’s life. While she longs for the hustle and bustle of New York City or Las Vegas, she hasn’t yet figured out how to sit on the deck with her morning coffee, watching the deer and wild turkeys in the fields while surrounded by concrete and glass.
When she was three, her parents received their first call from the principal asking them to pick her up from school. Apparently, if you aren’t enrolled, you can’t attend classes, even in Kindergarten. The next week, she was in preschool and started plotting her first story soon after.
Later in life, her parents needed to do something to help their socially awkward, uncoordinated child come out of her shell and figured there was no better place than a bar on Wednesday nights. It’s a good thing they did because this is where she found her love of reading and writing. Who needs socialization when you can sit alone in your bedroom with a good book?
Now, Sloan is a tattooed mom with a mohawk and two kids. She’s been kicked out of the PTA in two school districts and is no longer asked to help with fundraisers because she’s been known to lose herself with a good book and forget she has somewhere to be.