Page 48

“She said I’m an embarrassment. That I’m ruining the family name with my ‘deviant lifestyle.’” Harrison lets out a bitter laugh. “As if the Price name wasn’t already tarnished by the way my parents acquired their money.”

I finally unstick myself from behind the car and walk over, my boots announcing my arrival. Both of them look up at me, and I drop down on Harrison’s other side.

“How much did you hear?” Harrison asks, wiping his eyes.

“Enough.” I bump my shoulder against his. “Your mom’s wrong, you know. There’s nothing deviant about this. Or us.”

“I know that logically,” Harrison says. “But hearing it from her…”

“It still hurts,” Daniel finishes.

I reach over and take Harrison’s hand, lacing our fingers together. His palm is clammy, but he squeezes back.

“It’s just...” Harrison’s voice breaks, and suddenly tears are streaming down his face. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to make her proud. Trying to be the son she wanted. But nothing was ever enough.”

His body starts shaking harder, and my chest tightens, seeing him fall apart like this.

“I was never the perfect son. Never dated the right kind of people.” The words come out between ragged breaths. “I kept thinking if I tried harder, if I was even a little bit better, maybe she’d actually see me. Maybe she’d love me the way I am.”

Daniel pulls him closer, and I wrap my arm around him from the other side, creating a cocoon of warmth around Harrison as he sobs.

“But she won’t. She never will.” His voice is so small now, barely a whisper. “Your mom, Charlie…the way she hugs you and Roy, I’ve never had that.”

My throat becomes incredibly tight. I press my forehead against Harrison’s temple and breathe in the scent of his shampoo mixed with tears.

“I used to watch other kids with their moms at school events,” Harrison continues, his words muffled against Daniel’s shirt. “The way they’d fix their kid’s collar or ruffle their hair. Such simple things. But my mother would stand there like she was at a business meeting, checking her watch.”

Daniel’s jaw is clenched so tight I worry he might crack a tooth. His hand rubs circles on Harrison’s back, steady and soothing.

“The worst part?” Harrison lets out a broken laugh. “I still want her approval. Even now, even after everything, there’s this stupid little kid inside me going ‘maybe if you explain it better, maybe if you try one more time.’”

“H,” I whisper, because I don’t trust my voice to work properly. “You don’t need her approval. You don’t need anyone’s approval.”

“I know,” he says, as fresh tears spill over. “But knowing it and feeling it are two different things.”

We sit there in my parents’ driveway, holding Harrison as he cries out years of rejection and disappointment. His whole body shudders with the force of it, purging the poison from his system.

“You have us,” Daniel says firmly. “You have Charlie’s family. Hell, you’ll have my parents once you meet them, and they’re insufferable half the time.”

That gets a watery chuckle from Harrison.

“And you have Danielle,” I add, “who’d probably key your mom’s car if she knew about this conversation.”

“She would,” Harrison agrees, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “With her car keys shaped like tiny cats.”

“So that’s one best friend, two boyfriends, and two sets of in-laws who won’t give you grief.”

“In-laws?” Harrison asks. “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself there, McManus.”

“Maybe.” I grin. “But I’m an optimist.”

“You’re an idiot,” Harrison says fondly.

“Your idiot,” I correct. “Yours and Danny Boy’s.”

Daniel reaches across Harrison to flick my ear. “Don’t get sappy on us now.”

“Too late. I’m full of sap. I’m basically a maple tree.”

A delivery truck rumbles past, kicking up dust and leaving behind the faint smell of exhaust. The world moves on around us, but here, with Harrison and Daniel, everything is perfectly still .

Harrison’s breathing eventually evens out, and the tension slowly drains from his shoulders.

Sitting here, I realize how lucky I am. A week ago, I was Charlie McManus, a small-town boy playing at being a big-city baseball star. Now I’m Charlie McManus, a guy with two incredible boyfriends who make me feel like I could conquer the world.

Even if one of them just got disowned via phone call.

“Come on,” I say, pulling them both to their feet. “Let’s go inside. Mom’s making cinnamon rolls, and sugar fixes everything.”

“That’s not scientifically accurate,” Daniel points out.

“Shut up and let me have this.”

As we head toward the house, Harrison stops to retrieve his phone from the grass. The screen is cracked, but it still works. He stares at it for a moment, then powers it off completely.

“No more calls today,” he says firmly.

As we step into the kitchen, the warm scent of cinnamon and butter causes my eyes to roll back. Mom’s bent over the counter, drizzling glaze over a tray of perfectly golden cinnamon rolls. She looks up at our entrance, and her smile falters the second she spots Harrison.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she breathes, taking in his puffy eyes and blotchy face.

Mom wipes her hands on her apron and crosses the kitchen in three strides, pulling Harrison into her arms before he can even process what’s happening. And just like that, the dam breaks all over again.

Harrison’s shoulders shake as he buries his face in my mom’s shoulder, his hands clutching at her back as if she might disappear if he lets go.

Fresh tears soak into her flour-dusted shirt, but she doesn’t seem to mind one bit.

She simply holds him tighter, one hand stroking his hair while she makes soft shushing sounds.

“It’s okay, honey. Let it all out,” she murmurs, rocking him gently the same way she used to with me whenever I skinned my knees as a kid .

Daniel and I exchange glances before sliding into the chairs at the kitchen table. My knee bounces anxiously as I watch my mom work her magic, providing the maternal comfort Harrison’s clearly been starved of his whole life.

Harrison’s sobs slowly quiet to sniffles. Mom guides him to a chair, keeping one hand on his shoulder as she grabs a box of tissues from the counter.

“Now then,” she says, settling into the chair beside him. “Tell me what’s got you so upset.”

Harrison blows his nose, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Mrs. McManus. I didn’t mean to?—”

“None of that,” Mom interrupts gently. “You’re family now. And family doesn’t apologize for needing support.”

The word ‘family’ makes Harrison’s eyes well up again, but he manages to keep it together this time.

“My mother called,” he starts, voice hoarse. “She found out about...” He gestures vaguely between Daniel and me. “About us. All three of us.”

Mom’s expression remains open and patient. “And she didn’t take it well?”

A bitter laugh escapes Harrison. “That’s putting it mildly. She called me an embarrassment. Said I was destroying the family reputation with my ‘deviant lifestyle.’” His fingers make air quotes around the words. “Then she cut me off. Financially, emotionally, everything.”

“Oh, honey.” Mom reaches over and takes his hand. “I’m so sorry. No parent should ever make their child feel that way.”

She gives him another hug. When she releases him, she pats his cheek. “Forget about it. Right now, you’re here in Bomont with my wonderful son and his equally wonderful best friend. Er, I guess his boyfriend now. And yours. Although I’m still figuring out the logistics of that.”

“Mom!” I squeak, my face burning.

“What? I’m curious! Do you take turns, or?—”

“And that’s our cue to leave,” I announce, grabbing both my boyfriends and dragging them toward the stairs. “We’ll be in my room. Not doing anything. Just existing. Separately. In different corners.”

Mom’s laughter follows us up the stairs. “Use protection!”

This is how I die. Death by parental embarrassment.

But as we tumble into my room, Harrison laughing for real now and Daniel making jokes about scarring my innocent mother, I think maybe dying happy isn’t the worst way to go.