“What’s wrong, buddy?” I ask him when he lifts his head to sniff back tears.
“I love you so much, Dad,” he whimpers, and a wave of relief nearly levels me entirely.
“I love you too, Brode,” I tell him, giving him a tight squeeze. “I’m not an embarrassment to you now, am I?”
He shakes his head, swiping at his tear-streaked cheeks before burying it in the crook of my neck again.
“You know what that makesusnow, Brody?” Cameron asks, trying to sound helpful.
“What?” Brody responds, his voice muffled by my shirt.
“Allies,” Cameron says proudly. “We’re, like, super special supporters of the Queer community. That means we have an important role to fill, you know.”
I can feel him smile on my skin, and the realization that the prospect of his understanding, and perhaps even championing for queer inclusion, makes him happy has me breathing a huge sigh of relief.
Suddenly, however, the smile vanishes. “You’re not going to leave Mum, are you?” he asks me, murmuring into my shoulder.
“Never in a million, billion,trillionyears. Your mom is stuck with me forever.” I wink at her and she beams. “You both are.”
Caleb flashes his hands. “Should we go?” he asks, tilting his head at Cameron. “Do you guys need some space?”
Without releasing Brody, I mouth the wordnoat him. On that, he and Cameron both start rifling through the food bin, yanking out the ingredients for s’mores. In truth, I feel like Caleb and Cameron should stick around for this because if they’re going to start integrating into our fold, they should be privy toeverything, because, in a way, this affects us all.
This is how we start becoming a family. Together. As a whole, united front—one that openly communicates withone another. That, I’ve learned tonight, is the only way we’ll be able to handle whatever uncharted waters we sail into.
“Morning,” Caleb signs to me as soon as I pop my head out of mine and Lo’s tent.
He’s at the picnic table, preparing coffee by grinding beans by hand with some camping kitchen contraption he brought with him. Lord, and isn’t he a sight for sore eyes. He’s shirtless, and the waistband of his joggers is slung low across his hips—his treasure trail and Adonis belt on full display. A chain dangles from his neck, two rings nestled together between his pecs. Of course, he’d have to go all full-on sex appeal by pairing all that with a backwards cap on, because why the hell not, right?
He’s hot, and he knows it.
All it takes is one long, appraising sweep of him, and I know that my morning wood has morphed into pure arousal. Fortunately enough, it looks like me and him are the only ones awake, so I do nothing to cover up the fact that I’m currently tenting this nightshirt big time as I push up to a stand. His eyes catch on it instantly, and he smirks.
“My eyes are up here,” I taunt, my voice hoarse from sleep.
He sets down the grinder and signs, “Wasn’t trying to gaze into your eyes, asshole.”
I chuckle, sauntering over to the picnic table and plopping down sideways on the bench across from him. “So, that’s how it’s going to be? We’re always going to hurl shitty pet names at one another?You call Lo things like ‘sweetheart’ and ‘babe,’ but ‘asshole’ is reserved specifically for me?”
Thoroughly unamused is the best way I can think of to describe the look he shoots me back. “You know I mean it all in jest, right?” he asks, tossing me back the same question I’d asked him last night. “I mean, if all we’re ever going to be is bros who just fuck around with one another, then maybe you’d like for me to call you by just your last name. Is that what you want, A-N-T-O-N-U-C-C-I?”
I absently run my finger up the woodgrain on the table. “No.”
He looks around before rounding the table and slotting himself in the space between my thighs. He sighs as his hands fall to the top of my legs. Finally, he lifts them again and signs, “What are we, then?”
I lick my lips, unsure of how to answer. “I thought that morning after the Fourth of July, we said we were going to just be there for Lauren. Like, she would be our hinge in this relationship…”
He smirks. “By the end of that day out on the boat, I was already flirting with you again, Marcus. I only agreed to it because I thought that’s whatyouwanted.”
“That’s because that’s what Ididwant at the time.”
“It’s not anymore?”
My eyes flit between both of his, which look more gray now in the morning light. Slowly, I shake my head. “No. I think I was more scared than anything by how quickly I wanted to jump right back into things with you after a decade. Things obviously can change in a span of time like that. Not to mention, there were things we kept from one another back then. Clearly verybigthings, because now I know you had a son that entire time.”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t even know Cameron back then, but things did change in the time we were apart. I met someone, fell madly in love, and got married to him—Aaron Dupris. That’s why I’m nota Wilmot anymore,” he replies, fingerspelling all the names. Then, he loops his thumb underneath his necklace, holding it up.
I blink, gaping at him, confused.
