“Yeah.” Thad dragged a hand over his face, his whiskers rasping against his palm loud enough Graham could hear it. “I think so. Still a little bit in shock. But I’m okay.”
“You’re telling me,” Graham said with a laugh. “Youdidn’t have to find out your dad was bi and had a crush on his racquetball partner. What the fuck?”
Thad laughed. “Yeah, fair. I owe him for the distraction there.”
“It did break the ice,” Graham agreed. “And I fuckin’ love Brody.”
Thad grinned. “He seems great. Cory does too.”
“Yeah, they are.” Graham hesitated. “And Mom?”
Thad let out a heavy breath. “I—I have to admit it’s hard to break out of the mindset that anyone working in the prosecutor’s office is anything but the enemy but I think she and I could find some common ground. She seems open-minded and as long as her talk about restorative justice isn’t only lip-service, I respect that.”
“It isn’t,” Graham assured him. “But I get if you need a little bit of time before you can trust that.”
Thad gave him a faint smile.
“Do you need to talk to Harlan now?” Graham asked.
Thad squinted at the ceiling for a moment. “Nah. I think I’m okay. We have an appointment next week. I’ll email him to let him know how the call went though.”
Harlan had promised Thad he would leave an hour open for an emergency session this morning, if necessary. Honestly, Grahamfelt like the conversation had gone well, but it was good Thad didn’t feel like he’d need to talk through it with his therapist.
Thad reached behind him, fumbling for his phone on the coffee table.
“A little left,” Graham told him as he missed it by about six inches. “No, yourotherleft, dumbass.”
Thad grumbled but finally snagged the phone. “He tells me he loves me, then calls me a dumbass.”
Graham laughed. “What? That’s not a good pet name? It’s definitely a term of endearment in locker rooms.”
“In locker rooms, sure. For boyfriends? No,” Thad said, squeezing his hip, but he was smiling as he typed something on his phone with his left hand.
Graham studied Thad’s face while he did it, his own smile widening when he realized there was a lot more silver sprinkled in Thad’s stubble and hairline than he’d ever seen before.
“What?” Thad asked, squinting and sounding suspicious when he finally dropped his phone on his chest.
“When did you stop dying your hair?” Graham brushed his thumb across the salt-and-pepper hairs along Thad’s jaw.
“Oh.” Thad shot him a crooked grin. “I was wondering when you’d notice.”
“So …” Graham prompted.
“A week or two ago. I ran out of dye and I thought … you know, maybe I’d give it a try. See how I like looking my age. See howyoulike me looking my age.”
“It’s kindahot,” Graham admitted.
Thad side-eyed him. “Yeah? We’ll see what you think when it’s all grown out and I look like an old man.”
Graham shrugged. “I still bet I’ll find it hot.”
“We can hope.”
“You’re growing your chest hair out too, aren’t you?” Graham said, trying to undo a button on Thad’s shirt one-handed. It wasn’t going well. “You seemed kinda stubbly in the shower this morning.”
Thad lifted an eyebrow. “I was considering it, yeah.”
“Do it,” Graham said, finally working one open. “I want to know what you look like with fur.”
