Chapter Twenty-Three
Riley grinned as Charlie opened the front door to let him and Brent in, wrapping his younger brother in a hug and backing them both into the hallway so Brent could close the door behind him.
As she always did, Kayla came racing into the hall to greet Riley, but paused when she saw Brent next to him.
She’d never met Brent before. New people were understandably scary.
Brent crouched down in front of her, bringing himself down to her level. “Hey, honey,” he offered his hand. “I’m Riley’s friend, Brent.”
“Brent,” Kayla said, taking a step toward Brent’s outstretched hand, and then bypassing it to run at him, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Brent laughed such a warm, happy laugh that Riley’s heart soared. He hadn’t seen Brent this happy in a long time.
“You must be Kayla,” Brent said, wrapping his arms around her and groaning as he lifted her up.
Owen automatically moved forward, ever the protective father, but Riley only had to touch his arm to get him to calm down.
Brent knew how to handle children, and Kayla was making him grin ear to ear. Riley wanted him to have that, even if it was only for a few moments.
“I’m so excited to meet you,” Brent continued. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
Kayla giggled at that, happy to have the attention.
Chewie nudged Riley’s hand, licking it eagerly until Riley gave in and petted his head. He’d grown up fast, no longer the tiny puppy Riley had first met. Just as playful, though.
Being surrounded by his family—extended and otherwise—soothed his soul.
Maybe it was time to move back home. Maybe he was done wandering now.
He’d spent the last week curling up with Brent of a night, and he never wanted that to end. They hadn’t had sex again since the desperate, clingy handjob in the RV, but just being near Brent was so good that Riley didn’t care if they never had sex again.
He would have strongly preferred that they did, but it wasn’t a dealbreaker or anything.
“I hate to take her away from you, but she needs to wash up,” Jude said, holding his arms out for Kayla.
A brief flash of disappointment showed on Brent’s face, but he handed Kayla over without argument.
“Wanna sit next to Brent,” Kayla said as Jude settled her weight against his body.
“You can totally sit next to me,” Brent said, his good humor returning immediately. “But you gotta wash your hands or you’ll get sick.”
Riley didn’t remember washing his hands a whole lot as a kid, but maybe he had. Either way, he hadn’t gotten sick a whole lot.
Jude was being careful with Kayla, and Riley understood that.
“Hey,” Scott poked his head into the hallway, making the whole space crowded even as Jude disappeared with Kayla. “I think I’m the only other person here who hasn’t met you.”
Brent offered his hand immediately. “Brent,” he said. “I’m Riley’s…”
They hadn’t talked about whether or not anything had changed between them. Riley had been afraid to ask, afraid to break the fragile thing between them by trying to slap a label on it.
Scott grinned, apparently taking that as a full sentence. “I’m Charlie’s,” he responded, beaming brightly as he did so.
Scott loved Charlie. It was obvious every time he mentioned him or looked at him or was even in the same room as him. Seeing them grow closer, watching them fall in love felt good. So good that Riley was only the tiniest bit jealous of what they had.
And what Owen and Jude had.
“Is that a tattoo?” Riley asked, nodding to a tiny spot of ink he could see peeking out from Scott’s rolled-up sleeve.
Scott blushed darkly, rolling the sleeve a little further up to reveal a black paw print. “It’s, uh. It’s to match Charlie’s. He didn’t tell me that the healing process is gross.”
“It wouldn’t have been nearly as gross if you moisturized properly like I told you,” Charlie said, his tone suggesting that this wasn’t the first time they’d had this discussion.
“So you guys have matching tattoos now?” Riley raised an eyebrow.
Charlie grinned at him. “We’re disgusting.”
“You are actually disgusting,” Riley agreed. “I’m offended by how in love you are.”
“Jude wants matching tattoos,” Owen said. “So I’m never, ever forgiving either of them.”
Riley chuckled at that. Of course Jude wanted matching tattoos. Jude had been in love with Owen since they were in grade school.
Riley had been able to tell since the moment he’d met him, because he’d been in love with Brent. Even before he really understood what love was.
“But you’re gonna get the tattoo, right?” Riley asked.
Owen was in love with Jude, too. Owen would have done anything for Jude.
“Obviously. We’re in negotiations about designs, but it does help to be married to an award-winning illustrator.”
Owen hadn’t shut up about the award Jude won last year since it happened. He was so proud of him.
Riley was maybe more than a little jealous of them. He didn’t begrudge his brothers their happiness at all, but he wished he could have the same thing.
And no one but Brent would be good enough.
They weren’t there yet. Not by a long shot.
But Riley was starting to let himself hope that they could be, one day. Someday when he’d worked up the courage to be honest, when he’d worked up the courage to stay and risk getting his heart broken.
“All these beautiful young men in my house, and not one of them helping me set the table,” Mrs. Jules said from behind Charlie’s shoulder.
“I’ll do it,” Riley offered. “You guys go relax.”
Before anyone could object, he squeezed his way into the kitchen, striding over to grab plates from the cupboard.
They only just owned enough for everyone, now that Kayla was old enough for her own plate, but that was kind of nice.
“Full house,” Riley commented as he started spreading out the stack of plates. “You’re gonna need a bigger table if I ever settle down.”
“You haven’t told Brent how you feel yet,” Riley’s mom responded without looking over at him. “I wasn’t sure, I thought maybe you’d done it years ago and he’d knocked you back. But you just never did, did you? I can see something’s changed.”
Riley blinked at her, his pulse pounding in his ears. “Could we lower this to a whisper?” he murmured.
He didn’t need Brent walking in and overhearing them right now.
How did his mom know?
Well.
That was a silly question. She didn’t need to be told to know. She could just know.
“You should tell him,” she continued, not lowering her voice at all.
No one was going to hear them from the living room. This house had old, thick walls, and sound didn’t really travel much.
That knowledge didn’t stop Riley from panicking a little.
“Mom,” Riley objected, not wanting to have this conversation right now.
“You almost lost him last weekend. You got lucky, and you should take the warning that Brent won’t wait for you forever. It’s time to come home, Riley. You don’t have to run anymore.”
Riley swallowed. His mother knew him too well, better than anyone. What everyone else saw as him being brave and carefree, she understood as a little boy running away from home.
He’d never grown up past that. Running had become his routine, had become comfortable. It was only now that it was wearing on him. His whole family had moved on, settled into their lives, and he felt as though he was out in the cold these days.
Not that he was. He knew he’d always have them.
But they were all starting their own families. Soon enough, he’d be weird uncle Riley for real, alone and bitter about it.
That was scary, but he wasn’t sure if it was scarier than the thought of losing Brent forever.
Even though all signs pointed to there being a chance between the two of them.
“You’re right,” Riley admitted before he’d fully come to the conclusion himself.
“I’m always right,” Mrs. Jules said. “What do you have to lose?”
Riley wet his lips.
Nothing.
He had nothing to lose. Nothing except the awkward, not entirely fulfilling relationship he had with Brent right now. If he never spoke up, he’d only ever have half of what he wanted. After long enough of that, he’d start to resent Brent for that. He’d start to resent himself.
All of which could be avoided by manning up and talking about his feelings.
“I’ll talk to him,” Riley promised. “But after lunch. I want him to feel safe if we’re gonna talk about something like this.”
Mrs. Jules sighed a soft, fondly exasperated sigh. “You care so much about him. He’d better be good to you.”
“Brent would be good to anyone,” Riley said. “He’s been more than good to me. I’d be lucky to have him.”
“And he’d be lucky to have you,” his mom pointed out. “Don’t forget that. You’re a good boy, Riley. You deserve to be happy.”
Riley nodded slowly, taking that in. He always marveled at the fact that his mom wasn’t mad at him for leaving, or staying away. That she was ready to welcome him back with open arms, that she always made enough food for him to drop in any Sunday.
If Brent would have him, Riley would be happy to come home.