“I knew what you meant,” he finally managed after the ridiculous guffawing ceased. “I just enjoy flustering you.”
“Really?” I asked as I rolled my eyes. “Never noticed.”
The light turned green, and he drove two more blocks before veering into a small parking lot in front of a one-story cement building.
A large hand-painted rainbow arched from the ground on one side of the door to the ground on the other side, originating and ending in a painted fluffy cloud. To the left of the door, a sign readTrue Colors LGBTQA+ Youth Center. All Welcome.
“How’d you get involved here?” I asked as he backed into a spot as far from the entrance as he could pick.
“A friend of mine volunteered here in college.” His face lit up as he spoke. “I tagged along one day when I was bored and have been coming ever since. Missed the fuck outta this place while I was gone.”
It didn’t mesh with the high school boy I’d known who called mefreeloader, but it jived with the man I’d come to know today—the generous, non-judgmental man who’d helped my family and me without question. Despite living in wildly different tax brackets, he hadn’t batted an eye at where I lived and didn’t seem to think less of me today. It was exactly what I needed to shed any lingering hold our past had on me.
He killed the engine, which I had no idea how he remembered to do since his electric vehicle didn’t make a damn sound, then turned to me. “Ready?”
A sudden drenching wave of nervousness washed over me. “Yeah,” I said with all the confidence I could muster. I was shit with kids—wait, was I? Maybe not, but I had less than zero experience with them, so who knew? But I’d basically raised Kenny, and look how he turned out. He certainly wasn’t a ringing endorsement of my skills in mentoring the youth.
“Ready.”
“Great. Let’s do it.” He climbed out of the car as comfortably as if he were heading into his apartment. I followed suit with a bit less enthusiasm, but I tried to keep the terror off my face.
“Alex, relax,” he said with a chuckle. “You’re not going in for a root canal. They’re just a bunch of kids.”
“That might be easier,” I muttered.
Laughing and shaking his head, he took my hand and tugged me across the parking lot. “Come on, Mr. Anti-Social, imparting some wisdom to the youth of our city will be good for you.
“I’m not anti-social,” I said, refusing to melt over the way he still held my hand. I guess this was one of the perks of having a boyfriend. “I socialize my ass off four nights a week.”
“That’s not socializing. That’s work.”
Touché.
As we reached the door, I wondered what he’d do if I dropped his hand and raced back to the car like a world-class pussy. But as I prepared to loosen my grip, Ryder abruptly stopped and turned to face me. “Thanks for coming with me, Alex. This is… well, this is important to me, and it means a lot to share it with you.” A lightning-quick flash of uncertainty crossed the face of this self-assured man, whose confidence frequently crossed the line to blatant arrogance. “Even my family doesn’t know I volunteer here.”
This was a big deal to him. He let me into the most private and sacred part of his life.
I cleared my throat before I did something unthinkable, like choke up, then said, “We better get in. They might fire you if you’re late.”
He grinned and squeezed my hand, seeming to understand the subtext for the sappy excitement over the invitation that it was, even if I worried I’d embarrass the hell out of him by crashing and burning with the kids.
Ryder pulled open the heavy door and gestured for me to enter before him. When I narrowed my eyes, he laughed, then whispered, “You got me. I’m not just a polite boy. Sue me for wanting an extra peek of your ass.”
My eyes widened, and I elbowed him as I passed—that devil. Now, I was going to be walking into a youth center fighting an erection. Perfect.
I stepped in, and a rush of warmth spilled over me like a rolling wave. The air smelled faintly of vanilla and fresh paint. A low hum of laughter, music, and muffled conversations blended, creating a gentle atmosphere of controlled chaos.
A mural stretched along the main wall—another radiant rainbow stretching across a clear blue sky dotted with plush white clouds. Bold, encouraging affirmations decorated the wall above and below the arc of the rainbow.
You are loved.
Your voice matters.
Be proud.
There were at least a dozen other mantras to empower the kids in a way I never had been. Sure, I was damn lucky my mom never gave me grief about my sexuality, but that was more because her days were consumed with her illness. I didn’t begrudge her that, and I’d take mild apathy over belittlement from a parent any day, but it would have been amazing to hear some of these declarations as a confused teenage boy.
Cushioned benches lined the walls of the open space. Some were scattered with mismatched but plush pillows in every color imaginable. Teens and tweens clustered around a wide, low coffee table in the center of the room, playing an intense game of Uno while another group leaned over a half-finished jigsaw puzzle, and another group sat at a table, completing what appeared to be homework. On the far side of the room, a rainbow flag draped across a doorframe led to a cozy lounge area, where a few kids curled up with books or tapped away at their phones.
