I should tell him, but I’m afraid of messing up this moment. Something I didn’t even know I needed. “I’m grateful to you guys. I really am.”
“We know,” Blair says as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. “You’re ours. Whether you fight it or accept it, you are ours. Whether you’re eighteen or fifty. It doesn’t matter. We love you.”
“I love you too.” She smiles and hugs me.
“This is gross.” She sniffs, and I realize she’s crying.
“Yeah. It really is.” But I only hug her tighter.
“Let’s do a Moore family day, okay? Soon.” I agree, but it sticks in my gut when I hear the name Moore I fought against.
“I want to change my last name.”
They both look startled, and Blair leans back again, searching my face. “You do?”
I nod, feeling like a stupid kid until I see Rhys wearing the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on his face. “Finally.”
I laugh at that, and then, so does Blair. “I’ll go with you if you want.”
I nod and smile at her.
I’m finally ready to be a Moore and maybe even let them love me, like they always have. But this time, without fighting it.
THIRTY-SIX
I’m not sure how long I’ve been here, but I’m relieved when I see headlights and then Rhett’s car before he climbs out, looking surprised I’m here but not upset.
“Hey,” he says as he reaches me.
“Hey.”
We stare at each other for a few moments before I follow him up the stairs to his place. He lets us both in and closes the door behind us, his body language tense in a way I don’t like.
“I’m sorry.” His green eyes meet mine, a darkness in them.
“It’s not your fault.”
He flops down on the couch, tossing his keys on the table. “It is. You trusted me, and I trusted her. I never thought she’d ever say anything.”
I sit next to him, wanting to pull him to me, but also knowing Rhett pretty well by now. Physical contact isn’t what he needs. Not yet. “Shit happens. I know she didn’t mean to do that.”
“She didn’t.” He says it fiercely, but then backs up quickly. “I mean, it was fucked up, I’m not trying to defend her, but . . .”
“But she’s Bree. You’ll always defend her, and you should. She’s your sister.”
He looks so damn conflicted. “She’s really sorry.”
I smile at that. “I know. It’s okay. Josh was . . .” I think again about my goofy-ass friend. “He was fine, and I don’t know.” I lean back against the couch. “I’m not as upset about it as maybe I should be. I think I’m even a little relieved.”
He looks stunned by that. “What?”
I turn my head to look at him—this mystery guy I’ve totally fallen for. Who I can’t stop thinking about. Walking across that stage today, I knew I was one step closer to leaving him, and goddammit, I don’t want to. “You know I want . . .” I take a break, swallowing away the emotions clogging my throat and make myself try. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately. I want so badly to have what my grandfather built and to return it to what he meant it to be. But I don’t know, Rhett, maybe the price is too high.”
He still looks conflicted, and I imagine the war inside that head is more than I can handle. Instead of begging me to come out or to be with him, he moves a little closer to me and clears his throat. “My parents know about us now.”
“Really?”
He nods. “Blair wants to meet you. And she offered a course on lube.”
I laugh at that, free and light. I’m sure he was trying to lighten the dark mood of the room. “I want to meet her too.” I grin. “Not sure about the lube lesson though.”
He groans and leans back next to me, covering his face. “She’s a lot.”
“But you love her,” I say definitively because there’s no question. I can hear it in his voice.
“I do.” He drops his hands and turns his head to look at me. “I couldn’t tell Rhys about the job yet, but I want to.”
I nod, knowing it’s a burden on him. “I think it’s going to be okay. They love you.” I think back to the love my grandfather showed me—like I could never do any wrong, even when it seemed that’s all I did when I was around my father. If Rhys loves Rhett half as much as that man loved me, I know it’ll be fine. “You should tell him.”
He gives a quick nod. “Yeah. Maybe I will.” He doesn’t point out I’m keeping secrets from my own father or push me to tell him I’m gay.
We sit in comfortable silence until he turns his body more, enough to cup my face in his hands. “You’re a good man, Grayson. It’s good that you’re going to continue your grandfather’s legacy.”
My heart cracks in half, and I don’t know if it’s because of his admiration or because I want him to ask me to stay so badly. To beg me not to go and to say, “fuck it all.” But I know that’s not fair.
What we have is still new. We’re too damn young to be talking about forever, and I can’t blow up my entire life for a “friends who kiss and fool around and fuck” relationship. And I can’t ask him to want more than that or to ask me to stay.
So, I do what I do best and add a little humor and distraction. “Why the fuck are we still wearing clothes?” I waggle my eyebrows in the direction of the bed, and Rhett laughs, jumping off the couch almost instantly and pulling me toward the bed.
“According to Blair, we need lots and lots of lube. And prep.”
I burst out in laughter as he pretends to shudder before I crash my lips against his and tackle him onto the bed.
Because for now, this is enough.
I still have the summer with him.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Okay, it’s time to sac up. I can’t do this anymore. I changed my last name officially last week, and I’m set to start at Rhys’s shop tomorrow. It’s time to face him. Kole has told me several times if I want to go and work for Rhys, I can always come back. But I can’t do that.
I just can’t.
I walk into Rhys’s shop and am greeted by him almost immediately. “Hey, kid. You start tomorrow, you know? You should be lounging around and enjoying being a kid for one more day.”
Instead of laughing, guilt creeps up again because I’ve been working for months, and he looks happy at the thought of me starting here tomorrow.
Maybe I should just do it.
I shake that off quickly though. “Rhys, can I talk to you for a minute?”
I look around the busy shop and try like hell to remain strong. He turns to the giant steel clock on the wall and then back to me. “Yeah, I have an hour before I have another client scheduled. You wanna walk outside?”
I nod, surprised he has an entire hour off, but I think he’s been cutting back a little lately. Leaving it more to the newbies in his shop and working on the intricate work. Great, now I feel even worse. He’s not going to be a man up like he thought.
We walk outside, and he studies me cautiously but doesn’t pressure me to get on with it. No, Rhys is calm as he waits, even though I can see the worry in his eyes. Okay, just tell him.
“I can’t work here.” Maybe do better than that. He looks surprised like a sharp slap hit him across the jaw at my stupid blurting. “I mean, I want to, but I just . . .” I continue rambling, “It’s too much, Rhys. You’re great, and the shop is amazing. I mean, you’ve been featured on television and magazines, and I know you’re a badass. It has nothing to do with that.”
He holds up one hand, effectively shutting me up. “Breathe.”
I do. But my heart is still racing. I’ve tried to keep my family at arm’s length. I really, really have, but after telling them about Grayson the other night, I realized just how shitty of a job I’d done at that. Because they’ve wormed their way in, and dammit, I want them to be proud of me. I want him proud that I have his last name, and here I am, letting him down.
“Kiddo.” He places a hand on my shoulder. It’s a light touch but still firm somehow. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
I take another deep breath and try to steel my stance. Be strong. “Kole offered me a job. I took it. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” I grip the back of my neck with my hand so hard it hurts. “I told you I’m a shithead.”
His face remains stoic. Rhys is hard to read. “Kole? As in the kid who worked here for a bit?”
I nod. “The man you taught. Yeah. I’m so sorry, Rhys.”
His brow furrows for a moment. “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”
I shrug, looking down at my feet, my hand still digging into my neck. “I didn’t want you to hate me. Or think I’m ungrateful.” I meet his eyes again. “I promise you, I’m very grateful to you and Blair. I . . .”
His lips slowly curve up. “Rhett. Look, I know I’m not the easiest person to talk to. I’m working on it, but I know.” He places his other hand on my other shoulder and faces me head-on. “But you can tell me anything. You think I’d be anything less than proud that you want to make your own way? That you don’t want a job handed to you?”