Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
The resistance to seeing that his job wasn’t a great fit for him...well, that was a conversation for another time.
“You hungry?” he asked, instead of gathering Zachary in his arms and telling him how much he delighted Bram.
“Yeah, actually. Painting this made me hungry.”
Bram stood and offered Zachary a hand. He pulled him up easily and for a moment he thought Zachary was going to hug him, kiss him, something. But he just steadied himself and cleaned his brushes without comment before donning his clothes once more. Most people looked very different in a suit than they did in their underwear, but Zachary didn’t. His demeanor didn’t change at all.
Bram cooked them pasta with mushrooms and fresh herbs and when he passed Zachary a steaming bowl, Zachary held it for a moment like he was Oliver Twist or something.
“What?”
Zachary shook his head.
“I just don’t remember the last time someone cooked for me.” He paused, then said, “My mom, I guess.”
“Was she a good cook?”
“I don’t know. I always ate it, but...” He shrugged and Bram took that to mean You know I don’t care about food.
They sat at Bram’s newly constructed kitchen table to eat. Zachary took a few bites of pasta and said, “It’s good, thanks.”
Bram narrowed his eyes at him, and he laughed. “Fine, it’s totally edible, I don’t care about it, but I was being polite because I appreciate you doing the work of cooking it. Okay? Better?”
And actually, it was.
Bram wouldn’t have thought that he’d prefer to hear someone say they didn’t care what his cooking tasted like, but the more time he spent around Zachary, the more he found himself soothed and reassured by his particular blunt variety of honesty.
It would be easy to say it was because after Naveen and Drake he would prefer any kind of honesty to any kind of lie, but it wasn’t that simple.
It wasn’t just the feeling that Zachary was being truthful. It was that his truths came without judgment. Like he detached facts from any evaluative metric, so he was able to tell them easily and without struggle. He didn’t assign any value to “tasting the food” so telling Bram he didn’t care about it was a logical extension, not a confession.
Bram’s phone started vibrating with texts from multiple siblings.
“Oh, shoot, it’s family Skype tonight. I forgot.”
“Okay, I’ll get out of your way.” Zachary started to clear his bowl.
“No, wait!” Bram suddenly, desperately wanted Zachary to stay. To be a part of his life. “Sorry, didn’t mean to shout. Just, I’d love it if you wanted to meet everyone. I’ve talked all about you so they’re dying to meet you.”
“You’ve talked about me?”
Zachary said it slowly, like he couldn’t quite imagine it.
“Of course.”
Bram didn’t clarify that his siblings had sent him dozens of texts begging for private introductions, pictures, and details about Zachary.
“Okay,” Zachary said quietly. He sat back down and patted himself into shape though he was already immaculate except for his wayward curls, which sproinged joyously.
“Yeah? Awesome.”
Bram sat next to him on the bench and propped his phone on the bookstand he used for a phone stand.
Before he signed on, he pressed a kiss to Zachary’s cheek. Zachary turned wide eyes on him, but leaned in and kissed him sweetly.
“Do I have food in my teeth?” he asked, then bared them.
“Nope, you’re good. Me?”
Bram did the same and Zachary reached over and brushed something off his lip.
“Thanks,” Bram breathed. It had been an intimate gesture and it had made his stomach go all squishy.
“Um. Brace yourself, I guess?” he said as he clicked the join call button.
“Huh?” Zachary asked.
Chapter Sixteen
Zachary
The screen came alive with faces and voices. Zachary knew Bram had four siblings, but he had no reference for what a seven-person family was like. One of them was cooking dinner, another was outside, a third had two kids jammed into view, and the fourth seemed to be upside down. Then there were the parents, who were pressed close together to share a screen. But before Zachary could track what they were talking about, one by one, all eyes snapped to the cameras and they started talking at once.
“Bram!” and “Is that Zachary?” and “HELLO, BRAM’S FRIEND!” and “About time, you little sneak.”
Next to him, Bram cleared his throat and when Zachary turned to him, he was turning red, flushing from his throat to the apples of his cheeks.
“Are you okay?” Zachary asked.
“Mmm-hmm,” Bram answered, strangled. “Just, maybe this was a bad idea.” But before he could say anything more, their mother held up her hand and the other feeds went quiet.
“Wow,” Zachary said. “I can’t believe that worked.”
“Bram, would you like to introduce your guest?” his mother said. “Kids, can you introduce yourselves too?”
She said it casually, but there was an air of steel in her voice. Zachary only had time to be amused at referring to these adults in the twenties and thirties as “kids,” including one brother who appeared to be even larger than Bram, before Bram spoke.