DEREK

“So I have to tell you something.” I wasn’t in the mood to put it off. I’d waited until our beers arrived, and that was long enough.

“Okay.” Gage looked at me a little funny.

“I’m in love with someone.”

His jaw dropped. “Seriously? That’s great, man. Who is she?”

I shook my head, closed my eyes, and braced myself. When I opened them again, I spoke the truth. “It’s not a she, it’s a he. It’s Maxim.”

I’d thought it would nauseate me. I’d thought it would feel wrong. I’d thought it would be the hardest thing I’d ever done. But it wasn’t. Actually, the truth had skated pretty easily off my tongue.

Gage squinted at me like he might have heard wrong, mouth agape. “What?”

“It’s Maxim,” I said, my confidence growing. Fuck, this felt good. How had I not guessed how good this would feel? “I’m in love with Maxim.”

“Goddammit!” He closed his eyes and pressed his lips together. “Do you know what this means? I lost the bet.”

“The bet?”

“Yeah.” Gage took a long swallow of his beer. “Lanie bet me after that night at your house, when we all had dinner, that you guys had a thing. I didn’t see it at all.”

I blinked in surprise. “Fuck. Really? Carolyn said the same thing.”

Gage nearly choked on his beer. “Are you kidding me? How am I so dense?”

“Don’t feel bad. I worked really hard not to let it show. I worked really hard not to feel it at all.”

“Did you?” He looked at me sympathetically. “That’s got to be hard.”

“Yeah.” I shook my head. “But it didn’t work. I still feel it.”

“Does he?”

“He did a couple weeks ago. But I fucked it up.”

“How?”

“I told him we had to stay a secret. It hurt him.”

“I get it. That would hurt.”

It felt like he punched me. “Yeah. But I wasn’t ready to accept it yet—the fact that I wanted to be with a guy.”

Gage thought for a moment, took another drink. “Have you always felt like that? Attracted to guys?”

The back of my neck got hot. “Sort of. From the time I was young, I had the occasional feeling for someone. But I was always able to ignore it.”

His expression turned guilty. “I feel kind of bad that I never knew or guessed this about you. We’ve been best friends forever.”

“Don’t feel bad. I did everything I could to hide it. And I liked girls too. It wasn’t really that big of an issue.”

“I was just going to ask that. If you’d been faking it with women.”

“Not necessarily. But it’s been a really long time since I’ve had good chemistry with a woman. And I’ve never had chemistry with anyone like I do with Maxim.”

“Wow. So what now?”

I took a deep breath. “Now I try to figure out where to go from here, I guess. How to be honest about my feelings. How to accept this about myself. How to convince Maxim to give me another chance.”

“Tell me what to do to help you,” he said seriously, setting his beer bottle down. “Lanie and I will do everything we can.”

“Can I bring a guest to the birthday party Sunday?”

He grinned. “Absolutely.”

* * *

I was tempted to go right from there to The Blind Pig, but I didn’t want to say what I had to say to Maxim in public. I texted my sister.

Need to talk. Can you meet me for breakfast tomorrow?

She replied within ten minutes. Sure!

We set the time and place, and I drove home, feeling hopeful for the first time in weeks. I’d done it—I’d told the truth about myself to someone, and he’d been supportive.

I could breathe.

* * *

“So what’s up?” Ellen pulled her hair into a ponytail, then picked up her coffee cup.

My stomach was jittery. Telling Gage had felt easier, for some reason. I opened my mouth to speak, closed it, took a sip of coffee, fussed with my napkin in my lap. “I have to tell you something, but it’s difficult to say.”

“Let me help. You and Maxim.”

I stared at her. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

She rolled her eyes. “Because I’m your sister and sisters know everything. But really, anyone with two eyes and half a brain could have guessed it.”

“Really?”

“Really. You weren’t fooling anyone. Not very well, anyway.”

“Huh.” I scratched my head.

“But I get why you tried to. This isn’t easy for you.”

“No.” I frowned. “It isn’t. And Mom and Dad—”

“Are not part of this. These are your feelings and you have to own them. I know what Mom and Dad think, but if they love you, and they do, they will want you to be happy.”

“They might never accept this, or him.”

She shrugged. “Then it will be their loss. Maxim is amazing.”

“He is.”

“So give them a chance to accept it. This is a big change, and it might take some getting used to. But it’s okay.” She leaned forward and ruffled my hair. “You’re okay.”

“Stop it.” Laughing, I pushed her hand away and tried to fix my hair.

She grinned and sat back, picking up her coffee cup again. “Have you talked to Maxim yet?”

“No. Is he working tonight?”

“He’s supposed to.”

“Maybe I can catch him before he goes in. I don’t really want to do it in public.”

“Isn’t that the point?”

I frowned. “Yes and no. He’s still Russian. Just because he wants to be open about the relationship doesn’t mean he’d be comfortable with a big scene at work.”

“True. But I still think you should talk to him as soon as possible. He’s been really sad about this.”

My heart squeezed. “He’s talked about it?”

“Not much. But I’m good at reading people. Don’t drag this out. You guys deserve to be happy, and life is short.”

“You’re right. I don’t want to live this way anymore. I suddenly feel like I’ve wasted so much time pretending to be someone else.”

“Does your real self still have the thing about paper napkins?”

I glared at her. “Yes.”

She laughed. “Good. You can’t totally take away my big brother. I kind of like him.”

“Thanks. Hey, can he have tomorrow off? I want to bring him to Gage’s son’s birthday party.”

She smiled back. “That’s a great idea. Absolutely.”

* * *

After breakfast, I went to the mall to pick out a gift for Will. I roamed the aisles of the toy store aimlessly, trying to think of what a six-year-old boy would like, but coming up empty. When I noticed a kid who looked about that age standing with his father in the Lego section, I decided to ask for advice.

“Excuse me. I have to buy a present for someone who’s turning six. Can you maybe point me in the right direction?”

“Oh, I bet Mason can. He’s six, too.” The guy ruffled his son’s hair. “Which one do you like best, Mase?”

“This one.” He pointed to a box with a big Lego helicopter on it.

“We did like that one,” his father agreed, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Perfect. Sold.” I took the box off the shelf and tucked it under my arm.

“There you are.” Another man holding a shopping bag and the hand of a little girl maybe two or three years old walked toward us. “We thought we lost you. We’re all set.”

“Mason wanted to look at the Legos,” explained the man in the glasses.

“Dad, can I get one please?” the kid asked the guy holding the hand of the girl.

“No,” the men answered together.

“Let’s go.” The guy with the glasses smiled at me. “Have a good one.”

I nodded and watched in awe as the perfect little family walked away from me.

Ellen would have called it fate. Maxim might have called it a sign from the universe. A month ago, I’d have rolled my eyes and called it a coincidence. Today, I saw it as something more—proof.

With love, anything was possible.