Page 51 of Finding Forever

“I had Mom,” I replied. “Between her and my grandparents I managed to survive coming out without too many issues. My friends wondered why it’d taken me so long to realize I was gay.”

Eric nodded again. “My friends were the same.”

“How old were you when you knew you were gay?”

“I knew when I was sixteen, but I didn’t tell anyone until I was twenty-four. I wasn’t sure how everyone in the NYPD would take the news. When I told them, a few people said things that annoyed me, but most people were okay.”

“What about your family?”

Eric shrugged. “It took my family a few months to get used to the idea, but they were great. I’m lucky they love me for who I am, especially when I took so long to tell them.” He reached into his pocket. “I know you said you don’t want this, but I’d like you to borrow it.” He handed me his dog whistle. “Alex’s nearest neighbor is five miles away and the cell phone coverage is hopeless. If anything happens, Sherlock might be able to find you.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be okay.” He called Sherlock over. “While Alex is taking your mom to the airport, I’ll show you where he keeps his satellite phone and how to use it. If you need to call anyone, that’s your safest bet.”

I slipped the whistle into my pocket. “Thank you.”

For the first time since we met, Eric looked vulnerable. “I’m sorry you’re involved in this, Riley. But I’m glad we met.”

I saw so much in his gaze—longing, acceptance, and regret. But mostly, an overwhelming need to protect.

Accepting help was foreign to me, but doing what Eric and Alex told me to do was the only thing that would get me through the next few days. Or maybe weeks.

thirty-eight

ERIC

Three days later, I saved the scene I was writing and rubbed my eyes. Alex’s home was growing on me. With its sprawling downstairs living area, there was more than enough room for everyone to live together without tripping over each other’s feet.

“There you are.”

I looked up to see Riley standing in the doorway. His gaze skimmed across the changes I’d made to the formal dining room.

“This looks good.”

“We only moved a few things around, but it makes a big difference.” With Alex’s help, I’d attached my storyboard to one wall. The dining table had become my desk and a bookcase had been converted into temporary shelves. Multicolored folders held my research notes, photos, and other information that went into making my stories as authentic as possible.

The most important addition was an old blue blanket. Each day, Sherlock curled himself into a ball and happily snoozed while I wrote.

“You were up late last night,” Riley said as he stepped closer.

I shrugged. “The story was flowing, so I thought I might as well keep going. Are you happy with the progress you’re making on your painting?”

A slow smile spread across his face. “I don’t know whether it’s the fresh mountain air or having a bigger work area, but I’m farther along than I thought I’d be.”

“That’s good.” I glanced at Sherlock. His nose was pressed to his paws, and his eyes were looking at Riley with the adoration of a dog who knows who gives him the most treats.

Riley knelt on the floor. “Hi, boy. Do you want to go for a walk?”

Sherlock’s ears twitched, and his jaw opened into a gigantic yawn. Within seconds, he was on his feet, stretching his front paws like a yoga master.

“Is Alex going with you?” I asked, knowing how isolated we were and unwilling to let Riley go anywhere alone.

Riley nodded. “I’ve been painting for the last four hours and Alex has been busy in his office. He thought a walk would clear our heads.”

I looked at my storyboard. The next scene would take a long time to write. If I didn’t take a break now, I’d still be there at dinnertime. “Do you want some more company?”

“Sure. I’ll pack another bottle of water and a muffin. We’ll meet you at the front door in a few minutes.”

---