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Ethan made a face. “Chris? Come on, he’s hideous.”
“I mean in the photo you found.”
“Oh, yes. He was a bit less hideous then.”
Chris gave Ethan the finger.
“How’d you find it?” Anthony asked.
“It wasn’t the first time I tried to find old photos of him, but since I knew his real name this time—I mean, his childhood name—it was easier.”
“You looked for old photos of me before?”
“Yes, and my mom and dad too. It was a family project back in the day.”
Chris dug his fingernails into his palms because he was close to sobbing, and he hated making a scene. Luckily, Ethan asked Anthony, “Do you need me to bring anything to the park?”
“I think I got it covered.”
“Okay, I’m going to get dressed. Chris, your clothes are still drying so I’m giving you some of mine.”
“No flannel!”
Now it was Ethan’s turn to give him the finger before walking to the bedroom.
“Scoot.”
Chris gave Anthony room on the couch, and Anthony placed Chris’s legs on his lap and started pressing the soles of his feet. “Foot massage is good for headaches. It’s an old family secret.”
“So, you come from a long line of people with foot fetishism.”
Anthony chuckled. “Don’t read too much into it.”
Chris wasn’t going to because the feeling was wonderful. The spots Anthony pressed were tight, and he used the right amount of pressure to untangle them.
“Things are going well between you and Ethan,” Chris said.
Anthony smiled with that dimple in the middle of his cheek. “Did he tell you that? You don’t have to say, I’m just wondering.”
Chris whispered, “He told me he’d prefer it if you dyed your hair blond and gained some weight.”
Anthony frowned. “He said that? How much weight?”
“I’m kidding, Ant. He didn’t tell me anything you don’t already know. Try not to overthink things, okay? Enjoy what’s happening.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know you are. I want this for you.”
They exchanged looks, and it felt good having Anthony look at him without resentment. Before the cabin, Chris had accepted that he may never speak with Anthony again. There had been so much bad blood between them, it was a miracle they were able to move past it.
He had an urge to stroke Anthony’s cheek, but he couldn’t do that anymore, and the feeling was bittersweet.
“Should I be jealous?” Ethan entered the room, fully dressed in his trademark flannel shirt and plain jeans.
“I’m just curing him.”
Ethan crossed his arms. “Ah, the good old foot fetish in disguise. Can’t believe you fell for it.”
