Page 22 of I Think They Love You

In the span of thirty minutes, they’ve managed to fumble through ordering drinks for each other, argue over what table to sit at, and knock over a large glass of water—to the quiet annoyance of the Crema staff—just trying to hold hands.

Denz has held Jamie’s hand before. On drunken walks home from parties. During scary movies. That time Denz had the flu and vomited half his body weight into the toilet. But this?

This is different. It’swrong.

On the table, Jamie’s hand looks like a dead fish in Denz’s. Nothing about them saysWe fucked in the car on the way here. OrYou’re all I thought about today. It’s nothing like the way his hand used to look when held by—

Not going there,he reminds himself.

Point is, these aren’t boyfriend hands. It’s two people trying too hard, which won’t fly in front of Denz’s family. In front of his dad.

Fuck, it’shand-holding,a basic human interaction most people learn as toddlers. Denz is more than capable of this.

“What if we…” He tries to rotate their palms. Jamie slurps loudly on his Berry Bliss iced tea, not even trying. “There!”

Denz has slipped his fingers between Jamie’s. It’s still awkward. Maybe if he strokes his thumb along Jamie’s knuckles and—

Nope. That feels wrong too.

“How are you so fucking bad at this?” Denz whispers loud enough to draw the attention of an exasperated mom in yoga pants and her curious kid. He grins apologetically before shifting back to Jamie.

“Er.” Thick, dark eyebrows hide under Jamie’s wavy bangs.

“What?” Denz snaps.

“Why are your palms so hot?”

“My palms are not hot. They’re average temperature.Normal.”

“It feels like I stuck my hand in a volcano.”

Denz scowls. “Luckily, we don’t have to hold hands the entire dinner.”

Only when they arrive and leave. He’s already laid out the rest of the arrangement for Jamie. Four family appearances: dinner with his parents, the Valentine’s gala, the Sedwicks’ engagement party, his dad’s retirement celebration. Anything else can be done without physical intimacy.

God, how weird is it going to look when he kisses Jamie?

“So, how’s Gigi?” he asks, instead.

Gigi is Jamie’s latest ex. It’s been four months since the breakup. He’s been uncharacteristically single ever since. New relationships for Jamie are like Kylie Minogue songs at gay clubs—on constant rotation. He’s also great at remaining friends with exes.

Denz can’t relate.

“She got a puppy,” Jamie says. “His name’s the Hulk.”

“Why?”

“It’s what she used to call me—”

“Jamie!”Denz bites back a laugh. “Forget I asked.” He’s too informed about his best friend’s sex life as it is.

“I thought you might want to use it as a pet name.” Jamie winks over his cup.

Denz shakes his head. “What about your parents?”

A frown creases Jamie’s mouth.

Jeff and Liz Peters are what Denz calls “conversational liberals.” The kind that love to remind everyone they “voted for the first Black president” while never standing up to their racist, homophobic, bigoted country club friends. Who never rally against laws that affect their own son’s community.

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