“I can’t do this, Jason,” I whisper to my brother as we stand inside the entrance to Trip and Sam’s house.

“Justin, it’s fine,” he responds, his tone calm.

Patrick, Jason’s still-secret boyfriend, comes up on my other side. “This is hard, no doubt about it. But let’s go to the table in the spirit of community the Goodnight family intended. That okay?”

Grateful for the man who will almost certainly be my brother-in-law at some point, I nod.

Realizing we’re awkwardly stuck at the entrance, we make our way through the living room to the dining area. Sam and Trip mentioned that they’ll be opening up the space, and in the meantime, they’re using one long table with two shorter tables to create a u-shaped eating area in the confined space. The concept makes it possible for all of us to see each other, which is great…except it also makes it impossible for me to avoid seeing Charlie Wills.

That’s okay, I can do this.

The reality is I’ve been given an opportunity to be a part of this family, even after everything I’ve done. For fuck’s sake, Justin. Suck it up and find a little gratitude.

Just as I take a big breath, Desi and Sam hurry over, each giving Jason a huge hug. Sam is the slightly taller, more femme of the two, and he’s barefoot, wearing some kind of gauzy turquoise shirt unbuttoned over a tank top, paired with stylish jeans.

Desi, on the other hand, has Trip’s same gorgeous blue eyes, striking against the swath of vitiligo that whites out a brow and a section of his hairline. His style is a bit more understated but luxurious compared to my Doc Martens, cuffed jeans, and simple gray T-shirt.

A couple of weeks ago in the supply store, Desi mentioned something about highlighting my trimmer physique rather than trying to hide it with baggy clothes and hoodies. Right now, he gives me an approving up-down before coming in for a hug.

I’m not expecting it, but Sam hugs me too, and I’m unsure how to process it. Shame and affection go toe-to-toe with each other in my chest, and I can’t help but go back to the day I went after him and Desi in a fit of self-hatred. They were so pretty and free, nothing like I could have ever been growing up. God, it enraged me.

What’s funny is how often I forget that Sam, seeing the score, got the drop on me. He threw a glass of water in my face and then sucker-punched me—which I totally deserved.

Despite that, I think Sam understands me more than most. His family tried to put him in a conversion camp. According to town gossip, he ran away, supporting himself with sex work. He doesn’t know that I know. He also doesn’t know he’s one of the bravest guys I’ve ever met. His genuine affection challenges me to set a higher standard for myself.

In the middle of my meanderings, Desi takes my arm. “These are the new clothes you mentioned, aren’t they?”

Blushing, I dip my head and gesture at him and Sam. “I know it’s not like what y’all wear, but…you don’t think it’s too fitted?”

He gives me another super obvious up-down and shakes his head. “No such thing as too fitted.” Hip-checking me, he continues, “Who knew you had such a nice ass?”

Oof. Now my face must look like a tomato. “Shut up,” I whisper.

Chuckling, he waggles his finger at me. “No, sir. And don’t compare your style to mine or anyone else’s. The great thing about accepting your gayness is that you now know how to accept the rest of you.”

I bite my lip. “Makes sense.”

“Now, if you want to glam it up a bit, I’m happy to help. But even in this super basic boy get-up, you look way more comfortable and stylish than in those hoodies you were swimming in. Look, you even cuffed your jeans and shined your Docs. Also, is that a coordinating belt you’ve highlighted with a French tuck?”

“Maybe,” I answer, grinning…and a little proud of myself.

He hums his approval. “I think we still need to go shopping. We can take this same look and elevate it with a better watch and some layering. Let’s get that on the books, shall we?”

Running my hand over my reliable black Casio, I nod. He sends me a wink then he and Sam go back to setting the table.

My brother and I share an overwhelmed look as we walk through the living room.

“Let’s try not to cry before we actually get to the table,” I mutter.

Jason surprises me with a laugh, and it shakes out the rest of my nerves about coming here. Well…at least until I see Charlie standing by the passthrough, chatting with Trip’s dad. I rub my hands on my thighs, wishing my palms would get the message that I’m trying to look put together.

I mean, not for Charlie specifically, but…okay, maybe a little for Charlie.

Wyatt sees me, and his eyes light up. He excuses himself and walks over to me.

“Justin! I’m so glad to see you here. Damn, it’s really nice to see you so strong and healthy,” he says, giving me a huge smile. “You had me worried for a while there, but now look at you. Got some sun, some workin’ hard muscles. I’m really proud of you.”

I swallow hard and will back the tears. Thankfully, he picks up on the fact that I’m hanging on to composure by the barest thread and bows his head, excusing himself.

When he steps aside, Charlie is still standing by the passthrough, looking at me with his head cocked to the side. I swallow again and look to the table, where Desi and Sam gesture to the seat between them.

Okay, I really can do this. I send Charlie a weird little half-wave and then join my new friends.

As it turns out, the dinner is lovely, and everybody likes my potato salad, even Charlie. Sam and Desi keep me laughing and engaged in the conversation. Charlie is quiet, and it’s obvious he’s avoiding contact with me.

Totally fair.

Even if it feels like a knife to the heart.

As we’re wrapping up, I get up and go to the bathroom, needing a little distance from…everything. I let the tears that’ve been building fall, snort-laughing at myself for tearing up with gratitude, of all things.

These little revelations that come from getting sober continue to surprise me. Some of the surprises aren’t so great but finding out you can be overcome with gratitude is one of the good ones.

Not wanting to overstay my break, I splash my face and dry it on the soft hand towels. I walk back into the shadowed hallway and run straight into Charlie.

“Oh, sorry,” I warble out, angling around him, my eyes on the ground.

“Justin,” he says, putting his hand on my arm. “I was hoping I’d run into you back here.”

I freeze at the contact. His voice is as soft as I remember.

“Yes?” I bleat out.

“I never thanked you and your brother for helping me with the fire. I apologize for the oversight. It really meant a lot.”

I snort inelegantly, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Oh God, don’t apologize to me.” My words fly out so fast that I’m sure they sound like one big jumbled word.

That’s okayMore words will solve it. “I mean, God, Charlie. You could run me over with your truck, kick me in the nutsack, and spit in my ear, and you still wouldn’t owe me an apology, so…yeah.”

He shifts next to me, and I’m hyperaware of his strength. I mean, I totally saw it when we were managing the fire hose together, but this is more than just I-can-bench-press-something-something-pounds. I mean…there’s a lightness to him that feels dangerous. Like the way titanium cuts through steel. Pretty sure if he punched me in the throat, I’d die.

Even though I assume he could kill me with his thumbs, I realized during dinner that Charlie has a naturally happy face. He lit up telling a story about hiking near Kuala Lumpur, and I could write poetry about the way his pretty eyes crinkle when he smiles.

Hm. I may have drifted there for a second.

I knew this was a fucking mistake, Charlie mutters under his breath, pushing his way past me. “Never mind, Justin. Just…thank you for your help.”

Fuck. Take the compliment and stop making it about your guilt, you idiot. Also, stop looking at his lips.

“Y-you’re. Uh. Welcome. Charlie,” I say, the words all fucked up in my mouth. “Um. One of the ways Jason and I are trying to rehabilitate ourselves is by being of service to the community. I’m just so sorry we couldn’t save your place.”

He stops and turns back toward me, though he’s looking at the wall instead of me.

“That’s good, Justin. Service is often a healthy part of recovery.”

I nod, stupidly unable to come up with something remotely smart-sounding because…oh right. He’s familiar with recovery because it’s me he’s had to recover from.

He continues, “And even though we couldn’t save the structures, I was able to salvage items that were far more precious to my family than a few buildings. You and your brother preserved those things with your efforts. Don’t lose sight of that.”

“Thank you, Charlie,” I whisper, unable to accept his grace.

He pivots to go, then stops himself again.

“Um, yeah. In addition to thanking you, I needed to talk to you about the fencing.”

Startled, I accidentally look him in the eye. That’s a huge mistake because who has eyes that color? They’re almost silver.

God, he’s stunning.

“Justin?”

Aaaand I’m staring again.

I blink and shake my head, lowering my eyes back to the ground. “Yeah. Of course.”

Number of days without being an absolute embarrassment: zero.

“I’m assuming I should replace the fencing prior to starting the construction, right? For security?”

Oh right. I should be offering information.

“Um, the fencing your parents had was very nice, so if you’re looking at something similar, you don’t want it to get messed up by the construction vehicles. I’d suggest temporary fencing during the construction phase once the property has been cleared. Then we can come in after everything is done and get the prettier fencing installed.”

I side-eye him for a response, and he gives me one sharp nod. “I’m having the remaining buildings dozed, but the earliest availability for that kind of thing is nearly two months out. Then we’ll pour the concrete sometime the week after.”

“Well, um, have your concrete guy call us, and we’ll coordinate. That sound good?”

He toes the dense carpeting with his boot. “Yeah, sure. What do we need to do about payment?”

I shake my head. “If you’re getting the nicer fencing from us like you had before, you don’t pay for anything until the job is done. We put up the temporary fencing for free.”

He furrows his brows. “You sure about that?”

“Of course. Depending on how you go about your rebuild, make sure to talk to Jason about supplies. We give some pretty good discounts for larger projects. I’ll send you a quote for the fencing and my discount code for the store.”

Charlie turns toward the bathroom door, opening it. Looking back over his shoulder, our eyes latch on to one another.

It’s like being shocked with both paddles at full power.

There’s even the little ka-chunk sound in my head.

“Okay, Justin. I’ll be in touch.”

He disappears into the bathroom, and I remember to breathe again. Jason gestures me over from the living room.

“You talking to Charlie?”

“Yeah. We’re going to handle the temporary fencing once they get the property cleaned up, and then we’ll redo the ornate fencing around his property when the rebuild is done.”

“Really? I’m surprised he’s going with us.”

I look back down the empty hallway. “I think it’s the principle of the thing? We helped, so he’s giving us the business.”

Jason rubs his arms. “I’m sure it’s more than that. He sees us trying.”

I grimace. “Yeah…no. The way he looked at me, I think he hates me more now than he ever did.”

Jason shakes his head. “I don’t think he hates people. He’s like a Buddhist or something. They can’t hate people.”

“I have a strong suspicion he’s making an exception for me.”

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