"Good." I dried the last dish and hung up the towel. "That's exactly where I want to be."
"Beau said the same thing about me once." Jackson leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "Said I looked at him like he hung the moon."
"And?"
"And he was right." His expression softened in that way it only did when he talked about his husband. "Letting myself fall was the best thing that ever happened to me."
I knew what he was really saying. That it was okay to let myself feel this deeply, this quickly. That what Tanner and I had was real, even if it had only been a short time.
"Thanks," I said quietly.
He nodded and pushed off the counter. "I'm heading out. Beau wanted to watch some documentary about wolves or some shit. You good here?"
"Yeah, I'm good."
After he left, I made my way to the living room. Tanner looked up as I approached, his whole face lighting up in a way that never failed to make my chest warm.
"Hey, Daddy," he said softly, mindful of Elton and Sean nearby even though they both knew about us.
"Hey, bud. You about ready to head up?"
He glanced at the cards in his hand, then at Sean. "Can we finish this round first?"
"Course we can," Sean said, grinning at me. "Won't take but a minute. I'm about to destroy him anyway."
"Are not!" Tanner protested, but he was smiling.
I settled onto the arm of the couch to watch, enjoying the easy banter between them. Tanner had needed this—friends, community, people who cared about him outside of what he could do for them professionally.
True to Sean's word, the game wrapped up quickly. Tanner did lose, but he didn't seem to mind, laughing as Sean did a ridiculous victory dance.
"Alright, alright," I said, standing and offering Tanner my hand. "Come on. Let's get you upstairs."
He took my hand and let me pull him to his feet. "I'm not a sore loser."
"Uh-huh." I guided him toward the stairs, calling goodnight to Sean and Elton over my shoulder.
"I'm not!" Tanner insisted as we climbed the stairs. "I just think Sean might have been cheating."
"He absolutely was," I confirmed. "He does it every time."
"Then why didn't you say something?"
"Because watching you try to figure out how he was doing it was more entertaining."
He swatted at my arm playfully, and I caught his hand, bringing it to my lips to press a kiss to his knuckles.
At the door to his room—our room, really, since I'd been sleeping there every night—I stopped him before he could go in. I needed to hint at the gift without giving anything away.
"What?" he asked, looking up at me with curious eyes.
"There might be something waiting for you in there. I came up here before and saw it, which is why I came to get you."
His eyes widened. "Another gift? You should have said something!"
I couldn't quite hide my smile. "Go look."
He pushed open the door, and I followed him in, watching as his gaze immediately found the wrapped package on the bed. He approached it slowly, almost reverently, like each gift was still a surprise even though he had to know by now that his Secret Santa was consistently thoughtful.
