“Talon,think about this,” Luke says, placing a hand on my shoulder. I’ve never been repulsed by my brother’s touch until this moment. “You go out to Montana, straight, single, and the new owner of a ski resort. You come home, suddenlydating a guywho would behomeless againif you hadn’t let him move in with you, and who just sohappensto want to move to New York to chase some acting dream. How can you not see what’s going on?”
“Lukas, maybe we should all—” my mom starts, but Luke cuts her off.
“No, Mom. I know Talon wants to find his person. Hell,Iwas the one who told him not to tell people who he really was so he could find someone without his money coming into play, butthis?”
For the first time in my life, my parents look at me with pity in their eyes, and I hate it. They’re buying Lukas’s bullshit.
I understand now why Zeke refuses everyone’s help the way he does. Having their pity makes me feel fucking helpless.
My phone buzzes with a text message. Thankful for the distraction, I open it to find a picture message from Eloise. It’s a shot of her and Zeke in the center of a giant fitting room, standing on the small platform in the center with mirrors behind them.
Eloise is radiant, as always. Zeke is in a cream cable-knit sweater with brown, wide-leg tweed trousers and a belted mahogany leather trench coat. With his wire-rimmed glasses and stoic expression, he looks like a fucking model.
Zeke is effortlesslyNew Yorkin a way I’ve neverbeen.
“Is that him?” my mom asks, drawing my eyes away from my screen.
“Oh, uh, it’s Eloise actually, but she sent a picture with him in it,” I say, rambling unnecessarily.
“Can I see it?” my mom asks.
Part of me doesn’t want to share Zeke with them if their initial reaction is to accept Lukas’s words over knowing Zeke for themselves. But the bigger part of me is so damn proud of him that I hand the phone over anyway.
I hear it buzz in her hands, and I watch her expression soften as she scans the message.
“He’s a beautiful boy. Bring him to dinner tomorrow,” she says, handing my phone back to me. “We’ll get to know him and…go from there.”
The message on my phone says:
Eloise
How hot is this?
Once the phoneis back in my hands, it’s followed by more messages.
Eloise
All I could get him to buy so far were socks.
SOCKS, TAL.
I told him this outfit was perfect for Broadway, and that’s the ONLY reason he would let me swipe your card.
(Well, that and I told him either you were buying it for him or I was, and if he let ME buy him clothes and not you, you’d be sad)
I wantto shove my phone in everyone’s faces and yell ‘I told you so!’ like a child, but I keep the texts to myself. Although when the next one comes in, a snort of laughter escapes, and I’m glad I’m the one holding the phone.
Eloise
And I MIGHT have told him that you owe him this outfit anyway, since you used to spend at LEAST this much on porn, but now that you have him, you’re saving oodles. LOVE YOU!
Me
Gee, thanks, El.
I hastily exitour conversation and open my texts to Zeke. I know my family is watching me, and our meeting has probably started down the hall already, but they can spare thirty more seconds.
Me
