Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
There was no holding it in any longer. I released his hand so I could wrap my arms around him in a tight hug. The need to hold Byron, to absorb some of his pain, was nearly choking me. There was nothing else I could do. There was no way I could go back in time and help teenage Byron dealing with these big issues. All I could do was hold him now.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled into his hair. “So fucking sorry. I wish there was something I could do, but I know there’s nothing and it sucks. It’s not fair that you had to go through this alone.”
Byron’s arms closed on my waist and squeezed me. “It’s enough that you’re holding me now. But there is one problem.”
“What?”
“It’s like a hundred degrees outside and you’re a walking furnace, making it twice at hot,” Byron said against my chest. A hint of laughter played among his words, and I released him to find him smiling—genuinely smiling—up at me.
I winked at him as I moved away. “Sorry. All my sexiness is prone to creating lots of heat.”
He nodded. “I came to realize that when I was lying in bed with you.”
We simply stared at each other for several seconds, grinning like idiots. There was still a shadow of weariness in his eyes, but his smile seemed to wipe away years of worry from his handsome face.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying that I’m really impressed with how you continue to care for your mother despite how she treats you. I don’t think I could have done it. Spending all your time and money on her only to have her call you names and treat you like shit. I would have said fuck it all years ago. Left her to deal with shit on her own.”
Byron winced and rubbed the nape of his sweaty neck. “Please don’t turn me into a saint. I’m not. There were plenty of times that I wanted to do that, but my dad would be disappointed in me if I abandoned her. Plus, even if I hate her a bit, she’s still my mom. She took care of me when I was little. I should at least take care of her now.” He quickly raised his hand as if he knew I had a few choice words about those thoughts. “I know. Probably not my sanest thoughts, but that’s how I feel. I don’t ask that you agree with it or even understand. Just respect my wishes.”
I snatched his hand and pressed a kiss to the palm. “Okay. That’s fair.”
He relaxed and even let out a harsh bark of laughter. “But that whole God and the gays bullshit. I don’t even know where she got that. Growing up, my family was never religious. There was no talk of God and the devil. No one said grace at meals. Never went to church. But as soon as she learned I was gay, it was all this evil, devil, turned-my-back-on-God stuff.” He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes on me slightly. “Did your parents have any trouble accepting you?”
My face scrunched up at the memory. “They weren’t against it. They were more like…confused. I figured out I was gay in high school, but didn’t tell them until I was about to start college. They thought I didn’t date in high school because I was busy with classes, clubs, and sports. No, I was just fucking around with guys on the sly and didn’t bring anyone home. They assumed I was straight and couldn’t figure out how I ended up gay. It took a couple of years for their brains to accept that I was born that way. It wasn’t because of some book I read, some movie I watched, or because I was fucking inoculated as a child. But from the moment I came out, they treated me exactly the same as my straight sister.”
Byron sighed. “That sounds nice.” But the smile that had lingered on his lips crumbled before my eyes and he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “The difference between our families is frightening. There’s a part of me that can’t believe you’re still sitting here after seeing and hearing what a horror show my life is. I mean, I’ve met your dad in the office, and he’s totally put together and brilliant. Your mom is fucking amazing. By contrast, there’s my family—”
“Don’t,” I cut him off with a single sharp word. “Please, don’t. It’s not right to compare our families. Your family has been through hell. While I might not be a fan of your mom, I recognize she has suffered a lot. She lost both a husband, and a son in the prime of his life. Besides, you’ve only seen the pretty, public image of my family. There was a long period while I was in college that my family almost didn’t make it.”