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“Like you,” I added, making him chuckle. I sighed in contentment as he kept running his fingers through my hair, his nails scraping against my scalp once in a while.
“Do you mind if we stay like this for a little longer?” I asked after a while, happy to lay in his arms for as long as he’d let me.
“You love cuddling, don’t you?” he asked with a smile, tightening his arms around me in answer to my question.
I shrugged, rubbing my palm against his side as I spoke. “My family was never the touchy-feely type. I can’t even remember the last time someone hugged me. Except Mama D at the party. And you.”
I waited for the pity, for him to say that was awful. Instead, he pressed a kiss to my forehead, humming against my skin as he held me closer and said, “Yeah, mine neither. So how about we just stay here and cuddle forever?”
I smiled widely at him, a part of me surprised at what he’d said about his parents. I’d expected them to be just as bright and loving as Brady, so it took me a moment to process the fact that they weren’t like their son, that Brady’s bright and sweet nature was all him. But then again, maybe that was why Brady never talked about them unless it was in passing.
Pushing the thoughts away, I pressed my ear against his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeats surround me in its warmth.
We lay in silence for a few minutes before Brady spoke up. “Will you sing to me again? I just remembered that night I’d been sick, you sang me to sleep, didn’t you?”
I looked up to see him watching me, and a light blush colored my cheeks. I shrugged. “You asked me to.”
“So, I’m asking again. Sing to me, please? I love your voice,” Brady admitted, making me blush harder. I swallowed as I crawled up beside him so I could rest against the headrest. Pulling him closer to my side, I took a deep breath and started singing the lullaby I’d sang to him that night. It was in Spanish, and I only remembered it because my mom had sung it to me when I was a kid, and then I’d sung it for my brother after she’d died.
As I sang, my mind went back to my brother. I’d barely talked to him since I’d moved here, and I missed him desperately. A part of me knew he missed me just as much, probably more, but I didn’t know how to go back to being his brother. And I wasn’t sure he’d accept me for who I was. After all, he believed the same things my father did, didn’t he?
“You okay?” Brady asked, and I realized I’d stopped singing as I got lost in my thoughts. I blew out a breath, wishing I wouldn’t have to lose my brother but knowing it was likely I would if it came to a choice between being his brother and the person I truly was.
“I used to sing that song to my little brother when he was a kid. I got sidetracked thinking about him.”
“You miss him,” Brady stated, his voice full of understanding.
“Yeah, I do. But…I feel like missing him is still better than knowing he wouldn’t accept me like this,” I said, gesturing toward my robe-covered body.
“If I had a sibling like you—not that I even want to imagine you as my sibling—I mean, if I had a sibling who had taken care of me since I was a kid and loved me unconditionally, then there’s no way I’d let them go,” Brady said, and I hoped my brother felt the same. I wasn’t ready to tell him yet, but when I was, I hoped he’d accept me for who I was.
I pulled Brady closer, pressing my face into his hair and breathing in his scent. I never wanted to let him go and hoped he wouldn’t let me go either.
*****
I was looking forward to the support group today, but I was also kinda nervous. I’d talked to Jo a few times, and I believed we were well on our way to becoming friends, but I had no clue how the other people would be. I tapped my fingers on the wooden table as I waited for Jo to get here. They’d decided that we should go to the support group together, and so here I was—an hour before the meeting—waiting for Jo at Bean Yourself.
Jo walked in a few minutes later, wearing a purple bracelet and dressed in a soft orange dress that ended at their knees, an uneasy smile on their face. The smile turned genuine the moment they spotted me and rushed closer, taking the seat across from me.
Now that they were closer, I noticed that their hands were shaking slightly. “You okay?”
Jo closed their eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before they looked up. “Yeah…I just had a feeling someone was watching me.”
My eyes widened, and I glanced out the window as if they’d be standing there with their face stuck to the glass. “Shit. Are you okay?” I repeated the question, not sure what else I could do at the moment.
“Nah, it was probably one of my brothers,” they said with an annoyed huff, and I frowned. Why was their own brother scaring them like that?
“Why was your brother following you?”
Jo waved a hand at themself as if that explained everything, and I guess it did because I knew instantly what they meant. My immediate reaction was to question myself if my own brother would react the same way, and I shook my head as I focused on Jo.
“They didn’t take it well, I assume?”
“Yeah, that’s one way to put it. You see, they’re my stepbrothers, four of them. They’re all huge. And utter assholes. My mom married their dad when I was five, and I spent my whole life getting bullied by them. When I was outed, I was sure they’d kill me, so I ran. I don’t know what would’ve happened if Mama D hadn’t found me, but I’m glad she did.” So was I. In the short time I’d known Jo, I’d realized they were an awesome person, cheerful and bold and unafraid to be themself.
“What about you? How did your family take it?” they asked and then immediately shook their head. “That was too intrusive, wasn’t it? Ignore me.”
I gave them a smile to tell them I didn’t mind before telling them my story. “My mom died when I was five, so by the time I realized who I was, I was so scared of losing my dad and my brother that I kept it all hidden. I didn’t try to explore or even figure myself out. I just kind of shut down. I knew my dad was homophobic to the core, and he wouldn’t accept me. I loved him too much, I guess. When he died of a heart attack, though? I realized life was way too short to live in hiding. So I moved here and decided I wouldn’t hide anymore. My brother doesn’t know yet, and I haven’t built up the courage to tell him either.”
