Page 123 of The Right Kind of Wrong

Even hearing the word dating sent a nervous skitter through her. They were decidedly not dating. That required, well, dates.

“What’s going on with you?” Monroe deflected. “Are you dating your mystery man?”

“He’s private.” Denny looked around the arcade, fidgeting awkwardly.

Monroe schooled him with a judgmental look. “Is that code for married?”

Denny shook his head vehemently. “Absolutely not. But you know what it can be like here. He’s a business owner, and it’s not like we need to go around having romantic dates or something.”

The idea of taking Blake out, on a real date, flitted through Monroe’s mind.

She quickly banished the thought.

She wouldn’t even know where to take her. And they didn’t have that kind of relationship. Their situation was supposedly built on not making either of their lives more complicated.

Monroe could only imagine what the town gossip mill would do to Blake if they found out that she and Monroe were sleeping together. Other people becoming involved would definitely upset the delicate balance they were traversing.

After checking that Maisie was still happily slaying zombies, she turned her attention back to Denny. “What do y’all do together, then?” Monroe’s cheeks heated as she quickly added, “Besides the obvious.”

Denny shrugged, but he got this goofy grin on his face that Monroe knew meant her friend was in big trouble. In their adolescence, Denny had had a huge crush on her brother, Dean. He’d had that same stupid smile then, too.

It was the entire reason Denny knew so much about cars. Whenever Dean was out working on a fixer-upper, Denny would find his way outside, just to see if Dean needed any help.

He’d been transparent as all hell, but at least he’d gotten a few life skills out of it.

Finally, he told her, “The usual things. We play cards. Watch sports.” Denny laughed. “Shockingly, he’s a bit of a coffee snob. In the mornings, he’ll make some ridiculous concoction and force me to try it.”

Monroe softened against her side of the booth. Denny was in love. It was written across his face clear as day.

There was something pinging in her peripheral, but it didn’t quite make sense.

“Where did you two even meet?” Monroe asked, trying to walk through a day in Denny’s life. “All you do is hang out with me and work and⁠—”

Denny’s whole demeanor changed, and an image of an iced matcha latte, always grabbed quickly so that it was as cold as possible, hurtled into her brain. “Gumby?” she whispered, leaning across the table. “He’s old enough to be your dad!”

“His name is Ben, actually. Gumby’s just a childhood nickname.” From the tips of Denny’s ears down to his chin was a vibrant shade of red that Monroe had never seen on a person before. “And that’s not true. He’s only fifteen years older than I am. So, yeah, technically he could be my dad.” Then, Denny realized the most important point for rebuttal” “Sylvia was twenty years older than you! Real pot calling the kettle black.”

“We’re not talking about me,” Monroe said smugly, excitement racing through her at the discovery of Denny’s boyfriend’s identity after months of wondering.

“Not for lack of trying,” Denny huffed.

Monroe grinned and threw a wadded-up straw paper at him. “How long has this been going on?”

“A couple of years,” he mumbled, suddenly very interested in watching Maisie exact her revenge on those zombies.

Monroe wasn’t sure what the rules on screen time were, but she should probably drag her niece away from all the graphic, blue-lit violence soon.

But first— “That sounds pretty serious, Denny.”

Denny gulped, and for a second, she thought that he was going to try and slip out of being honest. Instead, he sat up straighter in the booth. “I’m serious about him. I hope that he feels the same way. I spend most of my time at his place these days. I mainly just keep my own apartment for appearances.”

Monroe pursed her lips before asking, “Do you think it would really cause that much of an issue? Everyone loves you both. Is the town still that rooted in the past?”

Denny gave her a noncommittal shrug. “Is it worth it to find out? We like our life the way that it is. No sense throwing everyone into a tizzy when it wouldn’t really change things for us.”

She tried to stop it, but her mouth twisted into a sneer. “This town is so fucking judgmental.”

Denny could say whatever helped him sleep at night, but she knew in her bones that living a closeted life wasn’t what he wanted. And even if he was happy to be private, he shouldn’t have to worry that he’d be cast out because he was in love with another man.