Chapter 20
Kent
All morning I’d been doing everything I could to be busy.
It wasn’t often that I was actually at the office for the construction company.
Usually I was out at jobs, supervising on site and making sure everything ran smoothly.
But today Derek had asked me directly to come in for the day.
I wanted to convince myself it was just for paperwork that I’d fallen behind on.
But I knew the truth. Derek wanted to talk about my outburst last night at the bar.
That coupled with the fact that I’d fucked my stepbrother for the first time last night, had me on edge in a way that I didn’t know was possible.
I hadn’t been able to eat all morning, and the thought of coffee made my stomach turn.
My hands were already shaking, and I doubted the caffeine would make that any better anyway.
I’d busied myself with organizing supply invoices, checking time sheets, and responding to emails that didn’t really need immediate responses. Anything to avoid thinking about the inevitable conversation with Derek.
Around ten-thirty, his office door opened and he stuck his head out, scanning the room until his eyes landed on me.
“Kent. Got a minute?”
My stomach dropped. “Yeah, sure.”
I stood up, my legs feeling unsteady as I crossed the open office space. A few of the other guys glanced up from their desks, and I wondered if they’d already heard about last night. If Tyler had been running his mouth all morning.
Derek’s office was small but organized, with blueprints tacked to one wall and a massive desk covered in project folders. He gestured to the chair across from him as he settled into his own seat.
“Close the door, would you?”
Fuck. That wasn’t a good sign.
I did as he asked and sat down, trying to appear calm even though my heart was hammering against my ribs. Derek leaned back in his chair, studying me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
“So,” he started, folding his hands on the desk. “Want to tell me what happened last night?”
I’d rehearsed this conversation a dozen times in my head during the sleepless hour before dawn, but now that I was actually sitting here, all my carefully planned explanations evaporated.
“I overreacted,” I said finally. “Tyler was making some jokes that rubbed me the wrong way, and I should’ve just let it go.”
“Jokes about your stepbrother being gay.”
“Yeah.”
Derek nodded slowly. “From where I was sitting, it looked like a lot more than an overreaction,” he added carefully.
“You were legitimately upset, which is fine. Tyler’s jokes can go a little far sometimes.
But if last night had been a month or two ago, you would’ve been making those jokes right along with him. ”
I swallowed hard, knowing he was right. A few weeks ago, I would’ve been the first one to crack a joke about James bringing home some guy from a bar or making comments about him checking me out. The realization made shame curl hot in my gut.
“People change,” I said, my voice coming out more sheepish than I intended.
“They do,” Derek agreed. “But not usually overnight. So, I’m going to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me. Not as your boss, but as someone who considers you a friend.”
My pulse kicked up another notch. “Okay.”
He leaned forward, his expression serious but not unkind. “Are you going through something right now? Something personal that’s affecting how you’re showing up to work, to these social situations?”
The question was so direct, so unexpectedly compassionate, that for a moment I couldn’t speak. I’d been prepared for anger, for a lecture about professionalism, maybe even a warning about my job performance. I hadn’t been prepared for genuine concern.
“I...” I started, then stopped. What could I possibly say? Yes, Derek, I’m going through something. I’m sleeping with my stepbrother and I think I might be in love with him, and it’s turning my entire understanding of who I am upside down.
“You don’t have to give me details,” Derek continued when I didn’t respond.
“But I’ve known you for years, Kent. You’re a good worker, reliable, and you’ve never caused problems before.
So, when you storm out of a bar after defending your stepbrother like your life depends on it, I notice.
When you come into work looking like you haven’t slept in days, I notice that too. ”
I rubbed my face with both hands, trying to buy myself time to think. Through my fingers, I could see Derek waiting patiently, his expression open and non-judgmental.
“I’m figuring some stuff out,” I finally admitted. “About myself. And it’s... complicated.”
“Does this have to do with your sexuality?”
The question hit me like a punch to the gut. My hands dropped from my face and I stared at him, unable to hide my shock. Derek held up a hand before I could panic.
“I’m not trying to put you on the spot,” he said quickly. “And I’m not asking you to come out to me or label yourself or anything like that. But I’ve been around the block, Kent. I recognize the signs of someone wrestling with something they’ve been taught to be ashamed of.”
My throat felt tight. “How did you—”
“The way you reacted last night wasn’t just about defending your stepbrother.
It was personal. Like Tyler’s words were hitting you directly.
” He paused, choosing his words carefully.
“And for what it’s worth, I don’t care who you’re attracted to.
You do good work, you show up on time, and you treat people with respect. That’s what matters to me.”
The relief that flooded through me was so intense I felt dizzy. I’d been so terrified of this conversation, convinced that admitting anything would mean losing my job, my reputation, everything I’d worked for. But here was Derek, offering me understanding instead of judgment.
“I’m still figuring it out,” I said quietly. “I don’t have all the answers yet.”
“Nobody does,” Derek said with a slight smile. “But here’s what I need from you as your boss. Whatever you’re going through personally, I need you to keep it professional at work. That means you need to get some sleep and take better care of yourself. Can you do that?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I can do that.”
“Good. And I’ll talk to the guys and tell them they need to tone down the jokes a bit.
They could stand to be a bit more professional, anyway.
” He pulled a folder from the stack on his desk, effectively signaling that the serious part of the conversation was over.
“Now, about the Jackson project. I need you to run point on the electrical inspection next week...”
We spent the next twenty minutes going over project details, and I was grateful for the return to normalcy.
But as I left his office and headed back to my desk, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something fundamental had shifted.
Derek knew. Maybe not the specifics, maybe not about James, but he knew enough. And he didn’t care.
The thought was both terrifying and liberating.
I pulled out my phone, seeing a text from James that had come through while I was in Derek’s office.
James: How’s work going? Everything okay?
I stared at the message, my thumb hovering over the keyboard.
I thought about last night—both the disaster with Trevor and the incredible intimacy that had come after.
The way James had refused to let me pull away, had demanded that I stay and face what was happening between us.
The way he’d felt underneath me, around me, the sounds he’d made. ..
Me: Better than expected. Tell you about it tonight.
Three dots appeared immediately.
James: Can’t wait. Also, I’m making dinner. Real food, not takeout.
Me: You cook now?
James: Don’t sound so surprised. I know how to use Google.
Heat crept up my neck and I quickly locked my phone, glancing around to make sure nobody was reading over my shoulder. The last thing I needed was someone seeing that message.
But I was smiling as I turned back to my computer, and for the first time all day, the knot of anxiety in my chest had loosened slightly.
Maybe we could actually do this. Maybe it didn’t have to be the disaster I’d been convinced it would be. Derek’s acceptance had shown me that not everyone would react with disgust or judgment. Some people—the right people—would understand.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of paperwork and phone calls. Tyler avoided me, which was fine by me. Marcus gave me a sympathetic nod when our paths crossed in the break room but didn’t bring up the previous night. By the time five o’clock rolled around, I was exhausted but in good spirits.
I drove home with the windows down, letting the cool air clear my head.
The apartment was filled with the smell of something savory when I walked in—garlic and herbs and what might have been chicken.
James was in the kitchen, wearing a plain apron that I was pretty sure had never seen the light of day before.
“You actually cooked,” I said, dropping my keys on the counter.
He looked up from whatever he was stirring on the stove, a smile spreading across his face. “Told you I would. How’d it go with Derek?”
I moved closer, drawn to him like a magnet. “He knew. Or at least, he suspected.”
James’s expression shifted to concern, his hand stilling on the spoon. “And?”
“And he was cool about it. Said he didn’t care who I was attracted to, just that I needed to keep it professional at work.” I leaned against the counter beside him, close enough that our shoulders touched. “He’s going to talk to the guys about toning down the jokes.”
“Wow.” James set the spoon down and turned to face me fully. “That’s... that’s really good, Kent.”
“Yeah.” I felt something loosen in my chest, something I hadn’t even realized was wound so tight. “I was terrified all day, thinking he was going to fire me or lecture me about how I was representing the company. But he was just... cool.”
James reached out, his hand finding mine. “See? Not everyone is going to react badly.”
“One person,” I pointed out. “That’s a sample size of one. Trevor sure as hell didn’t take it well.”
“Trevor was hurt and confused. And for what it’s worth, I don’t think he’s going to tell anyone.
What would he even say? He doesn’t have any proof, and honestly, who would believe him anyway?
” James squeezed my hand. “We’re stepbrothers.
Most people would assume he was just being vindictive after a breakup. ”
I wanted to believe that. God, I wanted to believe that so badly. But the fear still lingered, a constant hum in the back of my mind.
“What are you making?” I asked, changing the subject before I could spiral into anxiety again.
“Chicken piccata. Or at least, my attempt at it.” He gestured to the pan. “I figured we should celebrate you surviving your talk with Derek.”
“With lemon and capers?”
“Don’t knock it until you try it.” He turned back to the stove, adjusting the heat. “Go get changed. It’ll be ready in about ten minutes.”
I headed to the bedroom, stripping off my work clothes and pulling on sweats and a t-shirt.
When I caught sight of myself in the mirror, I paused.
I looked tired, the shadows under my eyes evidence of too many sleepless nights.
But there was something else too—a softness around my mouth, a lightness in my expression that hadn’t been there a week ago.
I looked like someone who was happy. Or at least, someone who was on their way to being happy.
The realization was startling enough that I stood there for a moment, just staring at my reflection. When had that happened? When had I stopped being the bitter, angry guy who couldn’t see past his own prejudices?
“Kent? You good?” James called from the kitchen.
“Yeah, coming.”