Chapter 5 #2
The living room erupted in jubilation. My mother sprang from the couch, clapping her hands like a fan at a concert. Gia whistled loudly, while Sawyer beamed with the satisfaction of solving her case.
Mom practically crowed with glee. “I’ve been saying it for literally years!
Remember when Harley first came over for Thanksgiving freshman year?
The way you two exchanged looks at each other over the cranberry sauce?
I told your father that night, ‘Danson, our son is head over heels for that boy.’ But you stubbornly insisted you were straight. ”
I melted into the couch like a Popsicle in Satan’s asscrack, watching my life turn into a cosmic shitshow directed by a sadistic puppeteer with a hard-on for irony.
It was supposed to be a simple fake relationship to dodge a blind date, not a family-wide celebration of something they’d been expecting for ages.
“And then last Christmas,” Mom continued, barely pausing for breath, “when you conked out on Harley during that movie marathon? The way he was playing with your hair? We all knew there was something else going on. We were all waiting for you to confess you had mutual feelings.”
“Mom—” I tried to interject, but she was a runaway train.
“Oh, I can’t wait to tell everyone! The ladies at my garden club are going to be so ecstatic this finally happened.”
Dad cleared his throat, a mischievous glint in his eye as he glanced at Sawyer. “Well, I believe this means someone just hit the jackpot in the family betting pool.”
I whipped my head toward my father. “The what now?”
“The betting pool,” Dad repeated, as if wagering on your son’s love life was as normal as discussing the weather. “On when you two would finally get together.”
“You did not seriously take bets on my love life,” I sputtered, staring at my family in disbelief.
Dad pulled out his wallet and leaned over to hand Sawyer fifty dollars. “Junior year, second term was Sawyer’s guess. Your mother thought last Christmas would be the magic moment, and I had my money on after graduation.”
Sawyer pocketed the cash with a smug grin. “We absolutely did, little brother. And thank you for the easy win.”
“I had ‘never’ in the pool,” Gia admitted with a shrug. “I figured you were too stubborn to figure it out.”
I sat stunned, my mouth hanging open in disbelief. Harley, the traitor, was laughing beside me.
“This isn’t happening,” I muttered.
“Oh, it’s happening, snookums,” Harley whispered, his breath hot against my ear. “And they’re loving every second of it.”
“How long have you been betting on us?” I shot back, trying to salvage some dignity.
“Since about a month after you brought Harley home for the first time,” Dad replied, folding his newspaper with surgical precision. “Your mother was convinced from the get-go, but the rest of us took a little bit longer to catch on since you’ve never shown any interest in dating men.”
My instinct to deny any interest in guys died in my throat. I couldn’t very well claim that and have a boyfriend. “Ugh, I can’t believe this,” I groaned, sinking deeper into the couch as if it functioned as inter-dimensional escape pods.
“Believe it, biscuit,” Mom chimed in, settling back down beside me. “A mother always knows these things. With the way you two gaze at each other, it was only a matter of time before you realized sexuality is a spectrum, not a light switch.”
“And how do we look at each other?” I challenged, genuinely curious despite my mortification.
“Like you’re the only two people in the universe,” Gia offered with a soft smile.
“Like you’re constantly trying not to jump each other’s bones,” Sawyer added with all the tact of a honey badger performing dental work with a chainsaw.
“Like you belong together,” Mom concluded, her eyes misty with maternal pride.
When Harley smiled at me, I forgot everything was pretend. My heart did a shocking impersonation of a hamster hammered on espresso shots doing the electric slide against my rib cage.
“Well, now that the cat’s out of the bag,” Harley said, breaking our eye contact to address my family, “I hope you don’t mind if I do this.” He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss on my cheek, his lips warm against my skin.
The innocent gesture sent my cheeks into a full-on blush, but the collective “Aww” from my family made it even worse.
“Who made the first move?” Sawyer asked. “I’ve got another twenty riding on it being Harley.”
“Another bet?” I groaned.
“Of course. We’ve been invested in this romance longer than you.”
Before I could respond, Mom interjected again. “Oh, this is so much better than you dating Maylin! Not that she isn’t a peach, but Harley is perfect for you. He already knows all your annoying quirks and loves you, anyway.”
“Gee, thanks, Mom,” I muttered.
“It’s true, though,” Harley said, his hand finding mine and interlacing our fingers. The casual intimacy of the gesture sent another jolt through me. “I adore all his annoying habits.”
Sawyer snorted. “Like leaving his socks everywhere?”
“And talking during movies?” Gia added.
“And getting grumpy when he’s hungry?” Mom joined in.
“Yes to all the above,” Harley agreed with a laugh. “Plus, he’s downright adorable when he’s irritated.”
I shot him a glare. “I’m sitting right here, you know.”
“We’re aware, biscuit,” Mom said, giving my knee a supportive pat. “We’re thrilled for you both.”
Warmth spread through my chest at my family’s delighted faces, chased by a shot of guilt. It was supposed to be a “get out of a blind date free card” ruse, not an excuse for them to break out rainbow flags. I was the world’s biggest, most clueless fraud.
“So,” Dad said, breaking into my thoughts, “how long has this been going on? For the official record.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but Harley beat me to it. “About a month ago, during the cinematic masterpiece Slaughter House Party 2: Greek Week Nightmare. Ryker practically crawled into my lap during the jump scares, which was a game changer. He finally succumbed to my undeniable charm.”
My sister snickered. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Ryker’s always been a scaredy-cat with horror flicks.”
“Afterward, we went for ice cream,” Harley continued, tracing circles on the back of my hand with his thumb. “And he couldn’t take his eyes off me while I licked my cone.”
“Someone please put me out of my misery,” I muttered, mortified by the direction this fabricated tale was taking.
“It was incredibly romantic,” Harley concluded.
Mom looked ready to burst into a confetti rainbow of happiness.
“That’s so sweet! I can’t wait to see you two being all lovey-dovey.
I’ve always said horror movies were good for romance.
The adrenaline, the closeness, the desperate need for physical comfort—” A timer dinged in the kitchen, cutting her off.
“That’s my cue to start the garlic bread.
Why don’t you boys get comfy upstairs before dinner? ”
Sawyer smirked. “Is that what the kids are calling you properly christening Ryker’s childhood bed?”
“Stop!” I squeaked, my face turning a brilliant shade of crimson as the room erupted in laughter. My family dissecting our nonexistent sex life was more than I could endure.
“Don’t forget to use protection!” Gia called out as Harley stood and tugged me to my feet, leading me toward the foyer. I wanted to die. Right there. Just teleport to an alternate dimension where the conversation had never happened and I was an only child raised by emotionally unavailable wolves.
My father’s amused voice followed us. “Try to keep it down, boys. These walls aren’t soundproof.”
Fucking hell, even my own father was encouraging us to have sex in my childhood bedroom. I was going to need a lifetime of therapy after this.
Harley and I headed back to the front door. His fingers laced through mine like they belonged there, a fact that sent my internal crisis meter screaming into the red zone of a full-blown emergency.
“You’re enjoying this way too much,” I hissed under my breath as we separated to grab our luggage.
Harley’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Can you blame me? Your family is a riot. They’re so supportive of us.”
“There is no ‘us,’” I reminded him, keeping my voice low. “This is all pretend, remember?”
“Sure, snookums.” He winked at me, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Whatever you say.”
I grabbed my overnight bag before we climbed the stairs together, our shoulders brushing with each step.
The familiar creaking of the third and seventh steps brought back memories of sneaking out as a teenager and avoiding those noisy boards like a ninja on a mission.
Now, each squeak felt like an overzealous announcer heralding our grand ascent to my waiting bedroom, where my family assumed we’d be engaging in activities that would make even a scandalous romance novel blush.
More framed photos lined the upstairs hallway, chronicling Sawyer’s and my awkward phases through the years. Harley paused to examine a particularly cringe-worthy shot of thirteen-year-old me, complete with braces and a haircut that could only be described as a tragic cry for help.
“You were adorable even then,” he said with shocking sincerity.
I tugged him away from the wall of shame. “Come on, let’s get this over with before I regret more of my life choices.”
My bedroom door was closed, and I hesitated before turning the knob.
What fresh horrors had my mother unleashed upon my sanctuary in the name of redecorating?
Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door open and stepped inside, Harley close behind me.
I locked the door because my family treated boundaries as if they didn’t apply to their God-given right to meddle in every aspect of my existence.
The room was mostly as I remembered it, with my bed in the middle, desk by the window, and bookshelves crammed with textbooks and novels I’d hoarded throughout high school and my first two years of college.