Page 18 of Everywhere You Look

The no—or really, the lack of a yes—in front of an audience is embarrassing.

My cheeks go hot, and I grunt as I push myself up to standing and follow Luke out into the hallway.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks when we round a corner into a small alcove by the restroom. I just shrug, sheepishly.

“Proposing, obviously. And you know, it’s customary to accept a public proposal, even if you plan on rescinding later in private. Everyone knows that. It’s common fucking decency, Luke.”

He shoves at my chest, but even through his annoyance, I can see the beginnings of a smile threatening to break through the firm press of his lips.

“Why are you proposing, Dean? We can’t get married! We’re not in love. We’re not dating, we’re not…you’re my best friend, man.”

“Exactly! That’s exactly why I’m proposing. We might not beinlove, but we love each other. We rely on each other, and right now, you need a partner. A real partner who can show a judge that not only are you not a hot-headed asshole that shouldn’t be left alone around children, but that you’ve also got a support system in place to help you raise the girls. You heard what Lori said. Your parents and their lawyers are going to try to paint you in the most negative light they can. That’ll be pretty hard to dowhen you’ve got my last name tacked on to yours. I’ve got a stellar reputation. I come from a football legacy. The McKenna’s are American royalty. I’m attached to several charities and I’ve never had a major scandal in all my career. Face it, dude, I’m basically a walking, talking angel.”

Luke pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, worrying the bit of pink flesh. For half a second, I imagine leaning in and soothing over the sting with my tongue.

“It’s…it’s not the worst idea you’ve ever had…”

“No, the worst idea I ever had was that time I was in the middle of getting sacked in the end zone by the Indianapolis defense and tried to pass the ball with my left hand. I turned that ball right over and Indy got the touchdown and a two-point conversion courtesy of my stupidity. This is kind of brilliant, man.”

“But my dad…that church, they’re all sorts of homophobic. Like super duper, kill the gays kind of homophobic. I don’t know if marrying a man will end up working in my favor here.” Luke’s voice is soft and wavering, and it’s like a gut punch to my stomach. I realize how incredibly privileged I am to have grown up the way I did, knowing that love is love and that I would never be judged or cast out of my family just because I’m attracted to men just as much as I’m attracted to women. It’s not fair that Luke didn’t have the same experience, and that the hurt his family caused still lives with him now.

“Well fortunately for us, it doesn’t matter what kind of ass-backwards bullshit your parents and their church believe in. What matters is what’s legal and what the judge assigned to our case thinks. And we’re in San Francisco, baby. It doesn’t get any gayer than this city. The only people batting an eye at our marriage because of our gender will be your parents, and that will only make them look worse.”

Luke blows out a long breath. The look in his eyes says that maybe he’s coming around to my brilliant plan, but the hesitation still rolling off of him in waves is palpable.

“But Dean, you understand what you’re getting into, right? This wouldn’t just be some off-handed thing that you do. We’ll have to prove that we’re committed, and we’ll probably have to continue proving that for a while. There might even be check-ins with the Department of Family Services where Lemmie and Mellie are asked questions. You won’t just be marrying me, you’ll be committing to my kids, too.”

“Luke, baby, I’m already committed to those girls. I told you that after Gigi’s funeral. I'm in this thing. I am all in. I wouldn’t be offering to marry you if I wasn’t.”

“What about having a family of your own one day?”

I sigh, pinching my brow. I should have known that it was going to take a lot more than a quick conversation by a law office restroom to get Luke to see the light.

“C’mon,” I say, taking his hand in mine. “Let’s go out and get some fresh air. I think that might help us think and talk a bit more freely.”

Twenty minutes later, we’re sitting on the edge of the ruins of Sutro Baths, a once grand recreational swimming facility on the shores of the Pacific Ocean here in San Francisco. A long time ago, it was a huge building that brought water straight in from the ocean to fill its pools and provide entertainment for the people of the city. Now, the concrete ruins make up a unique and beautiful piece of the Golden Gate National Recreation Area. I came here for a hike with Kira back when she first moved to the city, and I fell in love with the weird little slice of nature and history.

I figured the salt air and the sound of the ocean waves smashing the rocky beach while the famous San Francisco fog rolls in would provide a picturesque setting for what I want to say to Luke.

“Do you remember when I told you about Samantha?” I ask, nudging Luke’s shoulder with mine.We’ve been relatively quiet since leaving Lori’s office, but it’s time to break that streak.

“Your college girlfriend?” He asks, and I nod. “What about her?”

“Well, I told you that we dated during our junior and senior years, and that I thought she’d be by my side when I went to the NFL…”

“But it didn’t pan out that way,” he finishes for me, because that’s usually where the story ends. No one outside of my immediate family knows what went down, but it’s time that my best friend knows.

“She was pregnant,” I sigh after a long moment. Luke’s gaze snaps up to meet mine, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“Pregnant? Holy shit. Is that way you?—”

“No.” I say, firmly. “No, I didn’t break up with her because she was pregnant. I didn’t break up with her at all. But it was a convoluted situation that we were dealing with. The baby wasn’t mine. Samantha…she didn’t technically cheat. We had a stupid fight at the end of our junior year and broke up for a few weeks, and she slept with one of my teammates. We got back together and then we found out she was pregnant.”

“But you didn’t break up with her,” Luke says. Not a question, just an observation.

“No, I didn’t. We stayed together. The fatherdipped, dropped out of college and disappeared, but it didn’t matter. I was going to be there for Samantha and the baby. I was there. I went to every appointment. I turned the extra room in my apartment into a nursery and painted it yellow. I bought one of those books that tells you what kind of fruit the fetus is week-by-week.”

“And then…” he says, trailing off so I can fill in the blanks.

---