Chapter 40
Chapter Forty
Ashton
The frigid lake crashes in towering waves against the shore as we drive along Lakeshore Avenue, icicles clinging to the pier like glass. The sky is a flat stretch of gray, heavy and endless. My foot taps restlessly against the floor of Troy’s van as he drives.
I hate surprises.
A frown tugs at my lips when he pulls into the lot of Black Cat Brewery, easing into a spot among a sea of cars. I recognize one of them as Phoebe’s beat-up Jeep. Confusion and uncertainty knot together in my stomach.
“Uh… what’s going on?” I ask, glancing around. “You said the brewery closed early today.”
“We did,” he says easily, already reaching for the door.
That… doesn’t answer my question.
I climb out of the van, the cold biting at my face as I follow him across the lot, my anxiety building with each step. “Troy,” I press, jogging a little to keep up with him, “what are we doing here?”
He glances at me, a suspicious twinkle glimmering in his warm brown eyes. “We’re having Thanksgiving dinner.”
I blink at him. “What? I thought we were having Chinese takeout.”
He just smiles, leaning in to press a quick kiss to my cheek. “I lied.”
Before I can even process that, he’s ushering me inside.
Warmth hits me first—then noise.
Voices. Laughter. The clatter of dishes.
I stop dead in my tracks.
The entire taproom has been transformed.
All the tables have been pushed together into one long stretch, covered in food.
Steam curls into the air, plates and silverware set neatly at each seat.
My eyes dart across it all, the smell hitting me all at once, rich and savory.
Mac and cheese. Roasted vegetables. Fresh rolls.
Turkey, golden and glistening, carved and seasoned with herbs.
Imani stands at the table, setting down a dish. Her apron is stained from a full day of cooking, and when she looks up and sees me frozen in the doorway, she offers a small, knowing smile. Her lips are painted a bold, vibrant orange.
My gaze drifts past her, scanning the room.
I spot Phoebe, Shane, and Imani’s wife. Then—
My breath catches.
All four of my siblings.
For a second, I can’t move. Can’t think. My eyes sting before I even realize what’s happening, my vision blurring as it all crashes over me at once.
Above the bar, the rainbow Pride flag and the bi flag hang side by side, catching the warm light. Troy put them up a few weeks ago, right after we went public. I remember the fallout—the muttered complaints, the customers who stopped coming.
But I remember the ones who came after too.
The ones who walked in with relief written all over their faces. The scared queer folks who drove in from miles out, just to have somewhere safe to exist for a few hours. The quiet thank-yous. The way this place slowly became something more than just a brewery.
And now, it’s full of everyone I love.
“Yo, Ash!”
I barely have time to react before Luke slams into me, wrapping me up in a hug that nearly knocks the air out of my lungs.
“It’s about damn time!” He laughs against my shoulder. “I’m starving.”
Somewhere behind me, Troy snorts. “Sorry we’re late,” he calls. “Someone was stinky and needed a shower.”
“Hey—” I start, but it comes out weak, dazed, my arms still slowly coming up to hug Luke.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, pulling back enough to look at him. My voice wobbles. “Why aren’t you at Mom and Dad’s?”
Before he can answer, Olivia steps up beside him, Justin and Chloe close behind. She squeezes my arm, then nudges me gently toward the table.
“We didn’t want to go anywhere you aren’t welcome,” she says simply.
My vision blurs completely, my chest tightening so fast it almost hurts.
“Are you serious?” I manage, my voice breaking.
Chloe wraps her arms around me from the side. “Duh. You’re our brother.”
Justin nods, quieter but just as sure. “We’ve got you, bro. Always.”
Everyone crowds the makeshift dining table, eager to dig in. Chairs scrape against the floor. Troy’s hand grabs mine, warm and steady, and gives a gentle tug.
“C’mon,” he urges.
I let him guide me to the table, still a little dazed, my chest full in a way I don’t know what to do with. He pulls out a chair for me at the very end—one of the head spots—before taking the one beside it.
In front of me sits a plate, neatly arranged silverware, and a can of Cherry Moon cider. The aluminum is cold in my hand when I pick it up, condensation beading against my fingers. I stare at it for a second before setting it back down, my throat tight again.
Around us, everyone settles in, filling the seats, passing dishes down the long stretch of tables. The room buzzes with warmth—voices overlapping, laughter bubbling up, the clink of serving spoons against ceramic.
Imani catches my eye from across the table, her expression soft. “I hope you’re hungry,” she says with a grin. “I might’ve gone a little overboard.”
I let out a quiet laugh, blinking away the last of the tears threatening to spill. “Thank you,” I choke out. “Seriously.”
She waves it off like it’s nothing, already turning to pass a dish down the line.
“You heard her,” Luke says loudly, already reaching for the nearest plate. “Time to dig in before I pass out.”
A ripple of laughter moves down the table, and just like that, everything shifts into motion. Plates are filled. Bowls are passed. I faintly register a playful argument over whether sweet potato or pumpkin pie is the best.
I sit there for a second, just taking it in.
Beneath the table, Troy gives my thigh a reassuring squeeze. “You okay?”
I nod, my chest tightening again. “Yeah,” I say, my voice low. “I’m… yeah.”
Troy leans in, his hand sliding up to cup my cheek, turning my face toward his. His knuckles brush just beneath my eye, like he’s checking for tears I didn’t let fall.
“Thank you,” I say quietly. “For this. For all of it.”
“Wasn’t just me,” he says with a shrug. “Group effort.”
I kiss him—soft and sweet, right there at the head of the table, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. A few teasing whistles and hollers ripple down the table, but they fade into the background. All I can focus on is the warmth of his mouth and the steady presence of him beside me.
When we finally pull apart, I cup his cheek, my chest so full it almost aches.
“I’m really glad you were so persistent about us becoming business partners,” I admit.
“Funny,” he says with a smirk. “Could’ve sworn you once said mixing business and pleasure was a terrible idea.”
I smile, brushing my thumb gently across his cheek. “I take it back,” I murmur as I lean in for another kiss. “Best decision I ever made.”