Page 4 of I Think They Love You

“Denz.” Bray’s voice is restless. “You’re not backing out, are y—”

“No.”

“Good.” He kisses Denz. Soft, punctuated. “I want to meet your family.”

It hits like a shock wave. A ripple in Denz’s gut that might not ever subside. Bray’s not intimidated. He’s confident. Hewantsthis to happen.

Over the console, Denz grabs Bray’s hand. He squeezes three times. Their secret code:I love you.

“Promise not to regret this,” Denz requests.

“I survived Nic’s commentary on my musicandmovie taste,” Bray reminds him. Denz groans.Why are all thirteen-year-olds such feral creatures with strong opinions?But Bray smiles sweetly. “How bad can your parents be?”

Denz cackles. He hits Play on his phone. Lorde’s “Royals” thumps through the speakers as he finally throws the car in reverse.

“You have no idea.”

But Denz does. Heknowshis family. They’ll fall helplessly in love with Bray the same way he has. It’s inevitable. Destiny on the fringe of being fulfilled.

What can possibly go wrong?

-1-

Five Years Later

Denz has afewregrets.

First, being too distracted to notice the uneven sidewalk as he sprints from the parking garage. No one’s around to see him trip. Or hop backward to recover the loafer he lost. It doesn’t matter because he’s still late. Still on hour twenty-five of an unforgivable hangover from the annual 24 Carter Gold New Year’s Eve celebration.

His second regret: gulping down lemon drop martini number four just before midnight on Saturday. When it comes to alcohol, Denz is far from a lightweight. But he barely got out of bed yesterday. He also forgot to set his phone’s work alarm.

Halfway there, he pauses to fix his loafer. He ignores the fact that he’s wearing twodifferentsocks. That his dark slacks are wrinkled. At least his sweater’s not inside out.

It’s a cool January morning. Atlanta’s skyline is a tangled ribbon of blue and gray. Working the day after a holiday should be illegal. Denz doesn’t care that their Monday staff meeting has been pushed back an hour. He’d prefer to be in bed instead of looking like a breathless, uncaffeinated mess while jogging through 9:00A.M.foot traffic.

“You’re late.”

Outside the glass building housing 24 Carter Gold’s offices, Kami watches Denz stumble to a stop.

“Wasn’t timeliness one of your New Year’s resolutions?” she asks.

“Was it?”

He can’t remember. This—among many reasons—is why Denz limits his drinks at work functions. He tends to make very regrettable declarations to his older sister after a second martini.

Denz yawns into the crook of his elbow. “How the hell are you so put-together this early?”

Her naturally curly hair is sleeked into a tight bun. She’s wearing pearl earrings and a beige Givenchy trench over a teal high-neck dress.

“I’m raising a six-year-old,” Kami reminds him. “I’ve been up since the ass crack of dawn learning about thousands of butterfly species from his iPad.” She sighs. “Did you know there are over seven hundred species in the US alone?”

Denz beams. “Mikah’s a genius.”

Kami tilts her head to inspect him. “The real question is why do you look like a gay Carlton fromThe Fresh Prince?”

“I donot,” he argues. His snug Ralph Lauren cable-knit sweater with a white oxford underneath isn’tthat bad.

Kami smirks. “If you’re auditioning for the only Black guy in a Lifetime Christmas movie, then sure. You look incredible.”

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