Page 162 of I Think They Love You

Fucking tall people,he thinks with hostility.

Under the cool shade of a maple tree, Braylon says, “Well?”

Denz hates himself for wanting this to be easy. Confessing your feelings isn’t easy. Going out on a limb isn’t easy.Loveis never, ever easy.

“I had a plan.” He gestures toward the costume. To the swamp devouring the sandwich he worked so hard on. Frustrated tears bite at his eyelashes. “I was gonna dress as your favorite rom-com hero—”

“Tony Stark?”

He groans. “No, Captain America. But they didn’t have his costume. Or the Winter whatever he’s called.”

“What about Carol Danvers?”

“I don’t know who that is.”

Before Braylon can launch into a feverish rant that’ll surely cost Denz more of the short time he’s been given, he says, “I wanted to dress up asyourversion of romance. And I made you a French toast grilled cheese.” He hates the tremble in his voice as he adds, “I even did The Flip. It took four tries, but I did it.”

“You… cooked? For me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Braylon asks.

If there were ever a moment in his life where Denz truly wished he was his dad, it’s now. Because he sucks at speeches. He’s terrible with words, which is why he loves social media. There, he can disguise his inability to think of clever or vulnerable things to say with artistic and gorgeous photos. Or just go shirtless.

But here… Denz has to strip all that away. No smoke and mirrors. Once he says what’s in his heart, there’s no edit button. No deleting and trying again later.

This isfinal.

“The moment you walked back into my life, I hated your accent,” Denz says. “Your obsession with tea. Your god-awful wardrobe.”

“If this is—”

“No, wait,” Denz pleads. “I hated that you didn’t look the same. That you didn’t smell like coconut bodywash. Or that you owned acatin London when you used to always talk about getting a dog.”

Braylon’s eyebrows raise in awhere is this goingway.

“I came up with at least ten other things to hate about you because…” He inhales shakily. “Because I loved you the second I saw you again.”

Braylon’s mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

“I loved you the moment we met at that silly party,” Denz goes on. “I loved you all through college. Loved you when you left. Damn it, I loved you even after you broke my heart.”

His throat is so tight. But Denz doesn’t quit.

“I’m sorry I ever wanted you to be someone different, someone from the past, just to impress my family. Because—” Denz smiles nervously. “—how could anyone not instantly fall in love with you?”

Braylon rubs the back of his neck. “I could think of a few reasons.”

“If someone can’t love every version of you—amazingandannoying—then they don’t deserve to love any version of you.” Denz swallows. “Including me.”

“Denz,” Braylon starts, face falling. “You—”

“You said I made you want to be honest with yourself,” Denz interrupts, voice thick and overwhelmed, “but that’s not true.”

“It’s… not?”

“No.” A wobbly laugh. “We made each other honest. It just took me longer to see it.”

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