Lloyd introduced Wesley to his mom, Cathy, a tiny woman with big hair and a huge smile. Lloyd’s opposite, though they shared the same bright hazel eyes and dark lashes.

Wesley’s insides went haywire when Lloyd slipped into an apron stamped with pictures of playful kittens. Lloyd caught the oven mitt his mom tossed him. They shifted in sync, clearly well-practiced at making family meals together.

Cathy’s eyes darted from Wesley to Caleb. “Which is the boy I have to worry about?”

Lloyd jerked a finger in Wesley’s direction. “The one who’s exceptionally quiet.”

Wesley met Lloyd’s gaze. “No exceptional stuff here.”

“Another trait you need to know about him, Mom? He lies.”

Cathy’s smile brightened. “I’m starting to see how he’s trouble.”

“Trouble? Me?” Wesley blew his bangs out of his eyes, then grinned mischievously. “Where do I sign up?”

Cathy laughed, and Lloyd handed him a platter with a tan lump of something from the oven.

“Follow me to the dining room,” Lloyd said, grabbing two bowls of vegetables.

Wesley eased the platter onto a long table set for five. “When did you set the table?”

“I didn’t. Mom did.”

“When did she do that?”

Lloyd set the bowls on the table and turned to him. “When I called her from the road. How do you feel about Tofurky?”

Wesley laughed, gaping at the tan lump he’d carried in. Oh, that wasn’t a joke. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Wesley,” Lloyd warned.

“No, I mean, I don’t care about the food. I like your home. Like that you invited us in.”

Lloyd’s gaze bore into him. His expression warred between amused and frustrated. Lloyd stepped forward. The gentle whiff of him prickled Wesley’s senses, and his heart stuttered.

Caleb and MacDonald barged into the room, and Lloyd got bossy. “You two on that side of the table. Wesley sits next to me.”

* * *

“Stop slipping Tofurky onto my plate,” Lloyd said under his breath while Caleb laughed trying to poke a bean into a glaring MacDonald’s mouth.

Wesley snuck one last forkful of Tofurky onto Lloyd’s plate. “But you are enjoying it so much.”

“I was, but now I’m full. You got seconds.”

“Your mom offered. It would’ve been rude to say no.” Wesley stabbed a roasted potato and brought it to his lips. “Love these baked vegetables, though.”

Caleb waggled his eyebrows at him. “Tried the radishes yet? If you haven’t, you should.”

Wesley kicked him under the table.

MacDonald jumped. “Really, Wesley? That’s all you plan on giving him?”

“Sorry,” he said with a chuckle. “Mind passing it on?”

MacDonald brightened. “Gladly.”

Caleb scooted his chair toward Cathy. “Great food. Fun turkey.”

Cathy grinned at her son. “How do you handle all this energy on a daily basis?”

Lloyd nodded somberly. “It’s a challenge.”

“Which he loves,” Wesley said. “It’s in his Cappy nature. Cathy, you must tell me all there is to know about your son. From the beginning. The year he was born. The specific day and time.”

“You don’t give up.” Lloyd leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

Cathy winked conspiratorially at Lloyd, automatically making Wesley suspicious. “He was such a squishy wee thing. You’d never believe he’d grow into such a handsome man.”

“And the date this handsome man came to be?”

She leaned over her plate and said in hushed tones. “He’s told me not to tell you.”

Wesley laughed and slapped a hand on Lloyd’s thigh, squeezing extra hard. “Why do you thwart my every attempt to know you?”

“Tell me that zodiac signs don’t mean anything, and I’ll tell you.”

“God, you’re such a Capricorn!”

Lloyd sighed. “He never learns.” The doorbell rang. Lloyd’s thigh stiffened under Wesley’s hold, reminding him he still hadn’t removed his hand. He pulled back, reaching for his water.

Lloyd’s brow furrowed. “She wouldn’t.”

“She would.” Cathy sighed and answered the door. She came back half a minute later introducing Aunt Tabitha.

Aunt Tabitha gave them a cursory glance, lips turning down. She flicked a finger in their direction. “Don’t they have their own family to visit?”

“And that, Wesley,” Lloyd said wiping his hands on a napkin and standing up, “about sums up my aunt.”

“Lloyd,” Tabitha said, shocked. “Where are your manners?”

“Excuse me.” Lloyd moved past her and disappeared.

Wesley threw a dirty look at the woman, then chased after Lloyd. He found him standing at the open back door, taking in deep, slow breaths.

“Got to hate it when people show up uninvited,” he said, slipping next to him on the threshold.

Leaning against the doorframe, Lloyd said, “Sorry she was rude to you.”

“Nah, it’s fine. She has a point. I kept thinking over dinner how this was what I always envisioned Thanksgiving could be, and then I thought of my mom sitting at our table. Alone.”

Lloyd tapped the toes of Wesley’s good foot. Wesley continued, “I think I might . . . I mean, after helping clean up.”

Lloyd nodded. “How long has it been since you’ve been home?”

“The gestation period of a baby horse.”

Wesley shrugged, studying the floor. As Lloyd shifted, a wall of warmth blocked a chill breeze. “I’ll clean up. Do what you have to do. Say what you have to say.”

“I love you.”

Wesley and Lloyd swung toward the approaching MacDonald and Caleb. Caleb was staring at the back of MacDonald’s head, a wry grin on his face. “I want you to have all my babies. Imagine. Lots of little MacDonalds.”

Wesley and Lloyd blinked at Caleb as though he’d gone mad. MacDonald was mad.

His brother caught their expressions and mouthed, “What?”

“You’re crazy,” Wesley said.

“Oh, certifiably.” Caleb snuck an arm around MacDonald and said in her ear, loud enough for everyone to hear. “That’s why we’d work so well together.”

MacDonald almost laughed, but then she thought better of it and met Wesley’s eye. “We need to leave. Now.”

Wesley searched her face, then searched his brother’s face for an answer.

“She’s right. We need to leave. Possibly never return.” Caleb glanced over his shoulder as though expecting half the town to arrive bearing pitchforks. “Tabitha will never recover from that burn.”

MacDonald focused on Lloyd. “I suppose I should apologize for offending that miserable old woman. But I don’t want to. Thank you for dinner and goodbye.”

Wesley followed their hasty retreat, waving at Lloyd over his shoulder. “Thank you and goodbye, apparently.”

* * *

Wesley stuffed leftover Milk Duds into his mouth and chewed hard as he eyed their front door from the car. The setting sun glinted off the windows of the Victorian façade.

Caleb gripped the steering wheel. They had dropped MacDonald at the dorms and borrowed her car. “This was your idea. You make the first move.”

“You seemed pretty eager when I suggested swinging by. Maybe you should.”

“Rock, paper, scissors?”

Wesley lost. “Best of three?”

“Out you go. I’ll hover right behind you.”

At the front door, Wesley hauled in a breath and pressed the buzzer. Almost immediately, the door opened.

Their mom stood dressed in a pantsuit. The thick, silver streak running through her piled black hair gave the impression a skunk sat atop her head. Her brows lifted in surprise, and she stepped back, gesturing them inside. “I prayed as much might happen.”

“We wanted to talk.”

“Well, he did,” Caleb murmured. Unable to help himself, he kissed her on the cheek. “I’m still mad.”

She rubbed Caleb’s upper arm, relief and weariness playing in her eyes. “I made dinner.”

Stretched across the dining room table were all their Thanksgiving favorites: mashed potatoes, creamy peas, pumpkin pie, cranberry sauce, and a turkey with a small slice carved out of it.

The lump in Wesley’s throat swelled.

“Wow, Mom, were you expecting half the congregation?” Caleb dragged out a chair and dug into the potatoes.

Wesley took a seat, but he didn’t think he could eat.

His mom frowned at Caleb. “You don’t even say grace anymore?”

Caleb paused, chewing on a turkey leg. “Grace.”

Mom sat at the head of the table where a glass of wine awaited her. “How’s your law degree coming along, Wesley?”

Wesley’s gaze flickered to the spot where their dad once sat. He’d always made his dad smile growing up. He had hoped following in his footsteps and completing a law degree would have made the great Judge Hidaka proud.

He winced apologetically. “Not great. I’ll finish my undergraduate, but then I’m quitting college.”

He surprised himself with that admission.

His mom sipped her wine. “Don’t rush and do anything you’ll regret. Maybe things will pick up. Maybe it’s a phase.”

His mom’s second favorite word. “It’s not,” he said, quietly but firmly. “It never has been. I hate law, and I love men. If we are ever going to have a relationship, you need to accept that. Accept me.”

His mom twisted her wine glass, staring at the long-cold food on the table. “Pastor Geoff said he saw you with someone. Was it your . . . fiancé?”

Caleb stopped eating, his gaze ping-ponging between them.

“His name is Lloyd.”

The hurt that creased her face was palpable. Wesley tensed, preparing for the barrage of pleas to consider whether a guy was worth breaking their family over.

Caleb cut over her. “I landed a part in the musical accompaniment of a huge production.”

Mom shifted her focus to Caleb. “Is your flute the reason you’ve been failing to show up to class?”

“Yes. But Wes has been helping—”

“It’s great that you like to play, Caleb, but music doesn’t make money.”

Five minutes at home and already Wesley felt like a teenager. Frustrated and angry, he wished Mom would open her eyes. “You should have heard him play, Mom,” Wesley said. “He was incredible. Beyond talented. I think he has the passion to make it.”

Caleb’s throat jutted as he swallowed, a sheen coating his eyes. “Think so?”

“Hell yeah, I hated dragging you out of that auditorium. I mean, I’d do it all over again, but I wish I didn’t have to.”

“If I didn’t say it, thank you. For dropping me off at school. For all the nights you risk your RA’s wrath.”

They smirked at each other. “We should do something for Lloyd to say thanks,” Caleb said.

The idea warmed Wesley, and a cheeky thought compounded his good feelings. “Help me wrangle a few key details from him, and we’ll throw a surprise party.”

“I want to meet him,” Mom said quietly.

Wesley swung his head in her direction. She’d slumped into her chair, cradling her glass.

“I want to understand why this gaying is so important to you, Wesley.” She looked at Caleb. “I know you’re not running away because of my feelings about your music. You’re doing it because you miss your brother.”

Caleb shifted on his seat. “I’m doing it because you miss him too.”

Tears prickled Wesley’s eyes.

Caleb stood up. “I gotta . . . allergies.” He fled from the room.

A plea strained her voice. “Let me meet your fiancé?”

* * *

That might have been the best time to admit that there wasn’t a fiancé.

But Wesley hadn’t wanted to ruin the tender, emotional moment.

Which was why he should tell Lloyd his predicament.

He handed Caleb his dorm key and bounded out of the car at a ten-minute walk from Lloyd’s house.

It was approaching midnight by the time he padded over Lloyd’s lawn. He cursed under his breath when he remembered he’d left his phone in MacDonald’s car.

Remembering that Lloyd had mentioned the view from his desk overlooking the street, Wesley hunted for bits of gravel and tossed them against Lloyd’s upstairs window. It clinked and clattered, and he grinned. He’d always wanted to do this.

Someone cleared their throat, and Wesley jerked toward Lloyd, shuffling across the grass in slippers and a robe. Lloyd pointed to the window next to the one Wesley had been pelting. “That’s my room. Mom kindly asks that you move a few feet to your right, or better yet, come inside.”

Wesley cupped his mouth and called out, “Sorry, Cathy!”

“See you in the morning, Wesley!” came a wall-filtered reply.

Wesley headed for the front door. “How does she know I’m staying over?”

“It’s midnight. You’re play-acting Romeo on my front lawn. She’s a smart woman.” Lloyd shut the door behind them, and after removing his shoes and jacket, Wesley followed him upstairs.

“Love the look, by the way,” Wesley whispered, tugging Lloyd’s robe belt. “It’s like a flash-forward into the future. You’re the grumpy old codger who loves telling off kids for making too much noise—oh wait.” Wesley eyed Lloyd up and down by the dim light of the hall. “Maybe it isn’t a flash-forward.”

“You’re right. I won’t be like this in sixty years.”

“What will you be like?”

“Grumpier.”

Lloyd flicked a light on and gestured Wesley inside his surprisingly cluttered childhood room. Shelves lined an entire wall stuffed with books, board games, and more than one Rubik’s cube.

Then there was the bed.

“A twin, Lloyd? We’ll sure be cozy tonight.”

Without looking away from him, Lloyd pulled out a rollaway mattress from under the bed using his foot. “Top or bottom?”

“I’m happy with either,” he said with a leer, “but I’d prefer to bottom.”

Lloyd shut his eyes. “Boy, oh boy.”

Wesley smirked and peeled off his clothes until he was down to his boxers and undershirt. Avoiding eye contact, Lloyd grabbed him a blanket, then unrobed to a similar state of undress and flicked off the light. “I assume you didn’t come here to sleep.”

“Not quite the proposition I imagined from you, Lloyd.”

A pillow smacked Wesley in the face. He laughed as he settled onto the rollaway and stuffed Lloyd’s pillow under his head.

Glow-in-the-dark stars covered the ceiling, possibly arranged in constellations. “Guess I’m not the only one obsessed with stars.”

Lloyd rolled onto his side and peered down at Wesley. “Why are you here at midnight?”

“Hoping you might sleep-divulge your date of birth?”

“Wesley.”

“I told my mom I’m quitting college once I get my undergrad.”

“Because of our conversation?”

“It didn’t come out of thin air.”

“How did you feel when you said it?”

“Guilty, then relieved. Now nervous.” Wesley bit his lip. “As my RA, do you think I’m doing the right thing?”

At the mention of RA, Lloyd folded back an inch. “Let’s arrange a date and work through some options for you.”

“I’m not good at making decisions. I’m inconsistent and terribly indecisive.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“I’m pretty screwbally.”

“Yet I like you all the same.”

Wesley sighed. “I’m thrilled to hear you say that, because I might have told my mom you’d come for dinner on Christmas Eve. As my fiancé?”

Silence.

Wesley’s heart thumped as he tried to read Lloyd’s expression in the dark. “Please?”

Finally, Lloyd grunted and rolled out of sight on his bed. “The things I do for you.”