Page 160 of I Think They Love You

He’s built walls for a reason. Kept anyone who wasn’t family or Jamie at a distance. He refuses to repeat history. But here he is, discovering how bottomless that hole in his heart is because he let Braylon crawl back into it.

“Tell him the truth,” Kami suggests.

Denz closes his eyes, swearing under his breath. So much of his life has been stacking lie after lie, one on top of another. He’s perfected a likable persona for the public. Walked toward the future while dragging his past with him. But he doesn’t want to continue like that.

Hecan’t.

“Where do I start?”

“Jesus.”Kami snatches her phone off the desk. Her thumbs blur across the screen. “You’re the goddamn king of rom-coms. You live for that shit. How do you not know how to tell the love of your life what’s in your heart?”

Denz scowls. “Sorry, I’m not Jane Austen or Garry fucking Marshall.”

“Or Nora Ephron,” she huffs.

Okay, Denz didn’t come here to be ridiculed for his inability to Will Thacker his own life. He came to apologize. Mission accomplished.

“Sit!”Kami demands when he goes to stand. He flops back down. “I ordered you something. It’ll be at your apartment in four hours. Jamie’s meeting you after work. Once I feed Mikah, I’ll FaceTime you two.” She types. “Groceries will be at your place around six-ish.”

“Groceries?”

When she looks at him, Kami’s excited grin is on levels AuntieCheryl could never reach. “Denz, you’re a fucking Carter. We don’t do anything small.”

Leaving this entire operation in the hands of a Pinterest mood board fanatic was a massive mistake.

First, it’s seventy degrees outside and he’s in full cosplay.

Second, it’s not even the right character. When Kami explained the plan to him, Denz figured he’d be dressed as Captain America. Maybe the Winter Soldier. Instead, he’s trapped in an Iron Man suit made of ethylene-vinyl acetate, from eBay. He can barely see out the helmet.

Third, he’s in public, at a downtown park overflowing with screaming children, loud music, and way too many witnesses for what he’s about to do.

“Are you sure—” Denz sighs, yanking the helmet’s faceplate up. “—this is necessary?”

“Absolutely.” Jamie grins euphorically. “This is your Will Thacker moment. It’s gonna be bigger than Heath Ledger singing ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You.’ Better than the boom box scene inSay Anything. Sweeter than Henry Golding—fuck, he’s hot—proposing on the airplane while helping everyone with their luggage.”

Denz stares down at himself. “None of them were cosplaying as a superhero.”

“None of them have what you and Braylon do.”

“Which isnothinglast time I checked.”

Jamie turns to look out at the park. With a lot of effort—as nice as the suit looks, it’s impossible to move in—Denz does the same.

Pavilions and benches dot the green, flat land. Skye’s the Limit’s staging area is a white tent with food and drinks. Nearby, barbeque pits exhale trails of smoke. A van parked on the grass pumps out Muna’s “I Know a Place,” and a drag queen Denz called a favor in to lip-syncs for her life to the crowd of families and teens and adults.

It’s a strong turnout.

Denz spots the mayor and her team, the only group in Ray-Ban aviators under giant umbrellas, but no Braylon. What if he didn’t come? He already has the promotion. What’s left?

Jamie, sensing his hesitation, says, “Remember what I told you—youcanhave both.”

Fear catches in Denz’s throat. “What if he doesn’t feel the same?”

“Bro, life is full of what-ifs,” Jamie tells him. “What if it rains? What if the burgers are undercooked and everyone gets food poisoning? What if you fall on your face and—”

“Not. Helping.”

“We can’t live in fear of worst-case scenarios,” Jamie says with a sincere smile. “So what if he doesn’t feel the same? You’ll live. But never doing anything, living with the regrets—that’s the shit that kills us.”

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