Page 157 of I Think They Love You

lol srry mom

Nothing’s different about 24 Carter Gold’s offices. There’s constant chatter about upcoming events. Interns running around with frantic energy. Connor, on his third cup of coffee, walking into a wall while texting. The only change is Denz, stepping off the elevator in a check-sleeve Burberry T-shirt, dark denim jeans, and running shoes.

For once, he’s not here to work.

But he has a checklist and plans.

His first stop: Eric’s office with a lunch invite.

“Lunch?With the new boss’s foot so far up my ass about the mayor’s birthday party, I can taste her Jimmy Choos every time I swallow?” Eric asks flatly. He cleans his glasses before adding, “Does noon work for you?”

Denz laughs, accepting Eric’s calendar invite when it pops up.

His next stop: an office he’s seen too many times since the age of six. Before he can knock, the door swings open, and someone almost crashes into him.

“Whoa, cuz!”

Jordan blinks owlishly.

Denz flexes an eyebrow. They haven’t talked since the retirement party, a recurring trend with everyone important in his life. “So… what’s new?”

And this one question is what undoes Jordan.

“Nothing! Nope. There’s no me and Jamie.” Jordan cringes, then lowers his voice. “I mean, we’refriends. We hang out. We do stuff—but not, like,that stuff. Because… I’m still figuring things out?”

“Okay. Stop.”

Denz isn’t here to press Jordan on the topic. Not like Auntie Cheryl would.

He sees a tiny bit of himself in Jordan. Being the only queer person in their family has always been…hard. Constantly feeling like the odd one out. A feeling he knows no other Carter willever understand or experience. But that doesn’t give him any right to ask Jordan to come out.

He thinks about College Braylon, who wasn’t out when they met. The thousands of teens and adults still learning themselves, at their own pace. The ones who don’t have a label yet. The ones who don’twanta label. All the ones who need time and space and safety first.

Jordan deserves that same respect.

“If you ever want to talk, I’m here, okay?” Denz offers. When Jordan nods, he adds, “And if you don’t want to talk, that’s cool too.”

Jordan releases a slow, relieved breath.

“Thanks, cuz.”

Denz pats him on the shoulder, then slips into the office.

It’s weird, seeing Kami behind the large desk opposite the lavender love seat where Audrey Hudson cried. Where Denz laid the foundation for his dreams at 24 Carter Gold. The ghosts of Kenneth Carter still linger here. From the bookcase stuffed with awards to the ebony leather chair Kami’s sitting on. But there are pieces of her filling up the spaces too: a giant whiteboard with Pinterest ideas. Mikah’s Spider-Man LEGOs on the coffee table. A glass bowl loaded with green M&M’s on the desk’s corner.

It’s not weird,he thinks.It’s right.

She belongs on that side of the desk, living her dream. And he belongs here, on the opposite side, figuring out what his is.

“Out of curiosity,” he says, flopping onto the love seat, “where’dthisenergy come from?”

He shows off his phone screen. The group chat. Her last message reads:His name’s Suraj. I love him. That’s all you need to know.

Kami rests both elbows on the desk, fingers forming a bridge for her chin to sit on. “Someone said I was too scared to share my personal life with my family,” she says, “so I did something about it.”

“I didn’t mean let the whole world in.”

She shrugs. “Go big or go home, right?”

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