Chapter -4- #2
“My apologies.” Braylon lays a hand over Denz’s on the table. “I’d love to try something new tonight. If that’s okay?”
Denz pastes on a fake smile. He doesn’t trust himself to speak without telling Braylon how he really feels.
“I love your accent!” Leena says, seemingly on her way to forgiveness.
Braylon runs a bashful hand over his curls. Denz wonders if they’re soft. The same texture his hair would get between swim seasons, just before he buzzed it all off again. On second thought, no . That’s the last thing Denz wants to find out.
“It’s kind of automatic now, innit?” Braylon playfully nudges Denz. He doesn’t smell like coconut bodywash anymore. There’s notes of freshly peeled oranges and cardamom. Just another thing for Denz to hate. “Hard not to pick up while I lived there.”
“In London,” Kenneth deadpans.
“Correct.”
“Where you went for work.” Kenneth swirls his whiskey. “After breaking my son’s heart.”
Braylon clears his throat. “Well. Yes.”
“Did you like it there?”
“It was… different.”
“Different, good? Different, as in the biggest mistake of your life?” He doesn’t wait for Braylon to elaborate. “And the job? PR, right? Make any good connections? New relationships? Was it worth—”
“Dad,” Denz cuts in. It’s not like he didn’t expect this. But he didn’t anticipate the urge to protect Braylon from it too. As much as he wants to watch Braylon squirm, he’s bailing Denz out of a disastrous situation. He deserves a little slack.
For now.
“I’m getting reacquainted with your new boyfriend,” Kenneth tells him.
“I know, Dad, but—”
“So, Braylon,” Kenneth says, his tone casual, “what brought you back? Job transfer? New career opportunity?”
There’s a long pause. Braylon traces the condensation on his glass with a finger. “Partly. And… my dad died.”
“Oh God.” Leena’s hands fly over her mouth.
Kenneth shifts uncomfortably. His eyes say, Why didn’t you warn us?
Denz mouths, I tried to .
“It’s quite all right.” Sadness outlines Braylon’s smile. “Brain aneurysm. He thought it was a migraine. Went in his sleep.”
Leena reaches over to cup one of his hands. “I’m so deeply sorry.”
“He was an amazing man,” Kenneth adds. “Very respected. I hope you know that.”
“Thank you,” Braylon whispers, not making eye contact with Denz. “I did. Honestly, I’m fine. That’s what therapy is for.”
His rough laugh is met by a grin from Leena.
Denz bites his lip. He should say something. Do something. He’s supposed to be the supportive boyfriend, and despite all Braylon’s posturing, Denz knows he can’t be as okay as he sounds. It was his dad.
Instinct doesn’t immediately kick in, so Denz goes with the next best thing: impulse. He rubs a hand across Braylon’s spine. Hums quietly.
A phone buzzes on the table.
“Sorry,” Kenneth says, standing. “I need to take this. It’s Audrey Hudson. I’m planning her summer wedding anniversary celebration. Twenty years, can you believe it?”
More vibrations. “Oh!” Leena swipes her phone up. “It’s time for my nightly chat with Mikah! Be right back.”
When his parents are out of earshot, Denz snatches his hand away. Braylon scowls at him. “What were you doing?”
“Comforting you.”
“By humming ‘Fix You’ by Coldplay?”
Denz sighs. “It works on my nephew all the time.”
“I’m not a kindergartener—”
“First grade.”
“—and have you heard yourself sing? I’m surprised Mikah doesn’t have nightmares.”
“Shut up.”
“You’re awful.” Braylon’s face wrinkles. “I’d rather be serenaded by Katy Perry.”
Denz flips him off. He can feel himself almost smirk. “I’m trying to make this look real . For my parents, okay?”
Braylon says irritably, “Then try being less like Ted Lasso and more like—”
“Everything okay?”
Leena scoots back into the booth. Her curious head tilt forces Denz to toss an arm around Braylon’s wide shoulders. “G-great! Perfect!”
Braylon smiles tensely, not saying a word. It’s enough to ward off more questions from Leena. Soon, Kenneth rejoins the table, and the food arrives.
The waitstaff moves fast and efficiently. Plates are set. Glasses are refilled. Braylon’s steaming steak and the sharp vinegary scent from his fries drag a growl from Denz’s stomach. The food on his own plate is—
Not what he ordered.
“ Oh . Um…”
He stares at the roasted flounder and spring salad. An overwhelming whiff of onions makes his nose wrinkle.
“That’s not a burger,” Braylon points out.
Through a gritted smile, Denz says, “It’s fine.”
“It’s not,” Braylon opposes. “For one, seafood makes you nauseous. Two, you hate onions. Passionately.”
Denz tries to laugh. “That’s a strong word.”
“It’s true.”
Denz isn’t in the mood to argue. To let one more thing ruin tonight. Except… something white-hot spreads through his chest. Into his cheeks. Under his breath, he says, “You remembered? About the onions and—”
“Of course.” Braylon’s eyes flash. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Because I didn’t even know your dinner order, Denz wants to remind him. Or that your dad died. Why you came back .
“Son,” Kenneth says, interrupting his thoughts, “should I—”
“I’ve got it,” Braylon insists. He nudges Denz out of the booth, flagging down Colin. Denz gapes at him. Braylon’s all smiles and relaxed charm like he’s chatting with an old friend, explaining the mix-up to Colin.
“How sweet of him,” Leena whispers, impressed.
Kenneth sits cross-armed, stone-faced. It doesn’t stop the smile from edging across Denz’s mouth.
Well played, Braylon Adams .
“Let her decide,” Leena urges after a sip of wine.
The rest of dinner has gone without incident. Denz’s new plate arrived with an extra pile of hand-cut fries as well as a complimentary bottle of Clos du Temple. Leena’s on her second glass. Conversations drift in and out. The latest: Nic’s indecision over which college to attend in the fall.
“I don’t know why she won’t pick an Ivy,” Kenneth huffs. “She’s so smart.”
“What about an HBCU?” Leena offers. “Or somewhere closer to home. Like Spelman. Agnes Scott. Emory or—”
“UGA,” Denz and Braylon say simultaneously. Coincidentally. Denz’s eyes lower to his half-finished burger when his mom smirks.
“She’s a Carter,” Kenneth says. He gulps his whiskey. “She has a legacy to uphold. She’s better than—”
He cuts himself off. Denz doesn’t need him to finish.
UGA wasn’t Kenneth’s first choice for Denz.
Duke, UPenn, or even UCLA, where Jordan ended up.
Notable, flashier colleges for the press to rave over.
But Denz wanted somewhere he could be his true self while still remaining close enough that he wouldn’t miss anything in his family’s lives. Besides, he liked Athens.
But it wasn’t what his family wanted.
His eyes cheat over to Braylon. He’s watching Denz, cheeks flushed at being caught.
“Can’t believe she’s already off to uni,” Braylon whispers. “Wasn’t she just thirteen?”
“Yeah,” Denz exhales.
He tries to ignore the sourness at the back of his throat. Braylon’s ankle pressed against his under the table. His dad’s unreadable stare drifting between them. How he never thought he’d be here again: hoping a first impression didn’t mean the end of something he wants.
Six Years Ago
Junior Year—Fall Semester
“You can’t hear them.”
“I’m not trying to—”
At Nic’s hard glare, her mouth screwed into a you’re not fooling anyone pout, Denz shuts up. She’s barely thirteen and already as intimidating as their dad. When did that happen?
He tugs on one of her box braids. “I was listening for Mikah.”
Nic rolls her eyes. “Liar. He’s asleep in his crib. And you’re freaking out.”
“I’m not—”
“Who’s freaking out?” Leena asks, hovering over a fresh pie on the kitchen island.
“Denz,” Nic announces, dodging the hand he tries to clamp over her mouth. “He thinks Dad’s gonna murder Bray.”
“He won’t,” Kami assures while loading the last plates from dinner into the dishwasher. “At least not until after Christmas.”
Denz flips her off. He sidles up to his mom, frowning. “He won’t, right?”
“I mean…” Leena cuts four equal slices from the pie. “When we bought this house, he specifically requested a big backyard. Easier to hide the bodies.”
“Mom!”
His sisters cackle. Leena’s shoulders shake as she tries to hold in her laugh. “He’ll be fine.” She shoves a small plate in his hands. “Eat. Enjoy being home. Your dad’s harmless.”
Denz wants to refute that claim. He knows his dad’s history. Knows the trail of boys Kami’s brought home that haven’t lasted five minutes alone with Kenneth Carter. Bray’s been gone eight minutes. It’s a record Denz celebrates by forking up a giant chunk of his mom’s sweet potato pie.
He misses this. The air coated in a heavy blend of vanilla and nutmeg and melted butter.
His mom playing Whitney Houston— The Preacher’s Wife soundtrack is a holiday staple—on the Bluetooth speaker.
Nic wearing a mash of prints and stripes Auntie Eva would disapprove of, calling it “trendy.” The sleepy bags under Kami’s eyes, still adjusting to motherhood a year later, accentuated by her smile after her first bite of pie.
“Jesus, Mom, how is it so perfect every single time?”
Leena smirks. “My secret ingredient.”
“Which is,” Denz prompts.
“Nice try. I’m taking that to the grave.”
“Come on!” Denz and Kami whine. They grin at each other. Since Nic was five, the three of them have maintained a bet on who would discover the hidden ingredient in their mom’s pie first. No amount of begging, bribing, or overfilling Leena’s wineglass has worked. That doesn’t stop their efforts.
Nic beams. “I know what it is!”
Denz narrows his eyes. Growing up, he’d always been closer to Kami. But when she left for college, suddenly the eight-year age gap between him and Nic became nonexistent. She tells him almost everything. He can’t believe she kept this secret.
Nic leans her head on Leena’s shoulder. “It’s love.”
Denz and Kami groan. Leena hip-checks Nic away. “Nicola, please, ” she says. “I’m still not using your dad’s name to get BT-whatever to perform at your next birthday.”
“BTS,” Nic grumbles, defeated.
Denz tugs her under his arm, laughing. Kami replaces their sister at Leena’s side. Each of them chewing and giggling and talking. No expectations. No questions from the aunties or uncles about what’s next now that he’s only a year and a half away from graduating.
Honestly, he hasn’t given it much thought. He can’t imagine Bray won’t somehow be a part of that bigger picture, whatever it might look like.
It’s been at least fifteen minutes, he thinks. Should he…
“Bray’s fine,” Kami tells him.
Denz startles. “I know.”
“So why do you look like Nic when she thinks she’s found where Mom hid the Christmas gifts?”
“Hey!” Nic protests.
Denz scoffs. “I’m chill . Stress-free. No worries over here.”
“I call bullsh—”
“Nicola Carter,” Leena warns.
Nic shovels pie into her mouth. Kami guffaws. Leena’s distracted enough by Whitney Houston’s vocal acrobatics on “Joy to the World” that she almost doesn’t notice Denz casually edging toward the entryway.
“Denzel, don’t you dare—”
“Did you hear that?” He leans on his tiptoes, pretending to listen. “I’m just gonna check on my nephew. See if he needs anything.”
He’s out before his mom or sisters say another word.
Away from the kitchen, the house is quieter.
It still hums softly like when he was a teen, holding every conversation and laugh and occasional cry in its bones, but Denz can’t hear anything else.
Until he’s down the hall. Feet away from the room converted into a nursery for Mikah. Across from Kenneth’s home office.
The light’s on, door open. Gentle voices escape. A sharp squeal. Then, overlapping laughter. Denz raises an eyebrow, creeping closer, heart hammering when he almost runs into his dad exiting.
“Oh,” Kenneth says. “There you are.”
“I wasn’t doing anything!” Denz blurts.
Kenneth smirks like he did whenever he caught Denz FaceTiming Jamie instead of sleeping as teens. “If you say so. Mikah woke up. Think he needs to be changed. Or he smelled your mom’s amazing pie.”
He makes room for Denz in the office doorway. Denz’s mouth opens in surprise. Warmth spills through him as he watches.
Bray sways in a circle. Mikah’s tucked to his chest. His tiny, tipped-back head is supported by Bray’s large hand. They stare at each other, smiling.
“He’s kind of surprising.” Kenneth nods toward Bray, voice low. “Smart. Caring. He thinks he’s funny but—”
“He’s really not,” Denz whispers back, way too fond.
Kenneth lets out a muted laugh. “I’ve met worse. Thanks to Kami. God help me when Nic starts dating.”
Denz doesn’t want to take his eyes away from Bray and Mikah turning in another circle. Eventually, he does. To his dad, he says, “Does that mean you approve?”
“He’s… different.”
It’s not a yes or no. But Denz catches it. The little sparkle in his dad’s eyes when he tugs off his glasses. It’s a minor win. Good enough for him.
Kenneth claps a hand on his shoulder. “There’s a slice of pie calling my name. Want me to send your sister back?”
“No,” Denz says. “I’ve got it.”
“Suit yourself. I’m pretty sure it’s number two.”
Kenneth’s amused chuckle echoes as he disappears down the hall.
Denz waits a beat longer. His gaze follows Bray’s shuffling, the way Mikah’s breathing synchronizes, their smiles never breaking. He absorbs how tonight’s a night of so many firsts he never imagined hours ago in The Varsity’s parking lot.
How, no matter what, this is where he wants to be. At home. With his family.
With Bray.