Chapter 16 Angie #2
“Geez.”
“Yeah. Do you know how confused I was to hear and feel the garage opening?” I ask rhetorically.
“Are you happy they’re back?” Brandon asks after a few seconds of weighted silence.
“Yes? I mean, I don’t know. I kind of hoped they forgot about me and I could leave without seeing them. But on the other hand—” I begin and start tracing Brandon’s lines on the palm of his hand. “That’s bad, isn’t it? Wishing your parents forgot about you?”
“I think it’s good that you’re voicing it.”
My exhale is coated in exhaustion. “But then my mom came into my room and we talked. She apologized for more than just them being gone and checked out.”
“Isn’t that what you always wanted?” he asks.
I lift one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “You don’t think it’s too little, too late, do you?”
He surveys me like I’m a code he can’t quite figure out. That’s what I like about Brandon. He’s very analytical. He doesn’t make rash decisions. He thinks things through before making his decision. Overall, he’s very thoughtful with what and how he thinks.
“I can’t be the one to answer that for you, Ang. But maybe them being home is a sign that you can have your parents back.”
“Yeah,” I murmur.
“You know, when Emily and her family moved here, her parents were a lot like yours. It’s weird that I’m just now seeing the similarities.
However, I wasn’t around for a lot of it, but what James did tell me wasn’t good.
They missed a lot of her growing up, missed her recitals, missed her birthdays.
Hell, they even missed her high school and college graduation. ”
“What?” I ask, shocked, because I had no idea. Although she and I were never close because of the age gaps. But I had been around her enough with Emily and James dating that I’m at a loss for words because I never noticed.
“Yeah.”
“Are they on speaking terms now?”
Brandon nods and I connect the dots as to when they got their relationship back. It’s unfortunate that death has a way of bringing people back together or even tearing them apart.
“I also told my mom that I’m seeing someone and that we’re taking it slow,” I confess.
“Yeah?” He lights up when he asks. “What else did you tell her?”
“Oh, nothing much. Just that you’re making me see color for the first time in years.”
Brandon’s boyish smile sends a signal to my own smile to take over. He leans in, I lean in. Our lips are a breath away from touching when the oven beeps at the same time the doorbell sounds.
“Perfect timing,” he says, still in my space.
I can’t resist a small kiss, so I press my lips against his before pulling away.
“Will you get the door?” he asks and helps me stand.
Nodding, we go in opposite directions, and I open the door to Carter and his partner. My jaw drops.
“No way,” I deadpan.
Miles Reed. Point guard for Philly’s basketball team stands there in all his athletic glory with a bottle of sparkling cider. I may not know or pay attention to sports like I used to, but I do know who Miles is.
“I didn’t know you were a sports fan, Angie,” Carter says from next to him.
“You two are hot together.” And it’s true that they are.
Carter, with his warm russet skin and close-shaven hair, is wearing black jeans that mold to his thighs and a black shirt with a white button-down thrown over.
Miles is his opposite with his creamy skin and short brown hair, circa Nathan Scott in season three of One Tree Hill, with dark brown khakis, a white T-shirt, and a denim button-down.
Seriously, these two couldn’t get any hotter.
“Angie, is that them?” Brandon calls out from the kitchen, but I hear his footsteps getting closer. “Holy shit,” he blurts out as his hand comes to rest on my hip.
“You two are a match-made-in-heaven couple with your limited vocabulary,” Carter jokes and grabs Miles’s hand, pulling him inside and closing the door behind him.
“That’s Miles Reed,” Brandon whispers into my ear as we continue to stand at the front door.
“Highest paid, Point Guard, Miles Reed, in your house,” I flatly say. “How?”
“If you two are done gossiping about us, can we eat?” Carter shouts from the living room.
I flick the lock on Brandon’s door and follow him into the kitchen, where the food is waiting to be served. The aromas hit me when he takes the lid off of what looks like a pot roast.
“A man with his own place and can cook a pot roast,” I sigh dreamily.
“Boyfriend material, huh?” he asks with a teasing smirk.
“Among other things,” I murmur, but don’t miss the lift of his cheeks as he pulls apart the food.
“Will you get the plates out of the cupboard behind you? And then the salad container out of the fridge?”
We prepare the plates in comfortable silence that verges on antsy as we’re both itching to share a meal with Miles.
I don’t follow sports like the majority of the Philly residents here, but you can’t live here without knowing Miles Reed.
He’s the same age that Liam would be today, and when March Madness was happening, that’s all that was playing on the television.
Well, that, and alternating between watching Liam’s baseball games since we couldn’t travel all the time.
When news broke that he wanted to play in his home city to be closer to family—it changed the way athletes were drafted. It seems a lot of people my age are family-oriented, whether that be your parents or a partner.
Brandon and I carry the food into the dining room while Carter and Miles join us. I feel out of place as B goes to get a pitcher of water and glasses for us.
“So…wow,” Brandon says and takes his seat next to me. “Suddenly, Carter is more interesting by being attached to you.”
“Gee, thanks, buddy,” Carter says sarcastically.
“Anytime, pal,” he quips and we dig into the food.
“Brandon told me you two live in the same building?” I ask to steer the conversation to the juicy parts of their relationship after a while.
Miles nods and wipes his mouth off with a napkin. “Yep. Truthfully, I never socialized with anyone in our building for certain reasons.”
“But then I swiped right on a dating app, and lo and behold, we’re practically neighbors.” Carter beams.
“Somewhere there’s a romance book like ours,” Miles says and looks at Carter.
If it’s possible for a man to blush as hard as Carter, I’d pay big money to see that.
“Okay, let’s play a game,” I announce and shovel in more food to my mouth.
“You and your games,” Brandon teases.
“Hush, you,” I say and place my hand on his arm. “Who’s more romantic?”
They both look at each other as if trying to calculate their couple-dom. Brandon takes my empty plate and puts it to the side with his and kisses me on the side of the head. Something I’ve noticed, and not complained about, is his need to touch me and have me reassure him I’m comfortable.
Carter clears his throat and Brandon looks at his friend. “We’d like to answer your question.”
Brandon holds his hand out. “By all means.”
“We’re both romantic,” Carter says.
“But if you’re asking who does the bigger grand gestures, neither of us.
I’m already around the flashy part of being an athlete and I didn't want any relationship that I started to be all about the grander things. For us, it’s the smaller things that make what the other is doing more romantic.
Getting the other’s coffee order right, or delivering food to each other’s door because we had a late night, and giving each other space but not too much space when we need to decompress.
” Miles finishes with a smile aimed at his boyfriend.
“What’s—what do you call each other? Like boyfriend-boyfriend? Partner?” I ask curiously.
“It depends on both of our moods.” They laugh together and it’s so easy to see how in sync they are.
“How long have you been out?” Brandon asks Miles, clearly concerned for his friend.
“I came out to my parents when I was sixteen. They weren’t happy at first because they claimed their chances of having a grandbaby was ruined.
But I assured them I have three older sisters, who all have kids now, and that they would get their grandbabies.
My family has since become very supportive of my queer identity.
It’s everyone else that will have a problem. ”
I rest my arms on the table and lean forward. “You haven’t told anyone on your team?”
“I’m sure they suspect that I’m gay, but they haven’t said anything to me. Also my sexual orientation is really none of their concern.”
“I like that,” I tell him.
“What about you two?”
I blow out a breath that ruffles my lips and look over at Brandon. He gives me a soft smile and lets me take the lead.
“Our brothers were best friends and our families ended up doing vacations together.” I give the cliff notes version.
“That’s so fun. Do your families still vacation together?” Miles asks hopefully.
Brandon and I shake our heads. “No. Um, there was an accident a couple years ago.”
Miles' eyes widen in horror. “That was—”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry,” Miles says, and the silence is so awkward, you could cut it with a knife. “I take it you’re hiding your relationship, too?”
“We’ve been out on dates,” Brandon begins, “but we’ve made sure not to go anywhere that any of our families would frequent.”
“Is that hard?” Miles asks.
I shake my head. “Sometimes? We’ve been together for a few months. And as we get closer, it is harder to keep it from those who love us. When we’re ready, we’ll tell them.”
And we will. I know that I like Brandon more than normal. But my parents are just coming around, and his are slowly healing as well. When we know that this is more than a fling, we’ll tell them.