Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
RYKER
A few days later, I woke up to the tantalizing scent of bacon and coffee wafting through the house.
Sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting patterns across the empty space beside me where Harley should have been.
I rubbed my eyes and glanced at the time on my phone.
It was a little past seven. For a man who normally scorned the morning sun like a hissing vampire, Harley’s absence was more suspicious than finding a fresh vegetable in a frat boy’s fridge.
I dragged myself out of bed, got dressed, then stumbled downstairs. The sound of laughter from the kitchen drew me in, where I found Harley already dressed and helping my mom flip pancakes while wearing one of her frilly aprons.
“Morning, snookums,” he called out, flashing me an offensively cheerful smile for such an ungodly hour. “Your mom’s teaching me her secret recipe.”
Mom beamed at him as if he’d just announced he’d discovered the cure for some disease. “Harley has a natural talent in the kitchen, unlike some people I know.” She shot me a pointed look.
“Hey, I can make cereal without setting off the smoke alarm,” I retorted, sliding onto a stool at the counter.
Harley winked at me. “That’s why we make such a good team. I cook, and you do the dishes.”
“Oh, that reminds me!” Mom exclaimed, turning to the fridge. “I made your favorite breakfast casserole to take with you, and I’ve got those blueberry muffins Harley adores. And I packed some sandwiches, chips, cookies, and thermoses of coffee for the road.”
Dad walked in, placing a hand on Mom’s shoulder. “Jacinta, they’re driving three hours back to campus, not embarking on the Oregon Trail. I think they’ll survive without provisions for a months-long trek.”
“A lot can happen in three hours,” Mom replied. “What if they get stuck in traffic? Or there’s a detour? Or—”
“Or we stop at one of the dozen restaurants along the way?” I suggested, accepting the mug of coffee Dad slid my way.
Harley, ever the diplomat, stepped in. “Everything looks fantastic, Jacinta. We appreciate you looking out for us. I’d much rather enjoy your treats than fast food.”
Footsteps on the stairs announced Sawyer and Gia’s arrival. My sister took one glance at me and snorted. “I see you were aiming for the ‘electrocuted hedgehog’ look today.” She ruffled my bedhead as she passed. “Cute.”
“At least I don’t need to spend two hours transforming into a human,” I shot back.
Gia laughed. “He’s got you there, princess.”
“Traitor,” Sawyer muttered, kissing Gia’s cheek before helping herself to coffee.
Mom clapped her hands. “Breakfast is served.”
We gathered around the table, the butter, syrup, and pancake platter flying between us in the practiced chaos of a thousand family breakfasts.
Dad asked Harley about his plans for an upcoming project.
Sawyer and Gia debated the merits of their planned summer road trip.
Mom fussed over making sure everyone had plenty of food, despite having prepared enough food to feed a battalion of Vikings, with leftovers for their ocean voyage.
From the start, they had treated Harley like the bonus child they never had to pay college tuition for, but now that he was my boyfriend, he filled a space in our family constellation that I’d never noticed was empty. It made me wonder what other obvious truths I might be blind to.
I watched Harley charm my family, a feat he’d always pulled off, but now it resonated differently. For years, they’d welcomed him as my best friend, but as my boyfriend, our family felt complete in a brand-new way.
No more pretending. No more lies. Just Harley being Harley, me being me, and us being together in a way that felt so natural I couldn’t believe I’d resisted it for so long.
“What are you smiling about?” Harley asked, giving my knee a playful nudge.
“Just happy,” I replied, surprising myself with the simple truth of it.
He squeezed my hand under the table, and I didn’t even care that Sawyer noticed and made exaggerated kissy faces at us.
“Remember,” Mom said, already shifting into departure mode, though we wouldn’t be leaving for another hour, “you’ll text when you reach your apartment, right? And you’ve got the leftovers I packed in the cooler? And—”
“And we’ll be back in five weeks for summer break,” I reminded her.
She scowled. “Five weeks is a long time.”
“It’ll fly by,” Dad assured her. “Besides, you’ve got that garden club competition to prepare for. You won’t even notice they’re gone.”
“That’s ridiculous. Of course I’ll notice.”
Sawyer rolled her eyes. “Mom, you do this every time someone leaves. When Gia and I took a day trip, our goodbye lasted longer than the trip itself.”
“Fine, I’m being dramatic. But I’m allowed to miss my children and their wonderful partners.”
After breakfast, we packed the last of our things while Mom triple-checked our snack inventory. Finally, we gathered in the driveway for goodbyes.
Mom pulled Harley into a bear hug first. “You take care of my boy, but also let him take care of you, too,” she instructed, patting his cheek. “And I expect you back here for summer break. No excuses. You can stay the entire time if you want.”
“Thanks, I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Harley promised, returning her hug with equal warmth.
While Dad helped Harley load our bags, Sawyer tugged on my arm, pulling me a few steps away from the others.
I braced myself for another round of teasing, but her serious demeanor made me paranoid.
“What?” I asked, checking my pockets to make sure I had my keys, phone, and wallet. “Did I forget something?”
She shook her head. “No, I wanted to say I’m really happy for you, Ryker.”
I blinked, taken aback by her sincerity. “What, no punchline?”
“Would you prefer I say it’s like watching someone realize they’ve been pushing a ‘Pull’ door for half their life?” She chuckled at her own joke. “It’s about damn time you came to your senses.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or feel insulted. “Uh, thanks?”
Sawyer, reaching her limit for genuine emotion, punched my arm. “Don’t screw it up by overthinking everything like you usually do, okay? Sometimes good things are just good things.”
Gia joined us, wrapping an arm around Sawyer’s waist. “Are you two plotting something?”
“Always,” Sawyer replied, leaning into her.
Gia gave me a quick hug. “Drive safe. We’ll go on a double date when everyone’s back for summer. I’ve got plans for the four of us.”
“Should I be worried?” I asked.
“Probably,” she admitted with a mischievous grin.
Dad approached next, pulling me into a firm hug. “I’m proud of you, son.” He pressed something into my hand as he pulled away. I glanced down to see a folded fifty-dollar bill. “For gas.”
“Thanks, Dad.” I really was the luckiest son.
Mom made a valiant effort not to cry as she hugged me last, but I could feel her trembling. “It’s only a few weeks,” I told her.
“I know, I know. I’m being silly.”
“You’re being a mom,” I corrected her, squeezing her a little tighter.
She pulled back, cupping my face in her hands. “My sweet boy. Please be happy.” She glanced over at Harley, who was laughing at something Sawyer had said, likely at my expense. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
“I am.” The relief of the truth settled deep in my bones. “He is, too.”
After one final round of hugs and Mom pressing yet another bag of snacks into Harley’s hands, we finally got into the car. I lowered the window as I started the engine.
“We’ll text when we arrive,” I promised.
“Drive carefully!” Mom called out. “Send me updates!”
It was too easy to tease her. “Every hundred miles?”
“Every fifty would be better,” she shot back, making Dad laugh.
“Come on, Jacinta, let the boys escape while it’s still daylight,” Dad urged.
We backed out of the driveway, my family shrinking in the rearview mirror. Mom continued waving as we turned the corner, Dad’s arm draped around her shoulders, with Sawyer and Gia flanking them like bookends.
The house vanished once we hit the main road. I settled into my seat with a contented sigh. The emotional roller coaster of goodbyes was over, and three hours of open highway stretched ahead.
Harley sat beside me, gazing out the passenger window. The silence wasn’t empty. It was the comfortable quiet of two people who’d run out of bullshit and didn’t need to fill the space with noise. I turned on some music, keeping the volume low enough to provide a gentle backdrop to our trip.
After a few minutes of peace, Harley reached over and placed his hand on mine, resting on the gearshift. His touch was warm and familiar now, sending a pleasant tingle up my arm instead of the panicked jolt it might have caused only a week ago.
“Are you okay?” Harley asked.
I nodded, surprised to find I genuinely was. “Yeah. It’s weird, but I’m good.” I adjusted my grip to lace our fingers together. “When we drove here, I was a nervous wreck. I kept questioning how we were going to pull off this fake relationship without anyone figuring it out.”
He snorted. “And now we know they were onto us from the start.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me.” I shook my head, still embarrassed by how transparent we’d been. “But that’s not even the main difference. Last time, I was so caught up about what everything meant. Now…”
“Now?” Harley prompted when I trailed off.
I shrugged. “It feels right.”
“This return trip is better in every way,” he agreed. “For one thing, we’re not lying to anyone anymore, including ourselves.”
“True.”
“Plus, you’re not white-knuckling the steering wheel like you’re trying to strangle it.”
I managed a wry smile. “Also true.”
Harley’s voice took on the teasing lilt I’d come to both dread and crave. “And we’ve had significantly more orgasms this trip than on the drive here.”
“Harley!”
“What? It’s a measurable improvement.” He grinned, clearly reveling in my flustered state. “I’m lucky you didn’t insist on building a ridiculous pillow wall between us the first night.”
The fact that idea hadn’t crossed my mind spoke volumes about our relationship.
His tone turned contemplative. “We should make this a tradition.”
“What, visiting my family?”
He shook his head. “No, the road trip part. We could make it fun.”
Something in his voice raised my suspicions. “What kind of fun?” The words left my mouth before I could stop them. Harley’s eyes sparkled with mischief, warning me I’d walked right into whatever trap he set.
“Well,” he drawled, “I was thinking I could make the drive more exciting for you.”
“Do I even want to know?” I asked warily.
His hand slid from mine to rest on my thigh, fingers dipping between them while trailing upward. “I could give you a blow job while you drive.”
I jerked the wheel so hard we almost swerved into the next lane. Thankfully, no other cars were nearby, but my heart raced as I straightened out our path.
“Fucking hell, Harley!” I yelped, shooting him a wild look. “Are you trying to kill us?”
He burst into laughter, throwing his head back against the headrest. “Oh my god, your expression is priceless right now.”
“It’s not funny,” I insisted. “That’s dangerous, not to mention illegal!”
He wiped tears of mirth from his eyes. “Is there a law specifically against road head?”
“Yes! No? I don’t know,” I spluttered. “It would fall under distracted driving or public indecency or something.”
“You’re adorable when you’re all scandalized, like a 1950s suburban housewife clutching her pearls after discovering her neighbor uses store-bought pie crust,” he teased, still chuckling. “Look at you, all flushed and flustered.”
I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure. “Harley, we can’t do that. I could crash the car. Someone could see us. We’d definitely get arrested and end up on the evening news.”
“I love how you’re listing practical concerns instead of just saying no.” He snickered at my protests. “For the record, I was mostly joking.”
“What part of that was a joke? The illegal bit or the part where we die in a fiery crash?”
“Well, if a blow job is off the table,” he conceded, as if making a heroic sacrifice, “how about a hand job instead?”
Before I could respond, his hand drifted higher between my thighs. I yelped and swatted it away, the car veering toward the shoulder again.
“Damn it, Harley! I’m serious. I don’t want to have an accident and become a headline.”
He held his hands up in surrender, though his expression remained unrepentant. “Fine, fine. Safety first. Can’t blame a guy for wanting to get handsy with his boyfriend, though.”
Despite my exasperation, a warm flutter went through me at the word “boyfriend.” It still felt new and surreal to hear it.
“On the upside, at least the anticipation will make it better when we return to our apartment.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Who says anything’s happening when we get back?”
“The way you moaned my name last night says plenty,” he shot back with a smirk.
My face went hot again. “That’s—you can’t—”
“Use your words, snookums,” he teased.
“You’re the worst,” I grumbled, fighting a smile.
He stretched in his seat, looking pleased with himself. “Face it, you’re stuck with me now.”
I glanced over at him and felt something suspiciously like a kitten purring in my heart. “Yeah, I guess I am.”