“I don’t need it, you know,” I say, trying to be brave even though I don’t want to talk about this. But I want Craig, and if it’s something he needs to discuss so that we can be together, then we’ll discuss it. “It’s just that different people have different kinks, and that happens to be mine. But we could never bring it up ever again, and I’d be totally fine with that.”

It’s not exactly the truth, but I’ll make it be if it means keeping Craig. My back is to his chest as we cuddle together on my quilt, but I can still feel his frown, even if I can’t see it.

“You shouldn’t have to hide what you want,” he says, “but I’m honestly not sure how to be in an open relationship. Or if I’d even be okay with that.”

“Oh god, no! I don’t want an open relationship. Random hookup sex is the last thing I’d want,” I say, twisting in his arms to face him.

At that moment, two kids run past, chasing their wiener dog with sparklers in hand. It suddenly occurs to me that we are in public, in a park, and this probably isn’t the best place to be having this conversation. I look at Craig and he’s cringing too.

“Maybe it would help if you tell me exactly what it is that you want. Or what it is you like about …”

“Playing Parcheesi?” I offer.

Craig’s brow furrows. “That’s a reference,” he says and I nod. “Damn it, I know it’s going to come to me.” I can’t help the snicker that slips out, and he rolls his eyes. “You will not best me at this game.”

“Fine, but no Googling. You only get the reference if you remember it unaided.”

He’s gone silent, and I wait. And wait.

“So back to Parcheesi? Or I can call it something else if that’s going to bug you too much.”

“No, no. I’m with you now. Explain it to me.”

I turn back around and he tucks his arms around me. I can feel his breath behind my ear and I shiver, pulling his arms tighter around me. Deep breaths. No pressure. Who am I kidding? So much pressure.

“I’m really not sure if I’m going to explain this right, because on some level, I don’t even really get it. But I’ll try.” I feel him nod against me, but he doesn’t say anything. Just waits for me to continue. I try my best to collect my thoughts, but it’s terrifying. I’m sure if Craig wasn’t holding me so tight, I’d be trembling. “I don’t want to play Parcheesi with you sometimes, and a different guy another time, and someone else another time. I want to only play Parcheesi with you. But I like the idea that, maybe sometimes, you enjoy watching me play Parcheesi so much that you want to bring in other people to join your side. Because, you know, sometimes, some people share the things they have with others because it fills them with a certain amount of pride to see other people enjoying the things that they have. And it makes the person you’re playing Parcheesi with feel good, knowing that you think they’re so good at something that it would bring you joy and pride and pleasure to share the game with others. And because the player is yours, he loves knowing he gives you that when you share him. That it isn’t because he means so little to you, but because he means so much.”

I’ve rambled on so long that when I finally stop for a breath, it comes out shaky and uneven. But I’m so scared right now, I can’t stop the nerves from spreading to every part of me. My shaking limbs. My staccato breathing.

“Oh, Zach,” Craig breathes into my hair before placing his lips lightly against my neck again and again.

“Please say something,” I whisper into the air that’s suddenly filled with the loud booming of the first firework, and I know that his response will have to wait for the fireworks show to be over. Fuck.

Craig’s hand strokes up my neck and along my jaw, making me turn my head toward him. He captures my mouth and holds me still. His lips brush mine, soft at first, then wet lips prod mine and he strokes my cheek until I open to him. I turn in his lap and clasp my arms around his neck, refusing to release him, even when his mouth releases mine and travels down to nip at my jaw and neck. He whispers my name over and over between bites, until I choke on a sob and he jerks backward.

Craig’s eyes search mine, his hands still cradling my face and his thumbs wiping away the tears that I’m so embarrassed have slipped out. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he says into my ear, but it sounds like a whisper with the booming around us. “I’ve got you. We’ll figure Parcheesi out. As long as we’re playing it together, as boyfriends or partners or whatever you want to call it, that’s all that matters to me.”

I don’t see a single one of the fireworks. I spend the entire show in Craig’s lap, clinging to him like I’m afraid he’ll turn into smoke and slip through my fingers.