Page 43 of From the Ashes

I touch his elbow, feeling oddly calm. “It’s okay, baby,” I say, deliberately using the new nickname that I’m fully aware makes him melt into a puddle. I don’t want to hide in front of Preston, but I do glance at him to make sure that we’re still cool. If we’re not, we’re not. I’ll be sad, and he could make my life hell at the office if he felt like it. But I don’t want Zahir shrinking away like he did just now.

Preston snorts. “I have no doubt this asshole fucks like he fights in closing arguments. Fast and dirty. Good job you’re a trained medic, huh?” He adds a wink.

There’s a tense moment where I don’t think Zahir or I can believe this interaction just happened. Then I burst out laughing, decades of relief bubbling their way out all at once.

“Douchebag,” I snipe, taking back what I thought about him earlier, if only in jest. I whack his arm, which makes Jack bark and start dancing around us.

Finally, Zahir laughs as well, clearly relieved and probably a little shocked.

“Anyway, I better keep going with this monster,” Preston says fondly, giving some subtle signal to Jack, who instantly races off again, picking squabbles with the surf. “It was great to meet you, Zahir. I’m serious about that running thing, Ross. Let’s make it happen.”

“See you tomorrow,douchebag,”I tell him fondly and, without thinking on my part, we share half a hug with a backslap. That’s certainly never happened before, but it felt right in the moment. He goes along with it and doesn’t seem to think it was strange.

Perhaps we are genuinely friends now, not just work acquaintances?

Zahir and I watch him wander off as the sun slips a little farther behind the trees. Then I turn to face Zahir, and he raises his eyebrows at me.

“So…that happened,” he prompts. I nod and hum. “How do you feel about it?”

I take a deep breath and huff it out again before lifting my hand between us, wiggling my fingers in an invitation. “Really fucking good,” I inform him with a grin.

He looks from my face to my hand, then slowly reaches out to accept it.

There we go. We’re two men holding hands out in the open. It’s pretty clear to anyone who might see us what that probably means. But at least right now, I don’t care. I feel invincible.

“Was that the first time you came out to anyone?” Zahir asks, sounding a little awestruck.

I shrug. “Did I really come out?”

Zahir chuckles and squeezes my hand. “Maybe not technically with all the words. Maybe you’re still in the closet, but you just opened the door and waved your feather boa at him.”

That makes me properly laugh, and we separate so we can pick up our boards from the sand and start making our way back to his place. “I don’t think I’m ever going to be a feather boa gay, but I’ll defend anyone who is pro bono.”

“Oh, give it time,” he says. The light may be fading, but his smile is luminescent. “Wait until we go to your first Pride parade.”

For a split second, the idea feels me with fear, simply because that’s how I’ve felt my whole life. Being gay hasn’t been something I could celebrate. It was something I hid in shame.

But not anymore. At least, not all the time. Not most of the time, in fact.

That’s not even what dismisses the fear as soon as it’s surfaced, though. What scares it away is the fact that Zahir said ‘when’ not ‘if.’

Whenwe go to my first Pride. Like it’s an inevitable thing.

Like he’s seeing a future for us the way I’m trying to.

The details are hazy, but the hope is strong. Perhaps that’s all we need?

CHAPTER 18

Zahir

Colt came out to someone.

He really did it.

I thought going out in public together was a big enough step, but he just…did that.

I’m still wrestling with the guilt of putting my foot in it. I honestly don’t know what came over me to jeopardize his privacy like that. Not once when we were teenagers did I ever come close to doing something in that way.

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