Page 3 of I Think They Love You

Emmanuel has become a regular fixture in Denz’s life now. Random check-ins. Pep talks before exams. Inviting Denz to join his weekly Scrabble nights with Bray.

“He’s excited to see you,” Bray says.

“Maybe we should spend the whole break with him?”

Denz chugs his milkshake. Is brain freeze a valid enough excuse for missing dinner with his family?

“No way.” Bray signals toward the back seat. Carefully nestled between their luggage is a white box from No Crumb Left Behind, Athens’s best bakery. Inside, half a dozen chocolate-chip muffins await Kenneth. “These are your dad’s favorite.”

Bray’s great at remembering the smallest detail from a story you tell him. Keeping a mental log of all your favorite things. He never forgets the stuff you hate either, like onions on your burger.

“He’ll live,” Denz grumbles.

“Then who will eat them, my tiny muffin?” Bray leans in for a ketchup-sticky kiss that Denz almost rejects.

Hehatespet names.

Denz inhales again. He’s hit with the scent of greasy fast food and the horrendous Snowflakes and Sweaters car freshener Bray loves. Underneath, the heady aroma of Bray’s coconut bodywash soothes him.

“I need a minute.”

To convince myself I’m not making a big mistake,he thinks, but doesn’t say.

What if his parentsdon’tlove Bray?

Denz shakes his head. That’s not a thing. He won’t let itbea thing.

He cranes over the center console to rest his forehead against Bray’s. “I’m gonna rip that stupid sweater off you with my teeth.”

“Is that before or after I meet your parents?”

“In between?”

Bray shrugs. “I don’t know. There might not be time. I’ll be pretty busy wooing your mom and impressing your dad.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Denz lies. “He’s just a dad.”

“There’s a video of him hugging Idris Elba onGood Day Atlantaall over the internet,” Bray deadpans. “He’s notjust a dad.”

Denz lets Bray feed him bites of burger. He’s not wrong about Kenneth. Denz just doesn’t want to admit it out loud.

“I’m gonna convince your entire family I’m the greatest boyfriend ever,” Bray tells him.

“It’ll only be my parents, Kami, and Nic. Mikah too, but he’s not hard to impress. Being a baby and all.”

“No aunts or uncles? Cousins?”

“Nope.” Denz steals the aux cord to plug his phone in. No way he’s suffering through another one of Bray’s true crime podcasts while driving. “Auntie Cheryl and Uncle Tevin are in LA with Jordan while he’s on winter break. Auntie Eva’s at Uncle Orlando’s family’s villa in Puerto Rico. Gone until after New Year’s.”

Denz planned it this way. Less prying questions and unfiltered commentary from extended family.

Bray asks, “What about your mom’s family?”

“Too spread out across the country.”

Bray looks slightly relieved. Like he was secretly dreading having to talk to that many people at once. Denz grew up around large group settings, either from family gatherings or the company’s year-round events. Bray hasn’t. He prefers nights in to parties overflowing with strangers.

Denz drums his fingers on the steering wheel. Scrolls through his playlist. Turns the heat down, then up. It’s one dinner. One winter break.

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