I braced myself for what Grey was going to say.

He couldn’t be dating someone else, could he? Or, God, what if he was embarrassed to be seen with me? I didn’t have too good a read of the general populace of Fox Hollow yet, but who knows, maybe they hated me, the newbie in town, and I just couldn’t tell.

I swallowed, waiting for him to speak.

“So…” he said, lowering his voice so much that it was almost inaudible. “Um. My mom… doesn’t know I’m into guys.”

A wave of both relief and sadness washed over me.

“Oh,” I said, sitting back in my seat slightly and eyeing Grey closely. “Why not?”

“I don’t know,” he said, suddenly shifting in his seat, looking very uncomfortable. “It just… hasn’t come up, and I don’t think she’d react well to it. And… I just don’t want her to hear about it secondhand from Mary-Ann, for God’s sake.”

“Okay,” I said, the puzzle pieces falling into place in my head. “So, did your mom not know about you and your ex?”

“Bryce? Oh, God no,” he said, furrowing his brow. “Bryce and I… it was short-lived, and he kind of didn’t want anyone to know. He was the first guy I’d ever been with, and being with him helped me confirm that I am definitely bisexual, but it wasn’t the best relationship.”

“I see.”

“So my mom only ever met my ex Tara… who she loved, and adored, and couldn’t get enough of. She’d secretly ask me when I was going to propose to Tara, the whole nine yards. My mom has wanted me to have a girlfriend ever since I was old enough.”

I turned my head to one side. “And why’s that?”

Grey shrugged. “The obvious answer would be that she doesn’t want me to be lonely like she is. Wants me to have a lot of kids, because she thinks having only one was a mistake. Wants me to ‘fit in’ to the world.”

I suddenly realized the bittersweet nature of Grey’s relationship with his mom. Clearly he loved her, and was devoted to her, but she didn’t know the real him, and it was obvious how much it affected Grey.

“Okay… well, you know you could do all of that with another guy, too, Grey? Have kids, fit in, be less lonely….”

He took a deep breath and nodded, bringing his hands up to the table and fiddling with the handle on his coffee mug. “I know that. I just don’t know if she does. Or how she’d feel about it.”

“Well, there’s no better way to let her know than to talk to her about it, right?”

He shook his head, looking to the side. “You’d think. But I just know it would crush her to hear. She can be… I don’t know, pretty conservative.”

“My parents were about as conservative as they come, and I let them know as soon as I could that I was gay. But I understand, Grey—it’s your decision what you do or don’t want to tell your mom.” There was no part of me that wanted to try to dictate what Grey should do.

He nodded solemnly, taking a small sip of black coffee. “And… to be honest with you, I don’t know how much longer my mom has.”

“Jesus,” I whispered. “Really?”

He gave a helpless shrug. “I really don’t know. She has so many medical problems. She’s been in and out of the hospital for years, now. I still can’t fucking get her to quit smoking. I feel… pretty powerless about the whole situation.”

“Well I certainly can understand that. I have no clue where I’d be if I hadn’t been able to join the band when I was younger. I don’t even know if my parents would have let me stay in the house once I turned 18.”

“Wow,” Grey said, looking up at me.

“Yeah,” I said, before another long pause. There was a sadness, now, hovering in the space between us, on what had otherwise been such an effortlessly enjoyable day.

“But… I’m so fucking sorry, Adam,” Grey said, lowering his voice a little.

“Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for?”

“The fact that I… that I can’t even be myself in public. I mean, it’s cowardice, isn’t it?”

I shook my head. “You shouldn’t do anything you don’t feel comfortable doing. Period. If you’re not ready to come out to your mom, you’re not ready, and that’s your decision.”

He took a deep breath in, biting his bottom lip, looking beautiful and vulnerable all at once.

My idea of Grey had expanded a lot in the last five or so minutes. I’d had an idea of why he might be so high-strung and anxious—he did have a lot on his plate—but I saw that he also had this, this giant burden of not being able to tell his mother his true feelings. I knew how bad that could feel. It was too much for me to bear, which is why I’d told my parents right away as a teenager, even though I knew they’d freak out.

But Grey was different. I certainly wasn’t going to judge his decision, even if it meant I’d be disappointed I couldn’t do simple things like hold his hand in public. It was good enough being able to touch him in private—it was incredible, actually—and I told myself I didn’t need anything more than that. I didn’t need anything more than what Grey could give me.

We ate our food mostly in silence. It was maybe a little uncomfortable at first, but soon came to be natural. As we ate it almost became peaceful, sitting there with him and watching the lunch crowd inside slowly die down.

When we left there were only a few other people inside the diner, and clouds were forming as we stepped outside.

“Sunshine couldn’t last forever,” Grey said with a small smile, looking up at the darkening clouds as we started the walk home. “Welcome to the Pacific Northwest.”

I shrugged. “I’m fine with overcast skies. I got enough sunshine for a lifetime growing up in the desert.”

“Good point. I don’t know how you dealt with that. Wasn’t it like, super dusty?”

“So dusty, Grey, you have no idea.”

He laughed. “Were there cactuses?”

“Cacti. The plural is cacti. And yeah, there definitely were. There certainly weren’t any gorgeous big green trees like there are here.”

“Dang, you really fuckin’ love it here, don’t you?” Grey said.

“It’s great, what can I say?”

“You make it sound way better than it really is.”

“Well, I moved to Fox Hollow and ended up with an incredibly cool, shockingly attractive next-door neighbor, so hey, I can’t complain. It’s not all just about the scenery, you know.” I gave him a little playful shove and he returned it, laughing on the otherwise empty street. I finally felt like I was with the Grey I’d come to know again. The sad, withdrawn version of him I’d seen in the restaurant had thrown me a little, but I finally felt like he was showing his true self again.

The gravel crunched under our feet as we walked home, slow and languid.

“I had a lot of fun the other night,” Grey finally said out of nowhere, turning to look at me.

“I really did too,” I said.

“You should—uh,” Grey started to say, then paused. After a second I stopped walking too, turning back to look at him. We were only a block away from our street.

“What’s up?” I asked.

A slight pink blush appeared on his cheeks, and he squinted up at me. “I was gonna say you could come over. That is—if you’re not doing anything else tonight.” He bit his bottom lip.

I smiled a little. “I’m not,” I said.

He scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, I really don’t have much in the form of entertainment. But I have cheap beer and lots of movies to watch, and a dog that you already know loves you.”

I laughed at that. “That sounds perfect. I’d love to come over. And you don’t have to worry about entertaining me, either. I like being around you, Grey. It’s enough.”

He smiled, so bashful but somehow so perfect, and we kept on walking.

“Of course,” he said, “there’s also always that romance novel that you were enjoying so much earlier at my house,” he said, his voice teasing.

“Yup. I’ll admit it freely. I did love it, and I’m not afraid to say it.”

When we got back to his house I spent a good few minutes on the floor, petting Chewy and letting her get her energy out, before plopping down on Grey’s couch.

“This is so luxurious,” I said, “I don’t even have a couch yet. It’s just my bed in the room.”

“Clearly I live a lavish life,” Grey said. He paused for a moment, eyeing me, and then seemed to come to a decision, coming to sit right next to me on the couch. He brought his hand to mine, lacing our fingers together, and gently brought the back of my hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to it.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do this in public,” he said, low and gentle. I couldn’t look away from his eyes, and couldn’t begin to fathom how much I wanted him.

I shook my head gently. “Worth the wait,” I said, my voice soft. He brought his other hand to my cheek, tracing his fingertips against my jaw, and then leaned in toward me. He kissed me, just as soft and sweet against my lips as he’d been on the back of my hand. He tasted like coffee and a hint of maple syrup, sweet and earthy. I kissed him back, slow and unhurried, in the peaceful silence of his living room.

When he broke away he kept his hand in mine, and rested his head on my shoulder, with a long exhale.

“I can’t believe I get to do this with you,” he said.

“Hm?”

“Just… you know. You’re famous and incredible, and I’m just a kid from a small town who hasn’t done much yet.”

“Quit saying stuff like that. You do a lot, Grey. You’re impressive in your own right.”

We sat like that for a while, his hand in mine, and I stroked the back of his palm with my thumb. I didn’t feel any pressure to take it further, just enjoying the simple touch and proximity to him, bathed in the soft pale light coming through the window.

Eventually he went over to the bookshelf and selected at least ten different DVDs, laying them all out on the floor in front of me. He described each one, with the intention of trying to get me to choose one, but he ended up picking his favorite.

He put on the old black and white movie that I never quite caught the name of. It consisted of a heroine who’d been scorned by her ex-lover, and her journey to finding second chance love with her high school sweetheart. While we watched, occasionally I stole glances at Grey, catching him rapt with attention, his eyes full and wide during the dramatic sweeps. He loved it, and seemed transfixed by every minute of it, even though I was fully aware he’d probably watched the movie countless times.

As we watched I dragged my hand against his back, massaging him in a much less intense way than I had the other night. I just wanted to feel him against me, and make him feel good. There wasn’t much else I would have asked for in that moment.

The afternoon pressed on and by the end of the movie Grey had fallen asleep against me. Seeing him there made my heart swell, and I let him sleep as I picked up the romance novel again, reading it while he breathed lightly against me on the couch.

Once, as I turned a page in the novel, he stirred slightly in his sleep and I saw a tiny smile playing on his face. He was still clearly asleep, but I heard him mumble, as if in a dream: “…make me so happy.”

* * *

In the evening Grey informed me that he could cook a “mean little pasta dish,” and he did, a great one with cream and corn and basil, and we ate in his kitchen, going over the finer points of the romance novel I was now thoroughly engrossed in.

I helped him clean up afterward, and as I handed him the last dish to dry I watched him, realizing how much I was enjoying this quiet, simple night. Even just cleaning up with Grey felt somehow better, like anything could be improved if I just did it by his side.

He put the final dish onto the shelf and then turned to me with a small smile.

“Well, we’ve reached the time of night when I’d usually go out in the back yard,” he said.

I nodded. “And when I’d see you from my kitchen.”

He laughed a little, his lashes pointed toward the floor. “Let’s go take Chewy for a walk?” he said. “Unless you need to get home….”

“You know I’d rather spend time with you and Chewy than go back to my empty house,” I said, already making my way toward the door where I knew Chewy’s leash was hanging. As I was reaching to grab it, I felt Grey’s hands slide over the small of my back, trailing along my sides until he had embraced me fully from behind.

I stopped for a moment, closing my eyes and leaning back into his arms. “Mmm,” I mumbled, “That feels nice.”

“It does,” he said, then pressed a kiss to the back of my neck. His hands reached just slightly under the hem of my shirt, his fingers dragging lightly over my hips. “I’m having such a stupidly good night. And honestly I’m kind of amazed that’s even possible, after the news I got about Freezy Sweet earlier.”

I nodded then turned slowly in his arms, inching around to face him. I put my hand to the side of his face, just stroking him there for a moment, marveling at how clear and relaxed his gaze was, like he was finally comfortable with showing me the real him.

“Your eyes are beautiful, you know,” I said softly, bringing my hand to the back of his neck.

A faint pink streak appeared across his cheeks. “Aw, shucks, Adam,” he said. “Keep giving me those compliments and you might just get lucky.”

I laughed quietly. “Don’t care if I do or not, I’m just happy to be hanging with you.”

I bent and pressed my lips to his, unhurried, just wanting to feel him against me, so soft and close. I felt like I could spend forever there, just kissing him, his tongue just lightly brushing into my mouth. I was centered. Completely content.

And if it weren’t for Chewy making a little whining sound and scratching at the door to leave, I would have been fine just staying there in Grey’s arms indefinitely.

* * *

We started down the block, Chewy on the leash ahead of us sniffing out patches of grass.

The sun had dipped below the trees, casting everything in a cool darkness, but the light foggy mist covered everything in a hazy blanket. Everything still felt alive, like the evening was just waking up. Mist moved in calm waves near the glow of each streetlamp.

“This place is like a damn fairy tale,” I said. “I mean, do you hear that?” The sound of the night had just begun to awaken: crickets, the occasional frog, and I swore, even an owl.

As we walked, the only other sound was the soft jangle of metal on Chewy’s collar as she ran ahead of us.

“You see that building coming up on the left?” Grey said, pointing forward. “That was where I went to elementary school. You think I’m nerdy now, you should have seen me back then.”

“Oh yeah? You were nerdy? I would never have guessed,” I joked, giving him a side-glance.

“Hey!” he said, giving me a slap on the shoulder. “You’re the one who said you love reading fantasy novels, aren’t you?”

“I love them, and I’m not at all afraid to admit it.”

“Doesn’t surprise me.”

“What?”

“That you’re not afraid to admit it. I mean… you’re confident about pretty much everything, it seems like. I envy that.”

I turned that thought over in my head a little. “I wasn’t always like that,” I said, after a moment. We rounded a corner and kept walking down a block that was lined with even more evergreens than our own street.

“Really? It’s hard to imagine you not being confident. It seems like you were even in the 5*Star days.”

I considered that, trying to remember how I’d even felt back then. “It took effort. I really had to try not to care what people thought of me. I mean, back then there weren’t any major boy bands with an openly gay member. Some TV shows we were on didn’t even want me to bring it up.”

“God, really?” Grey said.

I nodded. “So, yeah. It was either be confident, or feel horrible all the time. And even though it was scary as hell, I chose to try to be confident. And after a while it sort of… became real. At this point in my life I really can say I like myself. I wouldn’t change anything about me.”

Grey slowed to a stop, looking at me, and then slowly started to walk again. “Wow,” he said. “That is… a really admirable thing.”

“Don’t tell me you’d wanna change things about yourself?” I asked him. I glanced around, ensuring that nobody else was on the block, then cautiously put my hand in his, lightly holding his free hand as we walked down the sidewalk. He seemed hesitant at first but then gave a firmer grasp.

“Is it bad if I said I would? I would want to change a lot of things about myself, I think,” he said, his voice low.

“I can’t think of a single reason why,” I said.

“Would have been better if I’d tried harder to make college happen. If I could have a more positive outlook. Be more responsible. If I wasn’t so damn afraid of my mom seeing me with a guy.”

“Wait a minute—more responsible? You’re one of the most responsible people I’ve met.”

“I try,” he said flatly, “but it never feels like enough.”

I took in a breath, pausing a moment, unsure of what to say. I thought of him earlier, sleeping on me, the tension completely drained from his face.

“You know you talk in your sleep?” I said.

“What?” he said, loud enough to send a flock of birds flying up into a nearby tree. “I do not.”

“You super do,” I said, grinning. “You whispered sweet nothings to me earlier, actually.”

“Holy fuck,” he said, and I couldn’t see for sure in the dim evening light but I swore he must be blushing. “I’m not sure if I even want to know what I said.”

“It was goddamn adorable, I’ll tell you that much,” I said.

“Okay, fine, what did I say?”

“…It was something along the lines of ‘you make me happy.’”

I turned to Grey as we walked, and saw a tiny smile on his lips. “Hey, at least I was being honest,” he said, eyes pointed ahead. I couldn’t even begin to describe how hearing that made me feel. Why was I so hung up on the fact that Grey liked me? It was like a grade-school crush, totally and completely. I had butterflies just hearing that he “liked” me, even though we’d already had sex.

It was so odd and strange and beautiful, but I was loving every minute of it.

There was a lull as we walked briefly into a local park, letting Chewy roam around and sniff out the place. The orange glow from the windows of nearby houses was singularly comforting, idyllic, and I felt like the small-town street could have been straight out of a movie.

“See that house, with the big front deck?” Grey asked.

I nodded.

“A kid who used to bully me incessantly lived there. I can never walk down this street without thinking about it.”

Thinking of anyone bullying Grey made my blood boil, but I kept my voice neutral.

“Is he still there?”

“God, no,” Grey said, furrowing his brow as we continued down the street. “He works on Wall Street now, last I heard.”

As we approached the front of the house, I stopped right in front of it on the sidewalk. The dim glow of a streetlamp illuminated Grey in front of me as he stopped too, turning to look at me strangely.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“This is the house? It always reminds you of the bully?”

He nodded.

I reached to grab his wrist, gently pulling him toward me. I pressed my lips against his. My body was touching the front of his, creating a warmth between us in the night air. I kissed him hungrily before pulling back, gently worrying his bottom lip with my teeth and then releasing. I buried my hand in his hair.

“Now you can have a new memory of this spot,” I said, bending to kiss against his neck.

He moaned softly, and it turned into a desperate laugh. “Adam,” he said, stroking his hand through my hair. “C’mon. There could be kids walking down this street.”

“There’s nobody out here,” I murmured against him, but I pulled back. “Forget that fucking bully,” I said, giving his cheek one last stroke. “Think of me instead.”

He smiled up at me, eyes full and bright. “I will.”