Chapter 18 Seth
SETH
The flight home was delayed.
I sat in the terminal for three hours, watching families reunite and separate, couples kiss goodbye, and business travelers stare at laptops with dead eyes. My phone stayed silent. Tanner hadn’t texted since yesterday. I’d started and deleted five messages, never finding the right words.
What I wanted to say: I’m sorry. For not being brave enough. For making you feel like you’re someone I hide instead of someone I’m proud of.
What I couldn’t say: I’m terrified that if I lose them, I’ll have nothing left. Even though having them means having nothing real.
When they finally called boarding, I was one of the first in line. Found my seat, shoved my bag in the overhead, and turned my phone to Airplane Mode before the urge to text Tanner became unbearable.
Somewhere over Georgia, I admitted the truth to myself: I’d failed. Failed to be honest, failed to stand up for what I wanted, failed to prove I was anything more than the disappointment my father already thought I was.
And the worst part was knowing that Tanner deserved better. Deserved someone who could choose him without hesitation, who wouldn’t spend four days performing straight for parents who’d never approve anyway.
I thought about the messages he’d sent. I told her about you. Four words that represented more courage than I’d managed in twenty-two years.
By the time we landed, I’d made a decision.
I’d tell him everything. The conversation with my father, my mother’s careful avoidance, my sister’s perfect life held up as the standard I’d never meet. I’d tell him I was sorry for not being braver, for making him feel like a secret instead of the best thing that had happened to me in years.
And if he decided it wasn’t enough, if he needed someone who could stand up to their family the way he had—well. I’d understand that too.
The terminal was crowded, everyone rushing toward baggage claim or rideshares or people waiting to pick them up. I pushed through the crowd, phone already out, pulling up Tanner’s contact.
Before I could type, a message appeared.
Tanner
When you get home, can we talk? Really talk?
My chest tightened. I typed back immediately.
Yeah. I need to talk to you too.
Good. See you soon.
The drive to our apartment took forty minutes. Every red light felt like a personal attack, every slow driver an obstacle between me and the conversation I needed to have.
By the time I pulled into our parking lot, my hands were shaking.
The apartment was dark when I let myself in. For a moment, I thought Tanner wasn’t back yet. Then I saw him, sitting on the couch in the dim light from the window, waiting.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
We stared at each other across the living room, neither of us quite ready to close the distance. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was heavy with everything we’d both been carrying for four days, all the conversations we’d had with people who weren’t each other, all the ways we’d missed this.
“How was your trip?” I asked, even though it was a stupid question. Even though I could see the answer written in the shadows under his eyes, the tension in his shoulders.
“Hard. Necessary.” He stood, and I could see the exhaustion etched into every line of his face—but something else too. Something that looked almost like peace. “Yours?”
“A disaster.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was my own fault.” I dropped my bag by the door, but I couldn’t look away from him. Four days had felt like four months. “Tanner, I need to tell you—”
He crossed to me, and suddenly we were close enough to touch. Close enough that I could smell his shampoo, see the slight redness around his eyes that told me he’d been crying at some point. Maybe more than once. “Me first.”
I waited. My heart was hammering so hard I was sure he could hear it.
“My mom said love is always a risk. That the question is whether it’s worth taking.
” He reached for my hand and laced our fingers together.
His palm was warm, slightly damp—nervous, just like me.
“And I realized I’ve been so focused on all the ways this could go wrong that I forgot to appreciate all the ways it’s already going right. ”
“Tanner—”
“Let me finish.” His grip tightened, anchoring us both.
“I’ve been scared. Of losing you to football, of watching you get hurt, of you becoming my dad sitting in a hospital waiting for bad news that never stops coming.
” His voice cracked, just slightly, and I squeezed his hand harder.
“But being scared isn’t enough reason to push you away.
Not when you’re the best thing in my life. ”
Something in my chest cracked open—all the tension I’d been carrying since the moment I’d stepped off that first plane, all the armor I’d built up to survive four days in that house.
It shattered, and underneath was just this: how much I needed him.
How much I’d missed being seen by someone who actually knew me.
“You’re the best thing in mine too.” My voice came out rough, scraped raw by everything I’d been swallowing for days. “The only thing that made it bearable was knowing I was coming back to you.”
His eyes went glassy. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I brought our joined hands up, pressed my lips to his knuckles. “I kept rereading your texts. The ones about your mom. It made me feel like maybe everything would be okay. Like if you could be that brave, maybe I could figure out how to be brave too.”
“You are brave.” He said it like it was simple. Like it was true.
“I’m not. But I want to be. For you.”
“Then we need to trust that. Trust each other.” He stepped closer, until there was no space left between us, until I could feel his breath on my lips. “I’m done letting fear make my decisions. I want to choose you. Every day. Even when it’s hard.”
I pulled him into a kiss—desperate, messy, saying everything I couldn’t find words for.
He kissed back with the same urgency, his hands fisting in my shirt, pulling me closer like he was afraid I’d disappear.
I wrapped my arms around him and held on, feeling the slight tremor in his body, the way he melted into me like he’d been waiting four days just to exhale.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, I pressed my forehead to his. We stayed like that for a long moment, just breathing together, letting the world shrink down to the space between us.
“I didn’t tell them,” I said quietly. “My family. About us. I had the chance, and I didn’t take it.”
“It’s okay.” No judgment in his voice. Just understanding.
“My mom basically handed me an opening. And I just…froze.” The shame of it burned in my throat. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He pulled back enough to look at me, his eyes soft in the dim light. “I know what it’s like to be scared of losing people. Even people who hurt you. Even people who don’t deserve the space they take up in your heart.”
I thought about my mother’s hands in the dish towel. My father’s cold dismissal. The way I’d spent twenty-two years trying to earn approval that was never going to come.
“Just promise me something.” Tanner cupped my face in his hands, thumbs brushing my cheekbones. “After the season. No more hiding. No more pretending. We tell people. Together.”
“I promise.” The words felt like a vow. Like the most important thing I’d ever said.
“Good.” He kissed me again, softer this time, lingering. “Now take me to bed,” he murmured against my lips. “I’ve spent four days missing you, and I’m done waiting.”
I didn’t need to be told twice.
I walked him backward toward the bedroom, my mouth never leaving his, hands already tugging at the hem of his shirt. We stumbled through the doorway, and I pulled the fabric over his head, tossing it somewhere behind me. His skin was warm under my palms, familiar in a way that made my chest ache.
“Missed you,” I said against his throat, pressing kisses down the column of his neck. “Missed this.”
“Show me.” His voice was rough, breathless. His fingers worked at my buttons, clumsy with urgency, until he gave up and just yanked. I heard something tear and didn’t care.
We fell onto the bed together, a tangle of limbs and half-removed clothes. I pinned Tanner beneath me, taking a moment just to look—the flush spreading down his chest, his lips swollen from kissing, his eyes dark with want.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I told him.
He pulled me down, kissing me hard, his hips rolling up against mine. I could feel him through his jeans, hard and straining, and I ground down to meet him. The friction dragged a moan from both of us.
“Too many clothes,” he gasped.
I agreed. I sat back long enough to strip off what remained of my shirt, then went for his belt. Tanner lifted his hips to help me drag his jeans and boxers down, and then he was bare beneath me, cock flushed and leaking against his stomach.
I wrapped my hand around him, stroking slowly, watching his face. His head fell back, lips parting on a soft sound that went straight to my own cock.
“Seth—” My name came out broken. “Please.”
“I’ve got you.” I leaned down to kiss his hip, his inner thigh, everywhere but where he wanted me. He squirmed, fingers threading into my hair.
“Stop teasing.”
I smiled against his skin, then finally took him into my mouth.
The sound he made was worth four days of being apart—desperate, relieved, like he’d been holding his breath and could finally let go.
I worked him slowly, savoring it, relearning the weight of him on my tongue, the way his thighs tensed when I took him deeper.
“Fuck, your mouth—” His hips stuttered, fighting the urge to thrust. I held him down with one hand splayed across his stomach, the other reaching lower to cup his balls, rolling them gently. “I’m gonna— Seth, stop, I don’t want to come yet.”