Chapter 21
Brad
“So explain to me again how this works. Is it going to hurt?”
Joey’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t appear bothered by my many questions. No, he’s utterly calm and serene as he sits beside me in the big metal death trap we’re about to go up in.
“It won’t hurt,” he promises.
“Unless we crash.”
Someone in front of us gasps, and I cringe. Yeah , maybe should’ve kept my voice down.
Joey squeezes my hand. “If we crash, you probably won’t feel a thing.”
I stare at him blankly. “That does not , in fact, reassure me. What the hell, dude?”
He huffs a small laugh, pulling my hand onto his lap and looking at me so fondly my heart tries to jump from its cage. “Once everyone is on board, they’ll close the plane doors and give us a speech about safety. We’ll buckle our seat belts, and the pilot will drive us out onto the tarmac, just like a car.”
“A really big car,” I mumble.
“Just like a really big car,” Joey says, not missing a beat. “Then we’ll probably have to wait a little while before it’s clear for us to take off. Once we go, it’ll feel fast. You’ll be pressed back against your seat, and then you’ll feel a small swoop in your stomach when we leave the ground.”
“Joy.”
“It’s not so bad,” Joey assures me. “Your ears will eventually pop and you might feel some pressure throughout the ride, but it won’t hurt.”
“And landing?” I ask.
“The same thing in reverse. We’ll descend, your ears will clear, you’ll see the ground coming closer, and then the wheels will touch down and the plane will slow.”
“You make it sound simple. I know it’s not simple.”
He shrugs. “It is for a pilot. They’re trained for this.”
I puff out a breath. “Who looked up at the sky one day and thought, ‘We should fly like birds! That sounds like a great idea. Not dangerous in the least to be so far above the ground.’ I don’t have wings, Joey. I was not made for flight.”
He gives me an odd look. “But aren’t you Bee?”
“I… Fuck .”
Joey laughs, and I groan.
“It’ll be fine,” he says, twisting my hand in his, the soothing motions of his fingers intended to lull me into a false sense of security, I’m sure. “How about this? Once we land, I’ll ensure the trip was well worth your while.”
I eye Joey’s little smirk, my pulse hopping. “Yeah?” Glancing quickly around, I lean closer and ask, “We talking handies?”
He snorts lightly. “Or…”
Or…?
“Or what?” I demand when Joey doesn’t say anything else. His eyebrows do a little dance, gaze dropping to my lips, and I suck in a breath. “Blowies?”
His laugh this time is louder, but he only shrugs, as if to say maybe .
“Joey,” I hiss. “If your lips are on the table, that’s going to be a firm yes. Fuck . I’m getting a boner.”
“At least you’re not scared anymore,” he says.
“Oh, I’m still terrified. Not of the blowjob,” I hasten to add. “Just that I might die before I have the chance to experience what your tonsils can do.”
A beep overhead cuts off our conversation, and I reflexively squeeze Joey’s hand.
“ Shit ,” I chirp.
He makes a soothing sound as a voice comes over the intercom. I pay attention to every word, clocking where the closest emergency exit is, visually planning who I’ll have to step over to get there. At least there are no children in the way, so I won’t have to feel guilty.
“I’d bring you with me,” I tell Joey, even though he’s not privy to my internal thoughts. “We could share a flotation device.”
His smile is warm.
When the plane starts moving, I realize I’m crushing Joey’s hand. I ease up on the pressure, but he doesn’t seem to care one way or another. I’m sitting in the window seat, so I have a clear shot of the ground as it passes. We turn onto what looks like a runway… And then we take off.
“You said there’d be a wait,” I squeak, squeezing Joey’s hand harder.
“Guess we were ready to go,” he says.
My reply is something akin to “ ahhh ,” and I close my eyes, not wanting to see us leaving the safety of the tarmac. There’s a small whoosh in my stomach, a distinct loss of vibration, and then Joey’s free hand is tugging my head around. He kisses my forehead, leaving his lips there, and I breathe .
“Okay?” he asks after a moment.
It feels like we’re still going up. “Uh-huh.”
“You’re doing good.”
“I’m ridiculous,” I counter. “I’m a grown man who should not be afraid of flying.”
“Hey,” he says softly. “It’s your first time. Of course it’s going to be a bit scary.”
“You sound like the girlfriend I lost my virginity to.”
There’s a pause. “Do I want to know?”
“Probably not,” I admit. “There was a lot of emotional crying. On my end, not hers.”
He hums. “Look.”
Slowly, I open my eyes. The first thing I see is Joey’s face an inch in front of mine. There’s a small smile curving his lips, and oh . So pretty.
I give his cheek a pat.
He huffs a small laugh before nodding toward the window. “Over there.”
“Huh?” I say, turning my head. “Are those…”
“Clouds,” Joey fills in for me.
I make a small noise.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I’m just gonna rest for a bit,” I mumble, closing my eyes and sinking down onto Joey’s lap, my legs squished awkwardly against the side of the plane. “Let me know once we’ve landed?”
In answer, Joey threads his fingers through my hair, stroking gently.
At least if we fall out of the sky, we’ll do it together.
“Oh my God ,” I whisper, face pressed to the window of the car. “This is your childhood home?”
“Pretty great, right?”
“Joey. It’s on the water. I know you’re an amphibian, but you didn’t tell me you grew up literal footsteps from the shore. Is that a gazebo?”
“A small one,” he says, putting the car in park.
“Uh, a small gazebo is still a gazebo, dude. What’s that?” I ask, pointing to what looks like a huge shed with windows.
“Guest house,” Joey says, opening his door. He climbs out but stops, leaning down far enough for me to see him through the doorframe. “Which means we don’t have to be quiet.”
Joey winks— winks —before heading toward the back of the car to retrieve our bags.
Suddenly, I’m thinking testing out the structural integrity of the guest bed sounds like a stellar plan. But then I see a woman stepping out the front door of the house. At first glance, Joey’s mom looks absolutely nothing like him. Strawberry blonde hair, a petite frame, light blue eyes. But then she smiles, big and welcoming, and I see it.
I’m out the door in no time, and Mama Delgado’s gaze swings my way.
“Mama D!” I call.
“You must be Brad,” she says.
I stop just before reaching her. “Hugging okay?”
She waves me forward. “Get in here.”
With a grin, I curl my arms gently around the woman who raised the most perfect man. She smells faintly floral, reminding me of the lemon trees in the regional office when they’re in full bloom.
“You were right,” she says, giving me a squeeze before letting go. “You give great hugs. It’s so nice to meet you, darling. How was your flight?”
“Horrible,” I say happily.
She looks momentarily taken aback, but then Joey is setting down our bags and stepping close.
“Mom,” he says, tugging her in, looking like a giant compared to her.
Mama Delgado rubs Joey’s back, the motion so casually familiar it makes my throat feel tight.
“My boy,” she says gently, hands on his shoulders as she leans back. “Look at you. As handsome as I remember.”
“It’s only been a few months,” he points out.
“ Psht . A lot can happen in such a short period of time,” she says, canting her head in my direction and raising an eyebrow.
Joey quickly cuts in. “Can we help with dinner?”
“It’s all ready,” Mama Delgado says, turning and giving us a wave. “Come, come. Set your bags inside for now. You can get settled after we eat. Brad, do you like seafood?”
“ Do I,” I say, loping after her.
Joey chuckles from somewhere behind me.
The inside of the house is just as inviting as the outside. It’s washed in pale blues and seafoam green, oatmeal-colored accents keeping the decor light. Windows overlook the grassy yard out back, a small sloping hill leading down toward rocks that edge the crystalline blue water. A dock leads further out, the sun casting glittering ripples on the gentle waves that lap at shore.
“Wow,” I mutter, feeling Joey’s heat at my back as he joins me near the windows. “I guess I can see why you miss the water.”
He hums lightly. “I do, but… I don’t regret the move. And Las Vegas…it’s really grown on me.”
“Like mold?”
“Like—” He makes a grumbly sound, wrapping an arm around my waist. “Come on. Let’s go eat.”
Chuckling, I let Joey tug me toward the kitchen.
Plates are set out along the white countertop, wicker stools planted in front. I take a seat next to Joey just as his mom sets a plate of fancy-looking sub sandwiches down.
“Lobster rolls,” she tells me.
I groan happily, and Joey huffs a laugh.
As it turns out, lobster rolls are the bomb. Joey catches his mom up on the construction business and his family in Vegas as we eat, and Mama Delgado asks me questions about video game design, seeming genuinely interested. She also asks about how Joey and I met, although I’m fairly certain by Joey’s eye roll, it’s a topic they’ve covered before. Even so, I tell her about the gym, leaving out the accidental first date and the whole your son is teaching me how to buff his hardwood thing.
I do know some limits.
When Mama Delgado excuses herself to take a call from a friend wishing her an early happy birthday, Joey and I head outside. By unspoken agreement, we make our way to the dock. It’s sturdier than I expect, not moving in the least as we walk out to the end, where there’s a wider platform. A boat is stationed nearby, held in a big metal frame half out of the water. Joey takes a seat beside me on the dock, letting his bare toes reach toward the rippling waves, so I do the same.
There are a handful of watercrafts out. Speedboats, a sailboat, a couple kayaks. But it’s peaceful. Quiet where we are.
“When did you learn how to swim?” I ask.
“I don’t really remember it,” Joey says, “but my mom said I had lessons when I was one. They started early because of the risk associated with living so close to water, although the yard was fenced at that point. I just remember always knowing how to swim, as far back as my memories go.”
“Bet you were cute,” I mutter. “Little Joey Delgado in his tiny trunks splashing around in the water.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “What sorts of things did you do with your grandfather?”
“Ah,” I say, leaning back on my hands as I think about it. “Not much outside. He liked puzzles, so we’d do those sometimes. And he had these models he’d build. Architectural ones, like famous buildings. He didn’t really want me helping with that, but he’d let me watch. I don’t think he knew how to handle me, you know? This kid he wasn’t expecting so late in life. But he tried his best.”
“Did you ever know your parents?” he asks gently, the words quiet like he’s not sure he should ask them.
I don’t mind.
“I didn’t. Or well, maybe I did, but I don’t remember them. They left when I was…three, I think? Some of my earliest memories are actually of Jason. He was…” I huff a laugh, thinking about the scrawny kid I met in kindergarten. How prickly he was but just as desperate for a friend as me. “He was mine. I don’t know how to explain it other than he claimed me, and I claimed him, and that was it, you know? I think sometimes you just know someone is going to be important to you, even if you don’t know how.”
“Yeah,” Joey says quietly, his gaze intent on me when I look his way. “I know what you mean.”
I swallow roughly, not sure whether or not I should read into those words the way I want to. In the end, I settle for my own truth. “There haven’t been many people in my life who knew how to handle me. I know I’m…a lot. And maybe that’s why I fell into video games, you know? Playing them at first. And then making them. It’s a space where imagination is limitless. And perhaps there’s no truly perfect world, imagined or real, but when I think of my perfect world? Of what I want my life to be? I just want to be happy being me. What I’m trying to say is… Jason was the first person who accepted me as I am. Who made my life a happy one. Now, there’s you.”
“Bub,” Joey says, nearly a whisper.
“I know we haven’t known each other for long,” I rush on. “But you’re one of my closest friends. You’re my people now. My Joey Kangaroo. So just…you better get used to me being around, man, because I’ve already claimed you. And I’m not that easy to shake.”
Joey doesn’t say a word. Instead, he crushes me in a sidelong hug, the both of us toppling onto the dock. I laugh as he smushes me beneath his weight, not at all displeased about my predicament.
“I guess you kinda like me, huh?” I tease.
He nods against my neck, his stubble bristling me. “Quite a lot, actually.”
“Good,” I sigh. “’Cause someday soon, I’d really like to find out if I’m a caulk or be caulked sort of guy.”
A beat of silence passes. “Are you talking about—”
“Sexual intercourse,” I answer.
Joey wheezes.
“All right?” I check.
“Yeah. Yep.”
Yeah . This is a great fucking day.