“Your place or mine?”
“Doesn’t matter. As long as we’re together.”
He grins. “That was sappy as hell.”
“Yeah. You’re making me soft.”
He releases my hand and closes his fingers around my cock. He strokes me over my jeans. A sharp gasp escapes my lips.
“Nope, feels like you’re pretty hard.”
“Mm, you’d better get me home fast, then,” I say. “So I stay that way.”
epilogue
TATE
SIX MONTHS LATER
The backyard looks exactlylike it did for the family barbecue my parents hosted months ago. Same string lights, same picnic tables, same smell of Dad’s juicy burgers sizzling on the grill. But everything’s different now.
For starters, I’m not hiding anything. Zane stands next to me, beer in hand, talking hockey with Logan and Cam. Nobody’s pretending we’re just coach and player. Nobody’s walking on eggshells.
“You look happy,” Mom says, appearing at my elbow carrying a plate of appetizers.
“I am happy.”
“Good. You deserve it.” She glances at Zane, who’s laughing at something Logan said. “You both do.”
Mark taps his beer bottle with a fork, getting everyone’s attention. The backyard goes quiet except for the music playing from the speakers Dad set up earlier.
“Alright, everybody. Tessa and I have something to tell you.”
Tessa steps up next to him, grinning like she’s got the world’s best secret.
“We’re engaged,” Mark announces, holding up Tessa’s hand so everyone can see the ring.
The backyard erupts. Mom starts crying immediately. Dad slaps Mark on the back. Ethan jumps around like someone just told him Christmas came early.
I hug my brother, then Tessa, genuinely happy for them. They’re great together. They make sense in a way that looks easy but probably isn’t.
“About time,” I say to Mark.
“Says the guy who took how many years to admit he was gay?”
“Fair point.”
The party goes strong around us. People are drinking, laughing, and now celebrating the love between these two amazing people. It’s nice. Normal. And, I think as I lace my fingers with Zane’s, the kind of thing I never dreamed I’d have.
“Speech!” someone calls out. Probably Cam, who never knows when to shut up.
“Speech! Speech!” The whole backyard takes up the chant.
Mark waves them off, but Tessa pushes him toward the makeshift dance floor Dad built out of milk crates and plywood.
“You’re doing this,” she says to him.
“Fine. But if I embarrass myself, it’s your fault.”
