Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
Beckett Harrington
In the weeks that followed our date, we settled into a comfortable rhythm as we remained in our bubble—staying in, making videos, and continuing our daily activities.
Nothing had changed, except our feelings had grown and become clearer.
Thanksgiving loomed on the horizon, yet none of us had broached the subject of what our new relationship meant for family gatherings and traditions.
Hell, I wasn’t even sure what my plans were, and break was a week and a half away.
Our families remained in the dark about the full nature of our relationship. Asher’s situation made coming out impossible. My father sat behind bars, unaware. And though Theo planned to tell his parents about dating both of us, he wanted to do it face-to-face rather than over the phone.
Unlike our households, Theo’s family had always shown genuine warmth and acceptance. The fact that they already knew us as his friends gave him some comfort.
I’d spent enough holidays with them over the years to know they’d treated me more like a son than my biological parents ever had.
We were sitting at the kitchen island, eating breakfast, when Asher brought it up, putting an end to our silent agreement to not talk about it and remain in our fantasy world where no outside source could break us apart.
“Where do you plan to spend your holiday break?” Asher asked, eyes shifting to me.
I had told him about the fight with my mom, making it apparent that I wasn’t heading home anytime soon.
Since we didn’t live in student housing, we could stay in our apartment if we wanted. We didn’t have to leave, but I believed Theo would go to his family, and the thought pained me. I wanted us to celebrate, but I didn’t bring it up myself, fearing rejection.
“I thought we could spend it together,” Theo interjected. “I know I always go to my family, but I’ll see them next month.” He shrugged. “They’re at the summer house right now.” Of course, they escaped the city whenever the weather started to dip.
My parents used to escape the cold too, but those days were over. With Father behind bars and Mom’s bank accounts frozen by federal investigators, she was likely stuck in our empty mansion, unable to even cross state lines without permission.
My phone vibrated against the counter, interrupting my thoughts. An unfamiliar number flashed on the screen, followed by three words that made my stomach drop—Federal Detention Center.
“Excuse me for a second,” I muttered, already pushing back from the table.
Not wanting to raise questions I couldn’t answer yet, I slipped away to the balcony, the morning chill hitting my bare legs beneath my boxers and thin white shirt.
After sliding the glass door shut, I glanced back through it to make sure Theo and Asher had stayed put before answering the call with trembling fingers.
“Yes,” I answered quickly when the machine asked me if I wanted to accept a call from my father.
I didn’t, but I was curious what he had to say to me.
He had been in prison for months but hadn’t decided to call me until today.
I hadn’t even spoken to my mom since the day she slapped me, and she hadn’t bothered to call and apologize or beg for forgiveness.
I knew where I stood with my parents.
I pushed back the urge to panic as his voice answered. “Hello?” he asked, almost sounding fragile.
“You finally decided you want to talk to me?” I questioned, hoping the bitter feelings I felt were relayed in my tone.
“It wasn’t like you had called me,” he huffed. “I called to tell you that you need to visit me over your break. I need to talk to you in person, and it’s important,” he commanded, his voice hardening into the sound that used to make me shrink.
Except I didn’t want to let him assert authority over me anymore. He didn’t run my life. “No,” I answered. “I have plans.”
“Let me guess, with your two roommates?” he asked.
My heart sank.
My brothers wouldn’t have given him that information.
Mom was too wrapped up in her own shit to remember what I said.
“I didn’t plan to leave campus,” I answered, not giving him anything to work with.
I didn’t need him to know anything about me. Theo and Asher were something private. Something for me. Something Father couldn’t ruin.
“Well, you’re going to, son. I have some information you’re going to want to hear. It’s better that we talk in person,” he urged. “If you don’t show up, I can’t help you, and when everything falls apart around you, you’ll be wishing you had come.”
His voice carried a hint of sincerity beneath the familiar menace—that precise tone that used to make my spine straighten and my hands go clammy. The voice that brought back my fear of failing to meet his expectations, which caused me to do things I never wanted to do.
“Fine. I’ll be there. But if you start to pull some bullshit, I’m leaving. And we’re not going to talk about my roommates,” I responded bitterly, my lips in a thin, tight line.
I could hear Father’s smirk through the phone. “We’ll see about that.”
The line went dead before I could respond—a typical power move.
My stomach knotted as I slipped the phone into my back pocket. What did he know about Theo and Asher? The way he’d mentioned my roommates carried a weight that left me cold.
“Well,” I greeted Theo and Asher as they looked at me with concerned looks.
It was clear they had been talking about me—speculating who I was talking to.
“I have to visit my dad in prison over the break. He said it’s urgent; gave me no choice.
I can head up there Monday and be back for Thanksgiving on Thursday,” I suggested.
“I’ll drive,” Theo offered immediately. “I know it’s going to be tough on you. You should be able to relax and think on the way.”
The Federal Detention Center was roughly thirty minutes away, closer to the Tacoma area. It would be nice to be a passenger and have Theo there with me for moral support.
“That’d be nice. Asher, you’re more than welcome to come,” I offered.
If I were being honest, I’d tell him I needed his support as much as I needed Theo’s. I’d tell him how I wanted him there with me. Instead, I chickened out and chose a weak way of asking him.
“I have something to do that day. Thanks for inviting me, though. I’ll be back later that day though,” he said nervously, his eye focus shifting throughout the room.
I wanted to trust him, but he still acted rather sketchy sometimes, and I could tell he was hiding something but couldn’t figure out what it could be. Hadn’t a clue what he’d hide from us.
“Good. We’re going to need you if we want any semblance of a good Thanksgiving meal,” Theo joked, changing the subject as he often did.
I couldn’t tell if he was in on whatever secret Asher was hiding, but I trusted that if he was hiding something for Asher, he’d tell me. He wouldn’t be able to. Theo was a gossip; his mouth never remained closed.
“I thought I could order catering for Thanksgiving,” Theo suggested, shrugging.
Asher glared at him. “Absolutely not,” he said low, his voice almost a growl. “Thanksgiving is special to me. I’ll be cooking for both of you.”
“We can help,” I said, volunteering us.
In the world of my upbringing, holiday “traditions” meant watching staff prepare elaborate meals while we lounged with glasses of wine.
The air would fill with the hollow laughter of aunts and uncles competing over vacation homes and boarding schools, each conversation a carefully choreographed performance of success that nobody actually believed.
Asher visibly cringed. “It’s okay. I want to treat you both,” he lied.
Our culinary education under Asher had never ventured into Thanksgiving territory.
We’d mastered the art of flipping grilled cheese without burning it, could boil pasta without turning it to mush, and had become experts at following the microwave instructions on frozen meal boxes—hardly the skill set needed for roasting a giant bird.
Theo and I planned to take a class on cooking Italian food after the break. We were both ecstatic. We hadn’t told Asher because we wanted to surprise him with the meal, though he’d likely refuse to eat it if we made it.
We could try.
“Fine,” Theo let out a dramatic sigh, folding his arms across his chest. “But I’m supplying the wine.”
Asher chuckled. “I won’t reject that. I’m sure Beckett can make himself useful, too. Maybe set up the table or something.” He winked at me. “You okay with helping out, Princess? I know you’re used to being catered to.” He gave me a teasing smile.
I walked toward Asher while shaking my head playfully. “Of course. We’re all a unit here. I want to help. Our first holiday together, and it’s all ours.” I smiled at him, rising to my toes—not that I’d ever acknowledge the extra height he had on me—and pressed my lips against his.
The kiss that felt weirdly domestic. We had never kissed just because. A cute, quick, passing kiss to speak my heart when words failed me.
I’m grateful for this holiday with you.
“The first of many,” Theo said, beaming.