Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Oh.” I had no idea what the correct response was supposed to be, so I kept a wary tone. “How did that go?”
“About how you might expect. Jessica loves me and is proud of me. Dad? Well, I guess he loves me, but he sure didn’t say it when he had the chance. And now we’re not exactly talking.”
“Oh.” I inhaled sharply before forcing a more moderate tone. “I would understand if you don’t want to make things worse by openly being with me.”
“And I wouldn’t.” Knox snapped before gripping my hand tightly and softening his voice. “You can derail that train of thought right there. I no longer care about making things better or worse with him. I care about making things right with you. My dad is my dad, and things will either work out there or not.”
“Yeah.” I hated this for him and hated that I couldn’t fix it even more.
“I’m in love with you, not him. I want a future with you. And if you want one with me, if you love me as much as you say you do, then who cares what my dad or anyone else thinks?”
“You love me?” I made a small startled noise. The night sky blanketed us, but bright light flashed behind my eyes.
“Of course I love you, Monroe.” Knox tugged me closer, putting an arm around my shoulders. “How could I not love you? You gave me a room, but it’s really about space. You give me space. Space to be me. Space to fly. Space to fail.”
“But I don’t want you to fail.” My lips gave an involuntary quirk. “Or us.”
“That’s not what I mean. You let me make my own mistakes.” He kissed me right above the top of my ear. “You trust me.”
“I do.”
“You’re so damn strong, but somehow you love me bossy.”
“Color me surprised too.” I laughed and let my head fall against his shoulder. “I love you.”
“You do.” He made a happy noise before gesturing at the twinkling lights on the balcony. “You give me stars. And I love you.”
“I’d give you a lot more than stars.”
“Thank you.” His shoulders stiffened along with his jaw and arm. “And because I love you and me and us, I’m not gonna offer to go to the Bay. I know that might seem like the right thing to say next, but I’d rather fight for us here, for the future I know we can have.”
“I want that.” I leaned into him. My throat tightened. My Bay Area plan had been a little selfish and certainly didn’t reflect the Knox I knew and loved. “I don’t want to put you in a box, Knox.” That made him laugh so hard that both of our sides shook. “Okay, okay, laugh at my bad rhymes. But I want to put you in a home, not a box.” And then we were both giggling like twelve-year-olds. “Damn it. I’m usually better with words.”
“You are.” Knox nuzzled my jaw. “You want to give me a home?”
“Not give. You are home.” I paused, drunk on his scent and nearness, trying to wrangle my fuzzy thoughts. “This town—what it means to you. That’s you for me. You’re the place I want to return to, over and over. My north star. The thing that makes everything else all right.”
“Aww. There’s the poetry I’m used to.”
“I mean it. You are home. And you already gave me a home. One I hope can be for us both. This home. This house. You made it into a real home, one blue shade after another, art and linens and all your repurposed finds. You made a home, and I’m so sorry it took me way too long to see it.”
“Guess I did make a home.” Knox nodded, giving me his small pleased smile that I loved so much. “And you’re going to keep it?”
“I’m going to keep you.” Wiggling around, I freed an arm so I could cling to his torso. “And the house. And…I’m going to turn it into a low-key queer B&B.”
“You’re gonna what?” Knox made a show of examining my face and patting me all over. “Where’s your robot switch? Can the real Monroe come out, please?”
“I’m serious. It’s too big for just the two of us. I’ve been waiting my whole life to have community, to finally feel like I fit in. I thought I’d need a city if I wanted to live among my people, but what if my people have been right here all along? And what if I could help create that community I want instead of racing toward something premade?”
And that was it exactly. In the Castro in San Francisco, the Village in New York City, or Boystown in Chicago, I could be around plenty of queer people, sure, but they wouldn’t be mine, and I’d still have to work to feel included, to not be an outsider. And that was really it, the realization that I couldn’t simply wait to feel like an insider somewhere. I had to do the work, put myself out there.