“Maybe it’s time for you to make a gesture? Show them what they mean to you, after they’ve made the big leap of inviting you in?”
I glanced down at the box again and thought about the course of my life and all the different ways I had imagined I might live. I thought about the family that was taken away from me, and the family I could build, too.
“You think I should tell them that I love them?” I hadn’t quite accepted if that were true or not, but standing there with Alyssa, it seemed ridiculous to deny it.
“Is that how you feel?”
“It is.”
“Oh, Grayson,” she said warmly. “I’m really happy for you. And yes, as soon as you’re ready, I think you should tell them. There’s no reason to wait.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, then nodded. Alyssa was right, and it wasn’t like I could keep a secret from the guys anyway. Now that I knew I loved them, the truth was likely to come out at any minute.
But love was a lot more complicated than any easy answer, especially when there were three hearts involved. And with my past and future all around me, I realized, there was much more for us to learn about each other still.
And somehow, there was even more for me to learn about myself.
* * *
Demir had planned for Marco and me to both meet up at the loft that night for dinner. I had gotten so used to him and Marco working late, I almost lost track of time and had to hurry out the door of my apartment at the last minute.
Dinner was delicious, with a medley of late summer vegetables served with tofu and rice and a peanut sauce that really hit the spot. Demir seemed a little quieter than usual and he kept sipping from his wine at one end of the dinner table, his thoughts drifting. Marco didn’t mind picking up the slack, however, and he entertained me with a long story about a drag queen who performed at the Forty-Eight on Fridays and a wig that Alex swore he thought was his own.
When dinner was finished, I expected us to slip back into our normal evening routine. I was too emotionally exhausted from going through pictures with Alyssa to even think about sex, but I was hoping to curl up between the two guys on the couch with a movie, assuming they didn’t disappear back into work.
Instead, however, Demir cleared his throat. Marco and I both turned, and I saw Marco arch an eyebrow dramatically, clearly as surprised as I was.
“I actually had something else I wanted to talk to you both about,” Demir said. “If now is a good time.”
Marco scrunched his face, and I tried to read his expression. Was he concerned? Angry?
“Now is good,” he said simply.
I nodded. “Sure, I can talk.” Despite the uncertainty on Marco’s face, I still felt excited, a silly idea that Demir was ready to announce his love filling my head.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about The Forty-Eight,” he said, “and about the future of the club. It was all I was thinking about, in fact, until you came along, Grayson. But once you started spending your nights here, and once Marco and I realized how important you were to us, I began to see things differently.”
“Babe,” Marco said softly, “if this is about the club…”
“Hear me out?” Demir asked. “That’s all I need.”
Marco nodded, and Demir continued. “You both know I’ve made some mistakes with the business lately. We’ve got a competitor at our front door, a major development that’s stuck at stage one, and I’ve already sunk fifty thousand dollars with nothing to show for it.”
My gut twisted when I heard the amount of money. I knew the club was successful, but I couldn’t imagine spending that kind of cash to just get a renovation started.
Demir went to his briefcase, which was waiting on the counter, and pulled out some papers. “But then last week, an idea hit me out of nowhere. After you left one morning, Grayson, Marco and I joked that your apartment was basically turning into an artist studio instead of a home. And then I got to thinking about that first time I was in your place, when you were still figuring your organization out and about the trip we made together to the craft center.”
“Sure,” I said, uncertain where he was going. “I loved showing you around.”
“And I loved seeing it,” Demir said, his excitement rising. He brought the papers to the table, then dropped them down.
“What’s this?” Marco asked.
“Every projection I’ve done this summer. Every attempt to find a way to keep The Forty-Eight profitable with the club across the street and to still make the addition make sense. And do you know what I came up with?” He dropped the last of the papers on the table. “Bullshit. Nothing.”
“Until last week,” Marco said, his voice tense. “When you figured out the perfect club to build.” He sounded frustrated, almost angry, a tone I was surprised to hear in his voice.
“Hell no,” Demir said with a laugh. “I realized we shouldn’t build the addition at all.”
