Page 90 of Incandescent


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I furiously swiped at my eyes, my heart feeling achy and full.

Grant stood and got me a tissue. “You’ve always been more of a softy than Mom.”

“Yeah…yeah, I have.”

Ruby had come over to sniff at our feet, obviously sensing our emotions. We rubbed her fur and rained kisses on her head for a couple of minutes, giving her attention and us a reprieve from our heavy conversation.

“The stuff you said about Marc…” Grant’s voice was hesitant. “Do you have feelings for him?”

“Even if I did, I was too afraid to upend your life. You’re just getting settled again.”

Grant stared at me. “You should know by now that things don’t always work on your timeline.”

I shook my head. “Now who sounds like the adult?”

He laughed.

“Anyway, it’s not like I know for sure how he feels.”

“Seriously?” He rolled his eyes. “I think it’s obvious how he feels.”

“Okay, smart-ass.” I smirked, then grew serious. “Bottom line…I wouldn’t do anything that made you feel uncomfortable.”

“I love Marc. He’s practically family, no matter what Grandpa says.”

“He is, isn’t he?” I mused. “We’ll see. In the meantime, we’ve got dishes piling up. Help me tackle them.”

Grant followed me to the kitchen, where we rolled up our sleeves and got to work cleaning our mess from dinner. It felt good to be doing something physical to help balance out the emotional turmoil in my head.

When Grant’s phone buzzed with a text, he threw the towel over his shoulder and twisted toward the kitchen island to read the message. I watched as a beautiful grin stretched his lips.

“Uh-huh,” I said with a wink. “Let me guess…Jeremy?”

He stared at me for a long moment. “You figured it out, didn’t you?”

“Maybe?” I said, and relief washed over his face. “Sounds like you should take your own advice.”

“Maybe I already have,” he quipped.

“Then I approve.” I lifted my hand to high-five him. “Will his parents?”

“Yup.”

“Good.” I breathed out. “Still have to keep your bedroom door open.”

He rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Afterward, Grant went up to his room, no doubt to get on the phone with his…what? Boyfriend? Christ, what a night. I sat in front of the television, barely registering what was on the screen.

When a message came through from Marcus, my fingers trembled on the screen. It was a photo of a vintage-style frame he’d found to display Grant’s gift.

That looks amazing. And perfect timing because we had a good conversation tonight.

Did it involve someone named Jeremy?

Yeah, among other things, and it felt fucking great.

I’m really glad. I know how much that was weighing on you.

Thank you.

I considered texting more, but there were too many things cycling through my head, and I needed to get it all in order first.

I cut the lights, then headed upstairs to bed, deciding to sleep on it.

Passing Grant’s room, I saw that he and Ruby were cuddled up together in his bed.

“Dad?” he said, lifting an earbud away from his head.

“Yeah?” I leaned against his door, suddenly feeling exhausted.

“Why was six afraid of seven?”

A grin pulled at my lips. It was one of my first jokes from his childhood, so I played along. “Why?”

“Because seven eight nine.”

We smiled at each other across the space that seemed way less vast than just a few hours before.

28

Marcus

I pulled into a parking space, having nearly missed group this week because the customer I’d been waiting on to pick up his chest of drawers was running late.

Though I regularly caught flak for getting too wrapped up in work, this session felt important, and not only because of the man I so desperately wanted to see and spend time with.

We’d only texted brief messages the past couple of days, but I couldn’t fault him for that. I could only imagine how much support he needed to offer Grant after his revelation about Jeremy. To be honest, I was feeling a bit lost about how to proceed with him and our friendship in light of that news, especially if he was going to remain committed to his plan with his son. One coming out story at a time, I supposed.

There was also something else there, in between the lines in his texts, something I was missing, and I was bracing myself for even more disappointment.

But maybe this was how it would go between us—only checking in occasionally and getting together on rare occasions. That was how we’d begun this friendship, after all, and so maybe it was a fitting ending as well.

As soon as I made it to the seat across from Delaney, I hated that my pulse ticked up at the hint of relief in his expression. Having this direct view of him was torture, though, because it only brought back the memories of having him under me, watching that bliss on his face when he finally let go of his tightly wound expectations. Bringing him pleasure was one of my most favorite moments. Holding him all night too.

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