Page 80 of I Think They Love You

Denz rolls his eyes. He’s flipped pancakes before. Technically, he was in the kitchen whereUncle Orlandoflipped pancakes. It still counts. He just needs the right angle of approach.

His first try nearly tips over the pan.

Bray snorts.

“Shut it,” Denz hisses.

By the fourth attempt, he manages to flip the sandwich. It lands with a splat, uneven but mostly intact. He whoops.

Bray eyes the blackened bread. “You burnt it.”

“I like it crispy.”

Bray leans down to kiss the top of Denz’s shadow-fade haircut. “Nice try. Four out of ten.”

“God,” Denz says, laughing, “you’re lucky I love you.”

He freezes. Back stiff, knees locked, mouth hanging open as the spatula slips from his hand, clattering on the hardwood. It’s not nearly as loud as the expression on Bray’s face.

“You… what?”

“It was the song!” Denz splutters, panicked. “I mean, what I’m trying to say is…”

Whatishe trying to say?

He can’t possibly love Bray. It’s only been eight months. This is his firstrealrelationship. It’s supposed to take longer to say those words. Isn’t it?

There’s a ringing in his head—an obvious warning.

“The sandwich,” Bray blurts.

“The… sandwich?”

“Burning,” Bray says, coughing. “The sandwich is burning!”

Oh. That shrill noise is the smoke detector. By the time Bray’s fully opened the balcony door and dropped the frying pan into the sink, three things hit Denz at once:

One, he literally almost set them on fire.

Two, he’s one more incident away from losing his parents’ security deposit.

Three, Bray isn’t going to say those three words back because Denz is an impulsive idiot who needs to find a fuckingfilterand—

“Are you okay?”

The voice comes soft and steady, startling him. A thin haze of smoke hovers between them. He stares at Bray’s concerned face.

“Yeah?” He blinks. “Just spaced out, I guess.”

Bray cuts off the stove. “So, about what you said…”

Oh no. That’s how all “you’re sweet, but I don’t feel the same” speeches start. Is he really going to get dumped over charred grilled cheese?

Bray says, “I love you, too.”

“Er—what?”

“I’ve been wanting to say it for weeks.” Bray smiles, rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought it was too soon? But it’snot. For me, anyway. Then I thought you’d freak out. Which, um, are you?”

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