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Gavin snickers. “Oh, they both think it’s hot as hell. Back when we were all newly married, they may have watched us a time or two to see what two guys getting it on looked like.”

“They watched?! Like,watched-watched?” I croak out.

Gavin throws his head back and laughs. “I forget how young you are sometimes, Elliot. Yes, they ‘watched-watched.’ Anna was curious to see if the rumors about Jack’s dick-tugging fingers were true.”

“And were they?” I ask before I can think better of it. “True, I mean.”

Gavin winks at me, and a smug, cat-that-got-the-cream grin spreads across his face. “Oh, they were true, alright—more than true. Jack Donovan is a goddamn artist with those hands, let me tell you.”

I make a garbled noise in the back of my throat. I can’t believe I’m sitting here with Gerard’s dad, casually discussing his sex life with Gerard’s hard-ass coach. What even is my life right now?

Noticing my discomfort, Gavin leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “Elliot, I’m telling you all this because I want you to understand something. I’m bisexual, and I’m damn proud of it. It’s a huge part of who I am. And if that’s what Gerard ends up identifying as, too, I couldn’t be happier. I’ll support and love him no matter what.”

I blink back the sudden tears that threaten to spill out. Gavin’s easy acceptance and unconditional love for his son is overwhelming in the best way possible. “Thank you for sharing all ofthis with me. For trusting me with your story. It means more than I can say.”

Gavin reaches across the desk to squeeze my hand. “You’re important to Gerard, Elliot. And that means you’re important to me, too. I want you to know you can always come to me about anything.”

I nod, too choked up to speak. God, how did I get this lucky to stumble into this incredible family? This absolute acceptance and support are everything I never knew I needed.

Our tender moment is interrupted when the study door bursts open. Gerard stumbles in, wearing a tight T-shirt and a pair of navy-blue sweatpants. My mouth goes dry at the sight.

Gerard takes one look at my tear-streaked face and rounds on his father, his expression thunderous. “Dad, what the—what did you say to him?”

Gavin holds up his hands in surrender. “Relax, Ger-Bear. Elliot and I were having a nice heart-to-heart, that’s all.”

Gerard turns back to me and searches my face. “Elliot? Is that true? Are you okay?”

I wipe my eyes. “Yes, it’s true. And I’m more than okay. Your dad and I were…bonding.”

Gerard glances between us suspiciously, clearly not buying it. I roll my eyes and stand up, crossing the room to him. I press my hands against his chest, feeling his heart thump steadily beneath my palm.

“Seriously, Gerard. Everything’s fine,” I assure him. Then, unable to resist, I smack his chest lightly. “Although, I can’t believe you never told me your dad used to date your coach! That’s pertinent information to share with your boyfriend, no?”

Gerard’s eyes widen comically. He gapes at me, then at his dad, then back at me. “I—what? You…he—what?”

Gavin chuckles. “Close your mouth, son. You’ll catch flies.”

Gerard snaps his mouth shut, still stunned. “I didn’t think—I mean, it never came up?”

I snort. “Babe. Your dad just told me that your coach has, andI quote, ‘dick-tugging fingers.’ That’s not something that ‘never comes up.’”

Gerard flushes bright red, the color spreading down his neck and chest. Riling Gerard up is fun, and I now know what I want to be when I grow up.

A Gunnarson.

33

ELLIOT

Jackson looks like death warmed over; his ordinarily sun-kissed skin is now pale, and his brown eyes are glassy with fever.

“Hey, Elliot.” His voice is extremely hoarse, and it pains me to hear it. “How was your trip?”

“It was…interesting,” I say, trying to find the right word to describe the whirlwind that was Thanksgiving with Gerard’s family. “How are you holding up?”

Jackson groans and flops back against his pillows. “This flu is kicking my ass.”

I frown in concern. “I’m sorry, Jackson. I wish I could be there to take care of you.”