Page 34 of I Think They Love You

“I don’t have any Valentine’s plans.” Denz’s questioning eyebrow lift is met by an eye roll. “If you show up without your ‘boyfriend’”—Braylon’s air quotes are offensive to Denz—“on the most romantic day of the year, what will your family think?”

“The same as always.”

Denz is incapable of taking anything seriously, including dragging his boyfriend to what is potentially the biggest event of his career.

Somberly, he says, “You don’t have to—”

“We’ll discuss details later.” Braylon plucks the phone from Denz’s cold fingers. “Here’s my number. Text me yours.”

Denz reluctantly sends Braylon a message:hello.

“Well, um,” he says around the tightness in his throat, “see you soon?”

Braylon nods once before walking away. Denz strolls in the opposite direction. He doesn’t peek over his shoulder. Refuses to check if Braylon’s watching him, scowling. Or maybe smiling again.

On the way to his car, Denz does something he hasn’t done in a very,verylong time:

He saves a man’s number in his phone.

“Wait! Hold on!” Jamie frantically waves his hands at the screen. Thankfully, Denz has one wireless earbud in, so no one hears how loud he is. Still, he lowers the volume on his phone just as Jamie says, “TheBray Adams? Ex-boyfriend Bray? Lives-in-London Bray? Your ex-boyfriend who lives in London,thatBray Adams?”

“That’s him.”

“And he just appeared out of nowhere?”

“Kind of?”

Denz props the phone against his office monitor. On the FaceTime screen, Jamie’s toweling off in their apartment’s gym locker room. As distracting as random appearances from shirtless men passing by or the occasional gym-bro flexing for a mirror selfie is, Denz manages to stay on topic.

This is his first opportunity to tell Jamie about Friday night.

“And he agreed to be your fake boyfriend? For dinner with your parents?”

“Something like that,” Denz says with a sigh.

“Plot fucking twist.”

Denz hides his amused grin behind his knuckles. It’s been fivedays since Braylon played Prince Charming for Denz’s parents. Five days since Denz found Jamie under a blanket on their sofa with red-rimmed eyes and a fumbling apology.

“I couldn’t do it,” he admitted. “Lying to your family. Pretending we were more than inseparable, platonic soulmates who hateMade of Honorwith our entire existences.”

(Denzstillwants all one hour and forty-one minutes of his life back from watching that Patrick Dempsey abomination.)

Denz understood Jamie’s reasoning. On the drive home, he realized his plan wasn’t fair to his best friend. He’d selfishly coerced Jamie into helping him. Jamie gained nothing from lying. At least with Braylon, there’s a trade-off.

“Bray the Boyfriend—”

“Actually, it’s Braylon.” Denz cringes. When did he become so defensive about a name he never even used until recently? “He, uh, prefers Braylon now.”

Denz considers throwing his phone in the trash the moment a scandalous grin splits Jamie’s face.

“So this is a thing?”

“It’s a plan B,” Denz modifies. “He pretends to be my boyfriend. I get him a meeting with Mayor Reynolds for his job.”

“Where does he work?”

“A nonprofit.”

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