Page 64 of Don't Puck Up

But the mistakes I’d made with him drove my determination to fix this to even greater heights.

I wanted out of this closet I’d trapped myself in and into the light.

I didn’t care who V was. It didn’t matter. What mattered was how he made us both feel, and not just the spectacular orgasms. He was kind and generous. We had fun together. He’d given us more of himself than any other lover and demanded we do the same.

We’d passed way beyond hookups. Our early times together were the prelude to the main show, but we’d long since transitioned into a relationship, despite us not naming it. V had assured us he wasn’t seeing anyone else. He’d expected the same from us. The visits when we could swing it, the telephone calls and messages, the perpetual longing, and the sheer relief at having him with us screamed that he was our boyfriend.

So, his whole approach with walking away had been misguided. He’d acted thinking leaving us was the only way to protect us. He put what he thought our interests were above his own. I appreciated the sentiment behind them—I really did. The problem was that it was based on an incorrect assumption—that my getting outed wasn’t worth it.

But that’s where he was wrong. It totally was.

Hewas worth it.

Kam was worth it.

So was I.

I wasn’t going to let him walk away. Not now, when I finally knew what path to take. It was as if I’d been standing at a fork in the road for years, forcing Kam and myself into this perpetual limbo. But where he went, we went. Kam and I had fallen hard for him, and now I needed to set the record straight. I needed to fix this so I could remove the roadblocks because that path he’d gone down definitely had the greener grass.

I inhaled slowly and straightened my shoulders. “I want to go home,” I said, then lifted my hands to cup Kam’s face and wiped her tears away with my thumbs.

She nodded slowly and sucked in a shuddery breath. “Yeah. Okay.” Her eyes slipped closed, and another tear ran down her cheek. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and her lip wobbled. “I want to call him. We need to fix this.”

“Can you give me some time, baby?” I asked, then leaned in to kiss her forehead.

“How long, Chris? I don’t want to lose him.”

“Me neither. Give me until the end of the day. Let me figure things out. I promise, it’ll be different this time.”

She sighed, her breath shuddering out of her. Her gaze didn’t leave mine, and I could see the turmoil swirling in the depths of her green eyes. She was torn, a kernel of distrust over the way I handled things with Hux lingering.

This time I wouldn’t fuck up.

Finally, she responded, “We can either book a flight or hire a car and drive home. Which would you prefer?”

“No. Home, home. Boston. I’m ready.”

Herbrows immediately furrowed, and she narrowed her red-rimmed eyes. “Ready for what?” she asked hesitantly. But she already knew.

I ran my thumb over her cheek again, her splotchy skin damp with tears. “You’re so beautiful,” I whispered reverently.

“No, Chris. Don’t change the subject. What are you ready for?”

“To come out.”

Her eyes slipped closed, and she exhaled heavily, the weight of our secret pressing down on her. I knew she’d be the one to pick up the pieces when my family said their piece. She’d done it more than once already—the damage to her relationship with our families and to her career was evidence of just how much of the brunt she’d born. Their general disappointment in me, and now Kam, was why we didn’t go there anywhere near as often as we should.

My mother used her religion as a weapon, convinced that anyone who didn’t follow her faith was below her, and anyone who didn’t look like them—whether because of the color of their skin, their gender identity, or their sexuality—was the enemy of Christ. With the exception of the clusterfuck with TMZ, Kam and I had managed to skate by undetected for so long now that hiding had become second nature when I was with them. But I was about to blow the lid on their view of me and what they believed was the truth of Kam’s actions that they’d clung to.

It would get ugly—Mom was as sweet as pie until you crossed her, then her tongue-lashings were wickedly sharp. Dad was a man of few words, but his actions would speak loudly. I fully expected him to get up and walk out. The only way I had any chance of it not falling to pieces was if Kam’s parents were there too. Her dad was a peacemaker. He would be able to bridge the divide between us. At least I hoped so.

“Are you sure?” she whispered.

I nodded. “Yeah.” I held up my cell phone. “These texts made me realize what I wanted. But, Kam, I want this to be your decision too. My coming out doesn’t just affect me.”

She wrung her hands together. “Are you doing this for you, or for V?”

“I’m ready to come out. I want us to be able to live authentically. I’ve asked a lot of you when it comes to hiding and I’ve given you fewer choices than you deserved. But I want to change that.”