I inconspicuously leaned my left leg toward Alex, brushing our knees together to show him I wasn’t talking about anyone else but him. He stiffened for a second, but then nudged his leg back against mine.
“Sounds lovely. If you ever want to bring someone home, you know you’re always welcome to, yeah?” Mom turned to Dad. “No matter who it is, right?”
“Definitely,” he agreed.
My eyes narrowed at her strange phrasing. Up until now, she had always asked specifically about women. But before I could follow that train of thought, Alex scooted off the bench.
“I’m going to wash my hands before the food comes,” he said, strolling away.
Maybe it was my imagination, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that his reason for leaving wasn’t the one he gave us.
“Really,” Dad said, fixing his eyes on me with the seriousness that always adorned his face. “We’ve had our rough patches, but… we want you to know we’d welcome anyone you want to spend your life with into our home.”
There it was again. He didn’t say “a woman,” he said “anyone.”
My eyes darted between them. Mom kneaded her hands while Dad clutched his beer glass. I shifted in my seat. My legs trembled.Was this something we needed to talk about?
“But take your time,” Dad added, resting his arms on his belly as he stared into the distance. “We’ve rushed too many things in the past already.”
I could’ve asked what exactly he meant by that, but I figured this wasn’t a time for a discussion. Not only had they basicallyjust told me that they already knew I was gay—and that they would support me—but I also couldn’t ignore the feeling that I should check in on Alex.
“Thank you,” I said instead. “I will.”
Dad nodded, and so did I, making it clear that this was a point we both saw eye to eye on. It didn’t change that I wouldn’t have brought anyone home until recently—not even if it had been a woman—but it was nice to basically have them tell me that they would be fine if I brought home a boyfriend. Though only time would tell whether they would actually live up to it.
I looked over my shoulder and spotted Alex turning into a small corridor at the other end of the diner.
“You know what, I think I’ll go wash my hands, too, if that’s okay.”
“Good idea,” Dad said, taking another sip of his beer.
Mom and I shared another smile as I climbed out of my seat and hurried through the restaurant. I’d have to be quick if I wanted to catch Alex in private.
A small sign pointed toward the restrooms down the corridor Alex had taken. Wall lights showed me the way to a door in the back with a “Men’s Room” sign next to it.
Inside, I found modern black tiles and a wall-length mirror above a stone sink with three faucets. Alex stood at the one on the left, letting the water run over his hands. Our eyes met through the mirror. The soft, indirect light made his eyes sparkle. Neither of us said anything until the door swung shut behind me.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
He put on a soft smile and shook some water off his hands.“Yeah?” He grabbed three paper towels from the dispenser next to him and rubbed them over his hands. “Oh, did you think I left because of Laura’s question?”
“Just wanted to make sure.” I stepped closer. “You know I meantyouwhen I said there was someone, right?”
He tossed the towels into the bin under the dispenser, but couldn’t hide his grin. “So, I’m not a side chick?”
“Bold of you to assume I have enough time to juggle several relationships at once.” I took another step forward, leaving only inches between us. “And even if I did, I’d dump all of them now. I haven’t met anyone as interesting as you. Ever.”
“Now you’re just trying to sweet-talk me.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
Soft ambient music filled the silence for a few seconds, our heartbeats syncing with its slow rhythm. My right hand moved forward, pausing just before it reached his, then carefully tapped his skin. He opened his palm, allowing our fingers to interlace, and as they did, our chests met.
We pressed our lips together in a kiss that began softly but quickly deepened. Our tongues found each other, but as my left hand moved up his back toward his hair, I pulled away.
“We have to stop. One more second, and I’ll rip your clothes off in a way that will be hard to explain to anyone out there,” I panted, staring at the floor tiles. “It’s only what—sixteen more hours?” I looked at him. “Or three, if I sneak into your room tonight?”
“Risky.” Alex swallowed. “Although we didn’t exactly care about the full house last time.”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“Three hours,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “We can survive that.”
