Page 85 of I Think They Love You

His constant fear of being…enough. For everyone.

He whispers, “Do you know what it’s like to be so scared you’re going to fail that you constantly fuck up anyways?”

“Um. ’Ello.” Braylon snorts. “I’m the gay son of anart curatorand a first-gen Nigerian Americandoctor. My whole life is a severe case of impostor syndrome. But you’re not a fraud, Denz.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ve been there. Beenyou.”

Denz leaves room for Braylon to continue.

“I followed my dad’s dreams for me,” he says, taking his eyes off Denz to wash dishes. “Moving for a job. Starting a new life. I thought I was making him proud. Doing what he expected of me.”

Denz chews instead of commenting.

“I was wrong.”

Under the lights, Braylon’s face sharpens. His nostrils flare. That sad gleam returns to his eyes.

“I learned a lot about myself in London.” His gaze doesn’t waver. “But I—”

Denz holds his breath.

But he what? Regrets leaving? Wishes he would’ve given Denz more time to make a decision? Should’ve ignored Emmanuel’s advice? He wants to apologize?

“I would’ve done it differently,” Braylon says. He dries his hands on a towel. “I wish I could tell him how I felt back then. How I feel now too. But he’s gone and…”

Silence. Another unfinished sentence.

As Braylon puts away dishes, Denz says, “I really liked your dad.”

“He was a complicated man.” A wistful smile nudges Braylon’s lips. “But he loved you too, Denz. Truly.”

Denz looks away. He doesn’t want to give in to his thoughts. The guilt he feels for still being a little angry with Emmanuel, even in death.

“Maybe this is your chance to do things differently,” Braylon suggests. “What do you want for yourself?”

“I—” Denz stops short.

He’s known since the moment he put on his graduation robes where his future was headed. Before that, too. Like freshman year when he picked his major. Or when he was ten, watching his parents’ second chance at a dream wedding reception. As a six-year-old, witnessing his dad save Audrey Hudson’s big day.

But he never bothered to ask if it was whathewanted? Is Kami right? Is this his fantasy, not his dream?

“I don’t know,” Denz confesses. “Guess I haven’t changed that much.”

Braylon doesn’t argue with him. Instead, he slots himself between Denz’s knees.

Their eyes meet. Denz inhales peeled oranges and cardamom. His tongue absently flicks over his lips.

He doesn’t know the proper etiquette for having your ex-now-fake-boyfriend’s hips bracketed by your knees. His hands rubbing your thighs. He’d check Reddit if all his brain power wasn’t already rerouted to his rapidly rising dick.

“Actually, I’m not so different either.” Braylon smiles wickedly. His hands inch higher. “There are certain things I still…enjoy.”

Denz can’t simultaneously focus on breathing and staring at Braylon, so he chooses the latter. Who needs oxygen anyway?

Ivory light halos Braylon’s messy, dark curls. Hunger creeps into the corners of his eyes. He leans in. Warm breaths ghost across Denz’s lips. Then, prickly scruff scratches down his cheek as Braylon bypasses his mouth.

He hovers in the space under Denz’s jaw to whisper, “Can I kiss you… here?”

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