Chapter 31
Isaac
My mom’s kitchen smells of warm spices, the last of the chicken casserole Trevor helped me cook cooling on the countertop.
Although the term helped may be understating it. Trevor did most of the work. If anything, I slowed him down.
He’s washing his hands now as Lumi and Todd start a batch of cookies. My mom is sitting at the table, watching us all with a fond smile, despite insisting she didn’t need any help prepping food this week.
I head her way, taking the empty seat beside her. “You’re going to have to get used to it.”
“What’s that?” she asks lightly.
“This. Us being around. Helping. Even if you don’t need it.”
I don’t say the implied yet. My mom knows what’s coming, as do I.
She lets out a soft breath, her eyes casing my face. “I think I did all right with you.”
“What?” I ask around a chuckle.
“I know children might not be in your plans, and that’s perfectly fine,” my mom says, her hand squeezing my arm on the table.
“But when a person becomes a parent, there’s this…
weight. It’s expectation not to mess our kids up.
Not to pass on our own hurt or insecurities.
Not to give them new ones we didn’t even think about.
I’m not saying I was perfect. I know I wasn’t.
But I don’t think I could have possibly predicted you, Isaac. You’re a marvel.”
I shake my head, caught off guard by her words. “I’m nothing special.”
My mom raises an eyebrow. “Oh, really? So those friends of yours over there mixing chocolate chip cookie dough? They’re here for me, not you?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
“And that man who brought his own spices so he could make one of his family’s favorite dishes taste as good as it does at home… He doesn’t think you’re anything special?”
“I’m just…me,” I manage.
My mom’s smile grows. “Yes. Exactly. You’re you. And I’m so grateful for that.”
I blink several times, trying to get my emotions under control. “You’re biased. You have to love me no matter what.”
My mom laughs. “And what’s their excuse?”
My eyes ping over to Lumi and Todd. To Trevor. My heart thumps as Trevor’s gaze catches mine, the tiniest smile on his face like an automatic switch.
Oh shit.
My mom squeezes my arm again, her laughter soft at whatever expression I’m wearing. The ringing of my phone is a welcome distraction…
Until I pull it free and see the name on the screen.
The call goes to voicemail, but I make a split-second decision before pressing redial and standing. “Excuse me,” I tell my mom, heading for the front door. I steel myself as I step outside, the air warm enough today that I don’t need a jacket.
My dad answers quickly. “Isaac, I was just—”
“Don’t start,” I cut in, the satisfaction I feel at rendering my dad speechless short-lived. My nerves return in full force, even as I know this needs to be done. Even as I know it’s right. “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say to me.”
He makes an affronted sound. “What on earth—”
“How many boyfriends have I lost because of you?”
My dad once again goes quiet. “Isaac…”
“Do you have a tally? Or is it unimportant enough to you that you don’t even remember?”
He blows out a heavy breath. “I just want what’s best for your future.”
My laugh is incredulous. “No you don’t. Stop lying to yourself. And stop calling. No more checks, no more fancy dinners, none of it. I don’t want you in my life anymore.”
“Isaac, you’re being—”
“Don’t you dare tell me I’m being irrational.
You…” I suck in a breath, pissed to feel tears lining my eyes.
I blink every one of them away. “You don’t get to sabotage my life and call it love.
It’s not. I could deal with the rest of it.
I really could. Your disapproval, trying to push me into a business I had no interest in, parading me around like you give a shit.
But the second you tried to buy the man I love—”
My voice cracks, and I suck in another breath, my lungs aching. There’s silence at the other end of the line, the tension heavy before I cut into it again.
“I don’t want a single thing more from you. I’ve had enough.”
I hang up without waiting to see if my dad has any excuses to offer. I have no doubt I’ll hear from him again, but I block his number regardless.
Trevor finds me sitting on the front steps a few minutes later. He lowers himself next to me, his presence warm and solid, his hands clasped together between his knees. I watch those hands for a moment, ink over fingers that have been nothing but gentle with me, the man the same.
He’s already looking my way when I bring my gaze up to his face.
I’m not a poet like him. I don’t ever seem to have perfect words, and expressing myself in the first place has never been easy. But I still try.
Because he deserves it.
“When I think about my perfect place, it’s a library,” I tell him softly.
“Maybe because I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, and books have always been…
approachable. I don’t know. But I always felt safe there, even inside my own head.
And for as long as I can remember, the library looked exactly the same. ”
Trevor watches me curiously. Quietly.
I puff out a tiny breath before going on.
“It’s looked different lately. There’s this guy there that never used to be inside my dream library.
He takes up a lot of space, but I don’t mind.
I actually like it a lot. Because he’s comfortable to be around, and he makes me feel…
safe. The same way my books do. I think…
I think I love this man. And that scares me a lot.
Because dreams don’t always come true. And reality? God. Sometimes it sucks.”
Trevor’s slowly spreading smile makes my heart skip a beat.
“Say something,” I beg. “Please.”
He eases around until he’s in front of me, his knees outside of my feet. His hands lift my face until we’re eye to eye. “At the end when we’re recounting our days. I hope, I hope, I know. You and I will still be us.”
My laugh is hoarse. “You asshole. That was from when you were waxing poetic about, well…my asshole. You didn’t know then. You couldn’t have.”
His smile never wavers.
“God.” My eyes slip shut as Trevor’s thumbs run over my jaw, my chest so tight it hurts. “Tell me?”
Lips ghost over the corner of my mouth. “I love you, too, Red. And I’ll be around when that no longer scares you. I promise.”
My exhale shudders from my lungs. “Will you build me a library?”
“Yes,” he says simply.
“And fill it with all my favorite books?”
“Yes.”
“And buy me new books?”
A chuckle. “Yes, brat.”
“Will you be there with me?” I ask, blinking my eyes open to find dark, dark brown staring back at me.
“It’s where I belong. If you’re there, so am I.”
The tears I’ve been fighting all day finally slip free.
Trevor kisses them away, staying with me outside my childhood home until I’ve found my footing again.
When we head inside, it’s hand in hand, the smell of vanilla perfuming the kitchen from the freshly baked cookies, smiles passed around along with napkins and glasses of milk.
It feels, at least for a little while, wonderfully and perfectly normal.
What did Todd call it? Making the best of the time we’re given?
Maybe it doesn’t have to be any more complicated than that.
“You’re fucking with me.”
Trevor gives me a proud smirk, shifting his laptop around so I can see the screen. There, front and center, is his subscriber count. “Just hit five thousand.”
My mouth drops open. “Trevor. Holy shit…”
I do the math quickly inside my head, the cost of the monthly subscription times the number of people, and…Jesus.
It’s only been a couple months since Trevor launched his website, but in that time, he’s added two other performers to the lineup and placed teaser videos around on free sites to drive traffic his way. The impact has been…astronomical.
“You realize you guys are going to blow the fuck up once you start partner scenes,” I point out. “I mean…look at how many people you have on the hook already.”
Trevor hums. “Just need a decent cameraman.”
“The rest of the crew is squared away?”
He nods. “And the warehouse will be ours come end of summer.”
“You should ask Bill,” Todd says.
I peer over the edge of my bed. Todd is lying on the floor, a textbook open in front of him. “I’m sorry, who?”
He raises his head, his eyes taking a second to focus on me. “Bill,” he repeats. At my continued stare, he lifts an eyebrow. “Our housemate?”
“Ohhh. Bill. That’s his name.”
Todd shakes his head, a fond smile on his face as he flips a page in his book. “You prickly little hedgehog, you.”
“Say it to my face,” I grumble.
Todd looks me square in the eye. “I said, you prickly little—”
Trevor tugs me back from the edge of the bed in the nick of time. “Easy, Red.”
I huff a breath as he holds me tight, his next words aimed at Todd.
“Bill knows how to work a camera?”
Todd hums his yes. “He does videography work for a wedding studio in town. I mean, I don’t know if he wants to get into porn, but it’s worth checking. He’s graduating this year.”
Trevor glances my way, a brow raised. “That could work.”
“Uh-huh. Super great. Could you kindly let me go now?”
Trevor does without question, a resigned expression on his face.
Todd squawks when I roll onto him, my friend trying and failing to crawl away. “Your knee is in a very uncomfortable place,” he ekes out.
“I’m not prickly,” I gripe. “Take it back.”
“Tell that to everything poking me.” Todd groans feebly as his fight leaves him. “My ribs.”
I flop onto the floor next to his prone body, Todd’s face on the carpet as I stare up at the ceiling. “Sorry,” I manage, winded. “God, I’m really out of shape.”
Todd reaches over and pats my stomach. “You okay?”
The fact that he’s asking me that after I just smashed him to my floor has my eyes pooling fast. At my silence, Todd looks over, his cheek red from the carpet and alarm taking over his features.
“Whoa, bae. What’s going on?”
“You’re graduating, too,” I point out. “Not just Bill. And so is Lumi.”
“Okay?” he says slowly.
I huff. “And I don’t know what that means, okay?
Are we even going to be here in another couple months?
You and me in this house? Or are you going to find some job in a lab somewhere halfway across the country and call maybe once every two years when you remember I exist and think oh yeah, that Isaac guy, I should check in with him.
Everything is changing, and I don’t like it.
It’s just going to be me and Camden and Bill and…
that other guy with the room that smells like socks. Socks, Todd.”
My friend is staring at me with wide eyes.
“What?” I cry.
He scoots upright, his hands on my shoulders as he holds my eye, the rugburn on his cheek making me wince. “You give the absolute best I love yous.”
“How is that what you heard?”
Todd tugs me into a hug, my complaint falling away as his arms wrap around me tight.
“Isaac… I hate to break it to you, but you’re stuck with us.
Me. Lumi. I don’t know where I’ll end up, but I do know it’ll never be two years between phone calls.
Yeah, some things might change. But that’s okay.
Because any changes we go through, we’ll go through together. ”
“Goddamn it, Todd.”
He rubs my back. “I know. Library Guy, would you get down here for a second and hug your boyfriend? He’s leaking, and I need to make a call.”
As Trevor’s arms come around me, Todd slips away. I turn and hide my face against Trevor’s chest, figuring if I don’t open my eyes, I can pretend I didn’t just spew my feelings everywhere.
Unfortunately, Lumi’s voice cutting through Todd’s speakerphone makes that impossible. “Isaac Newport! Can you hear me?”
I croak a laugh against the fabric of Trevor’s shirt. “Yes.”
“Good. Because I need you to answer a question. Do you think I pick just anyone to be my best friend?”
“No,” I admit. “I don’t.”
“That’s right. I picked you for a reason. Are you telling me I’m not a smart person?”
I can’t stop my smile. I turn my cheek to Trevor’s chest, finding Todd holding up his phone, both he and Lumi waiting for my response. “You’re the smartest person I know.”
“Damn straight,” Lumi says. “So stop thinking you’re inconsequential. Neither of us will be leaving your life any more than that guy currently wrapped around you. Trevor, you’re hugging him, right?”
“I am,” Trevor confirms.
“Good. Are you getting it, babe?”
“Yeah,” I say hoarsely, swiping at my cheek. “You’re here to stay.”
Todd nods, Lumi lets out an approving sound, and Trevor kisses the top of my head, his arms wrapped around me so tight I can’t move an inch.
It’s funny how the smallest moments can be so memorable.
You’d never know it at the time, but looking back ten, twenty years down the road, it’s those tiny pieces that stick with you, like edges of a puzzle making your whole.
It’s the friendships that won’t let you go.
The people who love you through thick and thin.
The reassurances that you’re accepted for who you are, even when you feel like such a mess.
No, they’re not always earth-shattering at the time. But the tiniest tremor can shape the world as you know it. A promise from a friend. A flame flickering into life.
A seed, waiting for the right moment to grow.
So small. Yet so, so very big.
Maybe I knew at twenty-five, even if I couldn’t yet see it, that right then, on the floor of my bedroom, my forest had already begun to grow.