“Won't people recognize you? You keep downplaying your celebrity, but given that kid at the hotel, there’s a better than zero chance someone would realize who you are and post about us online.”
Taylor’s expression turned resolute. “I’ve actually been talking to my agent about coming out. Not right away, but … soon.”
The air left my lungs.
Coming out.
He said it so casually, as if it were just an item on his to-do list. Like it wouldn’t blow up his entire life.
Like it wouldn’t blow upmine.
“Taylor.” I kept my voice low, aware of the sleeping woman next to me. “That’s …" I paused, giving myself time to formulate my thoughts into words that wouldn't sting when I spoke them. "I’m glad you’re at that place in your life, but I need you to understand that’s not an option for me. Not now. Maybe not ever.”
His face fell, the light in his eyes dimming slightly. “I know. I wasn’t suggesting?—”
“I work with senators, governors, people whose careers depend on discretion. I can’t ever become the story,” I explained, my tone defensive. “If I’m outed, I lose everything I’ve built. Everything I’m still trying to build.”
“I get it, Seb. I do.” His voice was gentle, but I couldn’t help notice that his eyes were wounded. “I wouldn’t out you. You know that, right?”
“I know.” And I did, but the fear was still there, coiled tight in my chest. “I just need to make sure we’re clear. Whatever this is,”—I gestured vaguely between us—“has to stay private.”
Taylor was quiet for a long time before nodding. “Okay. Yeah. Not a problem.”
Except I’d just made it a problem.
He’d shared something vulnerable—something immense for a queer person—and I’d responded by drawing a line in the sand:Stay in the closet with me, or we can’t do this.
Taylor pulled back, literally and figuratively, putting an inch of space between our shoulders that felt like a mile.
When he started listing other places we should visit—some lighthouse, a seafood shack he loved, a nature preserve with gorgeous views—his voice lacked its earlier enthusiasm.Itfelt like he was going through the motions, filling the silence because sitting therenotspeaking would’ve been even worse.
I let him talk, half-listening, while part of me stayed trapped in the moment before I’d ruined it—when he’d leaned close and offered me freedom.
I could picture it so clearly: strolling down winding streets with the smell of salt and the sea in the air, Taylor’s hand warm and solid in mine. Walking into shops together without checking over my shoulder. His arm around my shoulders while we stood in line for lunch. Kissing him on a street corner just because I wanted to—because Icould.
I wanted all of that.
Desperately.
But wanting something and being able to have it were two very different things.
What would life be like if I didn’t have to pretend all the goddamn time? If I could do something as simple as hold hands with the man I?—
Nope. Not going there.
I cared about Taylor. Always had, probably always would. But this wasnotlove. It was infatuation, pure and simple. Relief at reconnecting after years apart. Lust, certainly. Butdefinitelynot love.
Why can’t it be love?my subconscious prodded.What if you never stopped loving him?
“... With the top down, the wind in your hair. Nothing like it,” Taylor continued, breaking into my thoughts, his knee bouncing. “You’ll love it.”
I swallowed around the words stuck in my throat. “I’m sure I will,” I agreed, my mind adding, “I’ll love it because it’s with you.”
The thought should have terrified me, but it didn’t. It felt like I was finally giving myself permission to want after years of denial.
When was the last time I prioritized my personal life over work obligations? Frankly, I couldn’t remember, which told me everything I needed to know.
I dragged my gaze away and reached for my iPad again, pressing the calendar icon and scanning my schedule. Aside from a call I’d been unable to move and a Zoom meeting for a charity I was on the board of, there wasn’t anything I couldn’t reschedule or coordinate by email. I was my own boss, and it’d been four years since I’d taken a real vacation.
