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“I didn’t know you were a germaphobe. And besides, his name is Thomas.”

Leo was utterly confused now. “What?”

“The hygienist.” Nate picked a piece of pepperoni off the pizza box’s lid, amusement still sparkling in his eyes. “His name is Thomas.”

Leo turned that information over in his head. Sophie wanted to set Nate up. With the hygienist. The hygienist was Thomas. Thomas was a man’s name. So Sophie wanted to set Nate up with —

The sentence stopped assembling. It just sat there, half-built, waiting for Leo to finish it, and he wouldn’t.

“I’m gay.”

Leo stared.

Nate had dropped that bomb like it was never going to detonate. And Leo found himself checking the doorway, the window, the doorway again. The glass was dark and the drive was empty and no one had heard them.

Had they?

Still, Leo couldn’t quite get the buzzing in his head to stop. You didn’t just say things like that, out loud, in a well-lit room, as if it was nothing.

The refrigerator hummed. Nate chewed. Outside, the hills went on being dark. Nobody came up the drive. Nothing happened at all, and somehow that was wrong too.

“Leo?”

“Do you have no sense?” His voice came out wrong, but he couldn’t make it right. “You can’t just say that.”

“Pretty sure I can,” Nate said. “It’s my kitchen.”

Leo’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t joke,” he said. Nate set the pizza down and gave him a careful, measuring look. Like he wasn’t sure why Leo was so upset, like he didn’t understand at all. “You can’t just announce that,” Leo insisted. “You don’t know who’s listening.”

“You. You’re the only one listening.”

“You didn’t know that.”

“Leo.” His voice was patient. Awful. “Who’s going to hear me? It’s you, me, and Marvin. Marvin’s cool with it.”

“Stop joking!”

“Okay,” Nate said, quietly. “Okay. Not joking.”

Leo realized his hands were fists. He unmade them.

“Leo,” Nate started, “are you upset that I’m gay? I get that things might have been different in your time, but I’m not going to pretend that I like women.”

“Things are different now?” Leo found himself wondering out loud. Obviously he knew the world had changed. Cars had round edges and people carried small devices that were somehow connected to strangers who⁠—

Leo had a terrible thought.

“Could the strangers in your phone hear us? Do they know? The ones who watch you. Your TV channel.” Leo pointed at the counter, where the phone sat next to the pizza box. “Was it recording just now? Was it recording out in the yard?”

“It wasn’t.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I know how phones work.”

“You didn’t know your seal was a trap for twenty years.”

Nate opened his mouth. Then he closed it again. “Fair,” he admitted. “But no. Nobody heard. And even if they had, it’s not a secret. My family knows. Anyone who asks knows. I just don’t put it in the videos because it’s got nothing to do with renovations.”