Chapter 12
Joey
I stare at the text that’s ready to send to Brad, my nerves a jumbled mess. I don’t know why I’m so tied in knots over what should be a simple invite to hang out.
Yes, you do know , my brain so helpfully replies.
I tell it to fuck off and hit send.
Me: Want to come to a BBQ at my aunt and uncle’s this afternoon?
Brad’s reply is almost immediate.
Bub: Yeah, man! I love BBQ. What should I wear?
I huff a laugh.
Me: Anything you want. Although you might want to bring your swimsuit. They have a pool.
Brad doesn’t respond right away. Not for a long while, in fact. I’m starting to get concerned when my phone finally chimes.
Bub: Okay.
Just okay ? That’s odd.
Me: Want me to pick you up or send the address?
Bub: Come get me. That way, I’ll feel fancy.
I snort.
Hold on…
Me: You’re not going to ride in back and pretend I’m your chauffeur, are you?
Bub: No?
My smile is ridiculously big as I leave my house and head toward Brad’s. His apartment is across town, but the trip passes quickly, even as my palms start to sweat. I tell my body to cut it out. This isn’t a date. Brad is my friend. Period.
My friend, who I’m bringing to meet my family.
Shit.
When I pull up to the curb, Brad is waiting for me. He hops right in my truck, settling in the front passenger seat, thankfully not the back.
“Joey-broey,” he says in greeting, smiling like always. “I’m so ready to choke on your meat, it’s not even funny.”
“What?” I cough out.
“Your family’s barbecue,” he says as if it’s obvious. “I’m starved . You caught me before I had a chance to eat lunch.”
“That’s, uh, good,” I manage, easing into traffic. “That you didn’t eat yet, I mean.”
Brad nods before mumble-singing something about meat on his tongue. It’s distracting, to say the least.
My Aunt Margot and Uncle Johnny’s place is nice, a two-story home in a suburban neighborhood with big, manicured lawns. I park on the side of the street before grabbing my bag from the back.
Brad unceremoniously thrusts his swim trunks at me. “Here. Put these in with yours. I don’t want to meet your family while I’m holding my speedo.”
“It’s hardly a speedo,” I note, even as I put it in my bag.
“Same diff,” Brad says. “Feels weird, you know? I want to make a good first impression.”
My pulse kicks, Brad’s concern over meeting my family making me feel so many things I probably shouldn’t be feeling for this man. “My family will love you, bub,” I assure him. “You don’t have to worry about that, all right?”
He sends me a grin, but there’s a relieved edge underneath it. “Duh. Of course they will. Haven’t you heard? I’m charming .”
“Christ,” I mutter, unable to stop my own grin. “You’re going to let that go to your head, aren’t you?”
“What? Nooo . Why would I do that? I’m a good boy, Joey.”
Brad bats his eyelashes at me, and I have a hard time remembering why I can’t simply…kiss him. Kiss him and never stop.
My voice is hoarse when I say, “Then be a good boy for me and get out of the truck.”
Brad blinks, his mouth falling open. “Dude. Did you just use your sex voice on me?”
“What?” I squeak.
“That was…that was not your normal voice, man.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie, zipping up my bag.
He squints at me. “You’re not getting sick again, are you?”
“Perfectly healthy.”
Brad places the back of his hand on my forehead, apparently checking my temperature. Then he squeezes my bicep a couple times, for reasons entirely unknown.
“Fine,” he relents, opening his door. “But if you get sick, I’m gonna wrestle you into bed and tie you down. And you’ll take it. Happily . I can’t have my baby roo feeling blue. Heh. That rhymed. You coming?”
Good fucking grief.
Swallowing down my “not anytime soon,” I follow Brad out of the truck. I nearly reach for his hand and have to forcibly remind myself that’s not what this is.
That Brad isn’t… mine .
Brad is all smiles as we round the house toward the backyard. It looks like most of my family is already here. I see Johnny and Margot near the grill, Johnny manning the meat as Margot sips what looks like a margarita. Iggy is punching his brother Reggie on the arm. My cousin Sonia is lying on a pool float while her husband watches over their young kids. A couple of the other kids are running around a tree, trying to spray each other with squirt guns. And that’s just the start of it.
“Whoa,” Brad breathes. “Your family is huge .”
“Okay?” I check, knowing he’s not used to that sort of thing.
He nods, his smile genuine and bright.
Margot is the first to notice us. “Joey!” she calls warmly, walking over across the grass, her heels somehow managing not to sink into the earth. She’s wearing a wrap-style dress over her swimsuit, and when she gives me a hug, she smells like coconut sunscreen. “So glad you could make it, honeybunch. Who’s this handsome fella at your side?”
Brad beams.
“This is Brad,” I tell her. “My…friend. Brad, my Aunt Margot.”
Brad doesn’t hesitate to give my aunt an enthusiastic hug that has her eyes going wide in delight. She wraps an arm around him with a smile, her drink held out to her side.
“So nice to meet you, Mrs. Delgado,” Brad says politely, the two of them separating.
“Well aren’t you sweet. But please, just call me Margot. Would you boys like drinks?”
I check in with Brad before giving my aunt a nod. “That’d be great, thanks.”
“Of course. Come, come,” she says, waving us back toward the grill. “Johnny, our Joey brought a frieeend .”
Oh boy.
My uncle gives us a grin, his eyes squinted against the sun and his grill tongs held in one hand. “That so? Handsome fella.”
“That’s what I said,” Margot responds with a laugh, slapping her husband’s shoulder.
Brad looks positively gleeful.
Oh boy.
“His name’s Brad,” my aunt adds, pouring premade margarita mix into two glasses.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Brad,” Johnny says, holding his free hand out to shake. “If you’ve got our Joey’s approval, you’ve got mine. You like chicken?”
As my uncle pulls Brad over to the grill, Margot hands me a drink.
“He’s just my friend,” I whisper.
She tweaks my cheek. “Sure, hon.”
I sigh, startling when someone careens into my back. At least I have a tight hold on my drink. “Iggy,” I say in greeting.
My cousin pats my shoulder a couple times before stepping around in front of me. He has an eyebrow raised. “You brought your gym-bro?”
“Don’t judge,” I say, voice quiet as I cut a glance Brad’s way. He’s talking excitedly with my aunt and uncle, looking utterly at home. “I just… I can’t quit him, Iggy. I don’t want to.”
His expression turns almost contemplative. “I’m not judging. I just don’t want to see you get hurt is all. He’s still…”
“Straight?” I fill in. “As far as I’m aware.”
He nods, lips pursed. “Hmm. I don’t suppose he knows you have feelings for him?”
I don’t bother telling Iggy I don’t have feelings because there’s no point. I think the only person unaware is Brad himself. “He knows I was attracted to him,” I say, which is true. Even if it doesn’t quite answer his question.
And even if that attraction never went away. Not even close.
Iggy nods, but a sudden “Not near the grill!” from Margot has our attention shifting.
One of the kids is near the edge of the hot metal grill, using the side of it as cover for the ongoing water gun fight. Margot tries to shoo him away, but he stays put, doing his best to avoid the high-pressure blasts of water coming from his brother. Before anyone has a chance to herd the kids back toward the lawn, there’s a battle cry, and Brad is leaping into the fray.
I watch in…not quite disbelief, really, but awe as Brad wields his own squirt gun he got from who-knows-where and runs after the kids. They both sprint away, trying to avoid Brad’s blasts, and he chases after them, a huge grin on his face.
I shake my head, my chest feeling warm. Dangerously warm.
“Who’s the hunky stranger threatening my children?” my cousin Alice asks, amusement lacing her tone.
“That’s Joey’s Brad,” Iggy answers.
He steps away as I try to smack him.
“Nice catch,” Alice says, sending me a wink before heading back inside.
I sigh. Again.
As Brad plays with the kids, helping keep them away from the grill, I bring out plates and utensils for our late lunch. Brad’s shirt is soaked when he finally calls it quits, but his smile is wide and his light green eyes are positively sparkling.
“Did you see that?” he asks, a little out of breath. “Sonny was ruthless, but I totally won in the end. Not that we were keeping score or anything.”
“Have a good time?” I ask, even though it’s obvious he did.
“ Dude . That was so much fun. I haven’t played with water guns in…well, forever. Hey, where’s my drink?”
As Brad heads off to retrieve his margarita, Sonny plops down at the long, bench-style table. He’s soaked from head to toe.
“Your boyfriend’s pretty cool,” he says, helping himself to a handful of chips.
My pulse trips, but I don’t have time to correct him before Uncle Johnny calls everyone to eat.
Lunch is a rowdy affair. I introduce Brad to the rest of my family. As my friend . I’m not sure anyone believes me, even though it’s— sadly —the truth. Everyone, unsurprisingly, is smitten. Plates of potato salad and corn on the cob are passed as hands get messy with barbecue sauce. Most of the kids barely eat a thing before they’re up and moving again, not wanting to waste a perfectly good day of play.
“No pool for thirty minutes,” Sonia calls to the lot of them. She shakes her head gently before facing the table again. “So, Brad, what do you do?”
“Oh,” he says, wiping his mouth with his napkin before giving my cousin a smile. “I’m a game level designer with a focus on world design for DreamWyld, a company that produces massively multiplayer online video games.” When no one says anything, he adds, “I make virtual trees?”
“He helped create Run, Run, Ricochet ,” I fill in, still impressed by that fact.
“Seriously?” my cousin Reggie asks. “Did you make that creepy skeletal forest in level ten?”
“I did!” Brad says happily. “Gave me nightmares for months.”
Most of my family chuckles, but based on Brad’s shiver, I’m pretty sure he’s serious.
I give his leg a squeeze, and his smile turns my way.
Dangerous, indeed.
Conversation shifts to construction, as it so often does in this family, and Brad gives me a nudge. “Pass the corn?”
I hand the plate over, and what transpires can only be described as one of the most erotic culinary experiences of my life. Brad rolls the corn over the butter dish, positively coating it before sucking his thumb into his mouth. He cleans the digit— thoroughly —while I squirm. Then, ever so slowly, he licks his way around one end of the corn cob, his tongue curling gently over the tip. I forget what my lungs are for. Finally, he takes a relatively normal bite, shooting me a scrunched-face smile when he sees me watching him.
“It was really wet,” he informs me.
I’m well aware .
Brad goes back to eating his corn, periodically licking it, sometimes biting. At one point, he wraps his mouth around one end, collecting a few kernels there.
And I thought the banana was bad.
I cross my leg over my knee as Brad sucks butter and salt off his fingers. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Alice shooting me a thumbs-up.
Oh, for fuck’s sake .
At least they’re supportive.
I’m grateful when our meal ends, having had to watch Brad attack his barbecue chicken with the same relish. I’m honestly not sure how much more I could’ve taken. Luckily, Brad finishes up, wiping his hands on a napkin. He gives me a nudge once done.
“Bathroom?” he asks.
I nod. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
I grab my bag on our way into the house, and then I lead Brad down the hall to the first-floor restroom.
“Here,” I say, passing his swim trunks over. “You can change now if you want.”
“Oh,” he says, sounding a little surprised by that. “I, uh… Sure. Don’t we need to wait thirty minutes, though?”
I huff a laugh. “I’m pretty sure we’ll be fine. I won’t let you drown, bub.”
He gives me a tentative smile, taking his swimsuit. “Okay. I’ll meet you out there.”
Right . I take my cue and step back, heading for the upstairs bathroom as Brad shuts the door.
I make it back outside first and help clean up a bit as I wait for Brad. He emerges after a good ten minutes, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. His swim shorts— not a speedo, thank God—are in place.
“You good?” I ask, not used to seeing him so twitchy in a way that looks almost…nervous, as opposed to due to an excess of energy.
“Sure, sure,” he says quickly, eyeing the pool. Sonia and her kids are already in it. “So we just…get in the water?”
“Unless you don’t want to?” I check.
“ Pft . No, it’s fine. Good. Yep. Just, uh, don’t toss me in, okay?”
“Of course,” I say, frowning after Brad as he heads toward the pool. He stops at the edge, sitting down and gingerly extending the toes of one foot into the water. After a second, he puts both feet in.
I ease down next to him, twisting around and dropping into the pool, knowing it’s best done fast. The cool water is a shock to my system, but considering the heat today, I welcome it. Brad has a grin on his face when I break the surface.
“Feels good,” I let him know.
He nods, but he makes no move to jump in. He does strip off his shirt, however, prompting my gaze to skitter away.
I swim for a bit while Brad sits with his feet in the pool. Sonia is floating again, and her kids are wading in the shallow end, floaties on their arms. When it’s been over ten minutes and Brad still hasn’t moved a muscle, I head his way.
“Everything okay?” I ask, settling my hands on either side of his hips.
He spreads his legs a little to give me space between his knees, a move I try not to read too much into. “Yeah,” he says. “It’s just…”
“What?” I prod gently.
He leans a little closer before saying, “I don’t know how to swim, Joey.”
I try to keep my shock from showing, but I’m not sure I manage it. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“I was embarrassed.”
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” I assure him, even as my gut twists. “Shit, bub, what if you’d fallen in?”
His lips turn up the slightest bit at the corners. “You said you wouldn’t let me drown.”
Well, that’s the absolute truth.
I take a quick breath. “Want me to teach you?”
He looks around again, and it’s not hard to guess why.
“None of them will judge,” I promise. “And they don’t even have to know. We can start in the shallows, and I’ll lead you out to the deep end, okay?”
Brad looks into my eyes for the longest time before nodding. I ease back as he hops to his feet, heading around to the other side of the pool. My pulse is thundering as I swim his way, although I’m not even sure why. It’s just swimming lessons.
But it’s Brad. Trusting me.
He’s confident enough as he walks down the steps into the pool, even as he shivers. I try not to stare too long at all that exposed skin, instead focusing on making sure he’s comfortable. I meet him where the water starts to get deeper.
“Ready?” I ask quietly. I’m pretty sure Sonia will clue in to what we’re doing, but I’ll still try my best to make sure Brad isn’t self-conscious about it. “Just hold on to my arm, and I’ll do the rest, okay?”
He nods, taking my arm and walking forward as I step backwards toward the deep end. As soon as we get to chest height in the water, Brad scrambles, all but attaching himself to me. I brace as he wraps his arms over my shoulders, his legs curling around my waist.
“Sorry,” he whispers frantically. “Sorry, sorry. I freaked.”
“It’s okay,” I assure him, rubbing his back as my heart thrashes wildly.
“Can we just…go out like this? Just…hold me? Please?”
Oh God .
“Anything you want,” I tell him. “But we don’t have to go out at all. We can stay right here in the shallow end if you’d prefer.”
He shakes his head. “No, I want to. I need to get it over with. Just…face my fear head-on, you know? And I’m safe with you. I know that. You’ll keep me safe, Joey.”
I’ve always considered myself a fairly level-headed person. I don’t act on instinct, instead considering my options and carefully choosing the best course. The most rational one.
But there’s nothing whatsoever rational about allowing myself to fall for a straight man. And yet I’m not even trying to stop it. I only tighten my arms around Brad and promise what I know to be true.
Will I keep him safe?
“Always.”