We lay there in comfortable silence for a while. I traced patterns on his arm where it was wrapped around me, feeling the solid weight of him at my back. This was my favorite part of the day. I loved these quiet moments before the world intruded, when it was just us.
“My mom texted,” I said eventually.
Kent’s arm tightened around me. “Yeah? What’d she say?”
“Asking how things are. How you’re settling in.”
“What’d you tell her?”
“Nothing yet.” I turned in his arms so I could see his face. “I don’t know what to tell her.”
Kent was quiet for a moment, his eyes searching mine. “Do you want to tell her?”
“I don’t know.” I traced the line of his jaw with my finger. “Part of me does. But the other part is terrified of how they’d react. Your dad especially.”
“Yeah.” Kent’s expression darkened. “My dad would lose his shit. Probably disown me.”
“Would that bother you?”
He considered the question seriously. “A month ago, I would’ve said yes. Now?” He shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s already disappointed in me for breaking up with Brittany and he’s been such a dickhead. What’s one more thing?”
“Kent—”
“I’m not saying I want to tell them,” he clarified quickly. “I don’t really want to tell anyone. I’m just saying that if it came down to choosing between you and his approval, I know which one I’d pick.”
The words settled over me like a blanket, warm and reassuring. I leaned in and kissed him, soft and slow, trying to pour everything I was feeling into it.
When I pulled back, Kent was smiling. “What was that for?”
“Just because.” I kissed him again. “You hungry? I was thinking about taking you out for breakfast.”
“You mean like at a restaurant?”
“Yeah, there’s this cute little place that makes really good pancakes if you want to try it. But only if you want to,” I added quickly. “I know a crowded restaurant is a lot different than a dark movie theater.”
Kent’s expression shifted, something vulnerable flickering across his face before he masked it. “I want to,” he said quietly. “I mean, it’s just breakfast, right? Two stepbrothers grabbing food. Nothing suspicious about that.”
“Right,” I agreed, even though we both knew it felt like more than that. Everything felt like more than it was now.
He climbed out of bed, stretching in a way that made his t-shirt ride up and expose a strip of skin that I definitely didn’t need to be distracted by this early in the morning. “Give me twenty minutes to shower and get ready.”
“Take your time. I need to respond to a couple emails, anyway.”
I watched him disappear into the bathroom, heard the water start running a moment later. My phone was still on the counter where I’d left it, my mom’s message glowing accusingly on the screen. I picked it up, staring at it for a long moment before typing out a response.
Me: Things are good. Kent’s doing well. Work is busy. Will call you soon.
It wasn’t a lie, exactly. Just an incomplete version of the truth. The full truth, that Kent and I were sleeping together, that I was pretty sure I was falling in love with him, that we were sneaking around like teenagers… That would have to wait. Maybe forever.
I pushed the thought aside and focused on getting dressed. By the time Kent emerged from the bathroom, hair damp and smelling like my body wash, I was ready to go.
The drive to the diner took about fifteen minutes. It was a hole-in-the-wall place I’d discovered during my first year in college, tucked between a laundromat and a used bookstore. The kind of place that looked sketchy from the outside but served the best blueberry pancakes I’d ever tasted.
“This is it?” Kent asked as I pulled into the small parking lot.
“Don’t judge. Trust me.”
Inside, the diner was exactly as I remembered. It was full of vinyl booths, checkered floors, and the smell of coffee and bacon heavy in the air. We slid into a booth near the back, and a waiter appeared almost immediately with menus and coffee.
