“Good to know.” Thomas stood up and approached Rhys, and he reached out to clasp Rhys’s hand loosely. “If I can ever help, I will. I don’t like to see you hurting.”
A pang shot through Rhys, and he found himself tightening his fingers around Thomas’s. He’d closed himself off from so much after Andy died, even from his family, and he’d let friends drift away. In this moment, he realized he didn’t want to let Thomas drift away as well — or worse, drive him away by lashing out unfairly.
“You’ve helped a lot already just by sticking to my ass like an annoying burr,” he said, trying to lighten the mood a little. “More than you know.”
Thomas laughed and squeezed Rhys’s fingers. “In that case, I’ll stay latched on.” He smiled, and the wary sternness faded from his eyes at last. “So… cookout? Charles said he’s going to grill ribs with his homemade barbecue sauce, and I’m curious to see if it’s as good as he claims.”
“Better.” Rhys squeezed Thomas’s hand in return, and while he knew he ought to let go, he didn’t want to. Not yet. “He won’t give me the recipe. I’ve tried to replicate it, but I haven’t had any luck in getting it right yet.”
“How susceptible do you think he’d be to big blue eyes?” Thomas batted his lashes playfully.
“Nothing I’ve done has worked, so it’s worth a try.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
By the time they arrived at his parents’ house, Rhys felt more relaxed. The walk helped clear his head, but not as much as the talk with Thomas had. Thomas wasn’t the type to hold grudges, so he was his usual playful self after Rhys’s apology, and Rhys felt as if their relationship had undergone a subtle shift toward deeper trust and closeness. They’d never had a fight before, but now he knew Thomas preferred to handle conflict in much the same way Andy had — with open, honest communication — which Rhys understood and was comfortable with.
He found it easier to slide his arm around Thomas’s shoulders as they skirted around the house to the backyard, where the rich scent of grilling meat enhanced by the tang of spicy sauce wafted to them on the evening breeze. The fenced-in yard was large with a lush carpet of thick grass and a small area for the grill that was covered in brick pavers and located a safe distance away from the covered wood deck. Charles stood at the grill, wearing jeans, a Blue Devils sweatshirt, and a baseball cap, and he lifted his barbecue fork at them in greeting. Viv emerged from the house bearing a tray laden with empty glasses and a pitcher of iced tea. Her face lit up with a bright smile when she spotted Rhys and Thomas, and she quickly deposited the tray on a large, round wrought iron patio table, and she hurried toward them.
“Come on in!” Viv hugged Rhys first and then Thomas. “We’re going to eat outside, but your uncles have the Panthers game on if you want to join them. I’ve got some appetizers set out in the kitchen if you want something to nibble on. Nothing fancy, just a small cheese plate and some hummus and pita bread I picked up at Ingles.”
“I love hummus,” Thomas said. “But I want to save all my room for these ribs I’ve been hearing about.”
“They’ll be worth it,” Viv said, casting a proud smile at Charles, who was focused on brushing sauce on the ribs. Then she gave Rhys an apologetic smile. “I only invited your aunts and uncles because I didn’t want to overwhelm Thomas with both clans at one time, but Scott tagged along.”
Rhys couldn’t hold back an aggrieved groan. He loved his family, but some of them were awfully difficult to like, and Scott was one of them.
“Who’s Scott?” Thomas asked.
“My cousin,” Rhys said sourly. “He’s a pain in the ass.”
“Rhys!” Viv swatted his arm lightly, but the smile she was trying to squelch said she wasn’t all that outraged by his assessment.
“Well, he is.”
Scott had been tugging Rhys’s coattails since they were kids, and Rhys had long ago grown tired of the constant pull.
“He’s ten years younger than me, and he thinks he’s God’s gift to gay men,” he added.
“One ofthose.” Thomas’s mouth quirked in a moue of distaste.
“Yeah, he’s the type who posts club selfies all over his social media. I could have gone my whole life without knowing what my cousin looks like in skinny jeans, a mesh shirt, and body glitter.”
“Jesus God.” Thomas wrapped his arms around Rhys’s bicep and held on tight. “Don’t leave my side.”
“Just be polite. That’s all I ask,” Viv said. “Now would y’all like something to drink? I’ve got tea right here.”
“I’ve got the beer,” Charles called out, and Rhys glanced over to see the open cooler full of ice and beer bottles near the grill.
“Beer?” Rhys raised one eyebrow at Thomas, who nodded.
“Beer.”
“I’ll head on back inside and let everyone know you’re here,” Viv said. “They’ll want to say hello.”
Rhys released a quiet sigh, but he didn’t argue. They were there for Thomas to meet his closest family members, after all, so it couldn’t be put off forever.
“Ready for the onslaught?” He slid his arm around Thomas’s shoulders again as they went to join Charles by the grill, and Thomas wrapped his arm around Rhys’s waist in return, which felt surprisingly good and natural.
“I’m ready,” Thomas said, giving Rhys a little squeeze. “Even for Scott.”
“You say that now…”
