Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Christian
Dinner is loud and messy, exactly like how I grew up. Yet somehow I’d forgotten just how overwhelming it can be.
All of us sit crowded around the table with overflowing plates. Hannah’s between Tay and Salem, swinging her legs while she talks a million miles a minute about school and her pet duck—aptly named Chicken—who has like, five duck girlfriends.
Huck and Matty are discussing NFL stats, and Xed is telling me about the online social work courses he’s been taking, just like Carlos. I try to comment where I can, but my attention keeps drifting over to Dev.
He’s seated across from me, shoulders hunched and head down, poking at his food silently. Hannah says something ridiculous, and he laughs, but it’s softer than usual, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to smile. Every so often, his eyes flick up to mine, then dart away quickly.
“So,” Matty says, leaning over to glance between Salem and me, “when did you two become a thing?”
Taylor chokes on his sip of cider as I rub my fists into my eyes. “We aren’t. It was just a joke.”
Matty doesn’t seem convinced. “Uh-huh. Funny joke.”
“It was,” I repeat firmly.
Dev’s knee starts to bounce under the table, his gaze flying to the doorway like he’s ready to run. I kick his shin hard, startling him enough that he frowns at me.
Holding his gaze, I raise my voice enough so that everyone can hear. “I’m actually kind of dating Devon.”
The entire table goes silent immediately. Even Hannah.
When I glance around, I’m met with expressions of varying emotions—shock from Matty and Tay, happiness from Xed and Huck. Salem just looks… constipated for some reason, and Devon’s face is blank.
Hannah, of course, tosses her arms in the air with a toothy grin. “Like my Daddy and Fungus!” she exclaims.
I laugh despite the shift in mood. “Yeah, sort of.”
“What does ‘sort of’ mean?” Taylor asks, jabbing my arm with his fork. “And why the fuck am I just hearing this now?”
“Language, pendejo. There are children here.” I slap him on the back of his head, massaging the spot where he poked me.
Hannah shrugs around a mouthful of food. “Fungus says fuck all the time.”
“Hannah!” Matty gapes at his daughter before sending a scowl to his husband, who just bites back a grin.
Exhaling slowly, I meet Devon’s gaze from where he’s watching me across the table. “Sort of means what it means. We’re like, together and shit. Yeah?”
“Together as in like, together together?” Salem quips. “Horizontally together?”
I toss her a glare. “Yeah. Horizontally. Sometimes vertically. However you wanna put it.”
Devon’s bottom lip twitches, the metal ring twisting when he tongues it with glittering eyes.
“Dude,” Taylor gasps, throwing his arms around my shoulders. “Holy shit, are you coming out to us right now?!”
“What the hell? No, I’m…” Wait. Well, fuck me. I guess that’s what I’m doing. “Fine, yeah. Whatever. Get off me.”
Instead of letting go, my best friend squeezes tighter. “I’m so happy for you, man, but you know you could have told me sooner that you like di—”
“Taylor,” Matty scolds before Tay can finish his sentence. Meanwhile, Salem and Hannah seem to be losing their shit.
“I didn’t know I did until…” I gesture at Devon, who looks smug as shit and still hasn’t said a word, by the way. But the heat in his eyes as he stares at me is making my stomach flip.
Huck reaches across the table and claps me on the shoulder. “Welcome to the club, man.”
“Way to steal my thunder, jackass,” Xed laughs, getting to his feet. “Matty and I have something to announce, too.”
We all watch him reach into his pocket to pull out a folded piece of paper. When he opens it up and drops it in the middle of the table, a moment of shocked silence follows before Hannah throws her arms up again. “I’m gonna be a big sister!”
“Oh my fucking god!” Salem squeals, reaching for the sonogram, but Taylor snatches it first.
“Xed’s pregnant?” he shouts, looking at the photo of an ultrasound before I yank it out of his hands.
“No,” Xed starts, smirking when his husband mutters, “not for lack of trying” under his breath. “We found a surrogate. She’s about three months along.”
Getting up from my seat, I round the table to pull him in for a tight hug. “Congratulations, motherfucker. Holy shit, I’m so proud of you!”
“Can we tone down the language, please?” Matty groans, though he looks ecstatic.
Everyone else follows suit, even Devon, offering hugs and fist-bumps to the parents-to-be while Hannah bounces in her seat.
Of course, she wants a little sister. Matty says it would be cool to have a son, and Xed’s just elated to have another baby.
As I watch everyone chatter excitedly in this moment, it really starts to hit me how… grown up all of us are. Matty and Xed are expanding their family, Salem and Logan have their relationships. Taylor’s going to marry Huck eventually. When he pulls his head out of his ass.
Then there’s me… and Devon.
I catch his gaze again across the table. A small smile pulls at his mouth, whiskey eyes regarding me warmly. He still has a mask in place, though, and I'm dying to see it drop.
Everyone continues to eat and talk, the conversation shifting into discussions of baby showers. All the while, Dev and I study each other, only participating when we’re directly asked to. There’s a question somewhere in his stare, one he’s asking, but I just can’t quite grasp what it is.
I can see it in the slow perusal he gives me, taking in my lips, my throat, my chest where my heart’s currently pounding. Then back up to my face. When my brows furrow slightly in confusion, his lids shudder, expression flattening out.
And when he leaves the table, excusing himself without anyone but me really noticing, I don’t follow. Mostly because I’m… stuck.
Uncertain of what I want in life, what I want from him, and no possible time right now to figure it out.
Eventually, the evening dissolves into guessing baby names, so I decide to call it a night.
Pushing back from the table quietly, I mutter something about being tired, which isn’t a lie.
No one stops me, too engrossed in the conversation to care.
I trudge down the cool, dim hallway, imagining how good it’ll feel to collapse face-first onto the mattress.
When I push the guest room door open, though, I stop short.
Devon’s already there, sitting on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees, head bowed. He looks up as the hinges creak, eyes widening. “Hi.”
“Hey. Thought maybe you went out for some air.”
He shrugs and drops his gaze to his loosely clasped hands. “Got tired of Matty staring at me like I was about to steal the silverware.”
My jaw tightens. “He wasn’t doing that.”
A corner of Dev’s mouth lifts, but there’s no humor in it. “Sure.”
Shutting the door a little harder than necessary, I lean against it and cross my arms over my chest. “You could’ve told me you were coming in here.”
“You didn’t ask.”
Silence settles heavily. He shifts on the mattress, and I realize with painful clarity that there’s only one bed.
“So,” I say, forcing my voice to remain neutral. “You sleeping in here then?”
“If you want me to take the couch, I will.”
“No.”
He glances up, brows pulling together. “No?”
“I mean—” Blowing out a breath, I lick my lips nervously. “No. It’s fine. We’ve shared a bed before.”
Something indiscernible flickers in his eyes. “Yeah. We have.”
The silence that follows is worse than the first, louder somehow.
I push off the door and step farther into the room. “What’s up with you? You’re acting off. This is weird.”
Devon huffs out a quiet laugh. “You really wanna open that can of worms right now?”
“Yeah. I do.”
He studies me closely, like he’s deciding what to say, before leaning back on his hands. “Dinner was fine. Your friends are good people. Your family is, too.”
“So why are you in here brooding?”
His gaze drifts to a spot behind my head. “It’s just… hard being the odd one out. Always has been.”
Something in my chest twists sharply. “You’re not an odd one out.”
“Christian.” He gives me an incredulous look. “I think we both know that I don’t belong here. Everyone else sees it too.”
Without realizing what I'm doing, I step into his space. “You don’t have to belong to them, pastelito.”
His features soften slightly. “Then where do I belong?”
That question hangs in the air dangerously.
I don’t answer right away, because the truth is sitting right there—heavy and begging to be said out loud, but I’m not sure I’m ready to own it yet.
So instead, I kick his feet apart and move between his legs, tugging him toward me. He comes willingly, pliant under my hands as I cup his jaw to angle his face. And when our lips meet in a slow caress, tongues dancing lazily, he pulls me onto his lap.
“I want you here,” I murmur, straddling his thighs. “I’m the one who invited you and that’s all that matters. Okay?”
“Christian—”
“Cállate. Let me kiss you.”
Dev laughs low, the sound vibrating his chest as he holds me close. I scrub my fingers through his hair, knowing the petting drives him wild. Maybe I can’t quite decipher this feeling in my gut whenever I think about losing him, but one thing I do know how to do is show it.
So I do.
I show it in the way I push him onto his back, ducking in to devour his throat.
When I slowly lift his shirt—my shirt—to pepper love bites over his collar bone and pecs, I make sure he knows.
I even show it when I spend a good few minutes sucking and nibbling his nipples, which is new territory for us. From the way his cock strains against his zipper, though, and the whimpers coming from his mouth, I’d say he enjoys it.
“I…” Devon shivers and yanks me up to nuzzle into my neck. “Can we fuck, hot shot? I know the timing’s not ideal, but I’ll keep it down. I just feel… I don’t…”
“Hush,” I tell him, reaching down to undo his jeans. “I know. Demasiado.”
Too much. All at once.