Page 44 of Faking It Right
“Well, heispretty stubborn.”
She giggled. “He gets that from his father. Though I’m no saint either. It took me two years of friendship with Danson to finally admit I was in love with him.”
“You were college sweethearts, right?”
“Yep, we started as study partners. I believed we were only friends, even though butterflies staged a coup in my stomach every time we were together.”
That sounded all too familiar. “What changed?”
“He kissed me right in the middle of cramming for finals. He claimed he couldn’t focus on calculus when all he could think about was me.”
“Oooh, smooth.”
“Twenty-eight years and two kids later, here we are.”
I wondered if Ryker and I could have a story like that someday. The kiss we’d shared in his bedroom had felt like more than pretending. The way he’d touched me and the sounds he’d made weren’t the actions of somebody who was only playing a role.
“In the past, I used to worry that Ryker would never find someone who truly understood him,” Jacinta continued. “He’s always been my sensitive one. There’s so much going on beneath the surface that he never lets anyone see.”
“I know what you mean.” Countless memories came to mind of all the times Ryker had put on a brave face when I knew he was hurting inside. “He’s not a fan of showing vulnerability.”
“Exactly. But he lets you see it, doesn’t he?”
I nodded, remembering the night his grandfather passed away. He had shown up in my room at three in the morning, eyes red-rimmed but dry. Without saying a word, he collapsed into my arms so I could hold him until sunrise.
“When he called me after his grandfather died, he mentioned you were the only one he wanted to see that night. Not even Sawyer. That’s how I knew.”
That was news to me.
“You’ve always been special to him, Harley,” she continued. “Even if it took him a while to figure out exactly how much.”
I busied myself with hanging another photo, not trusting my voice. Her genuine support made our little ruse feel malicious in ways I hadn’t anticipated.
“I hope you understand you’re already a member of this family,” she said, gesturing to the wall we were decorating. “These photos aren’t merely decorations. They’re the story of us. And you’ve been part of our narrative for years.”
The images blurred as I fought back the embarrassing prickle of tears. There I was at Christmas, at Sawyer’s birthday bash, at the family barbecue two summers ago. I’d been included in their lives long before Ryker and I had started our dating charade.
“Thank you. That means a lot to me,” I told her.
She must have sensed my emotional turmoil because she gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze. “I know your family situation is complicated.”
That was putting it mildly. I shrugged, aiming for nonchalance but probably missing by a mile. “Let’s just say they’re not planning any Pride parades anytime soon.” My relationship with them had ended when I was forced out of the closet at fifteen and had to move in with friends.
“Well, their loss is our gain. You’ll always have a home here, Harley. With or without Ryker, although I’m betting on ‘with’ forthe long haul. Family celebrates who you are, not who they wish you were. We all adore you for just being you.”
I blinked back tears. “I know. You’ve always shown me that.”
“Good.” She handed me the last photo, a candid shot of Ryker and me from yesterday, caught mid-laughter on the porch swing. I hadn’t noticed Jacinta taking it. We were wrapped up in our own little bubble, blissfully unaware of the world around us. It looked so natural, so real. Because, in that moment, it truly had been.
“This one’s my new favorite,” she proclaimed.
I hung it in the center of the display, my heart full and aching at the same time. “Mine, too.”
We stepped back to admire our handiwork. The photos now told a tale that included me, not as a friend or a visitor, but as someone who belonged.
“Perfect,” Jacinta declared. “Now, our family wall is complete, at least until you two bless me with grandchildren.”
I almost dropped the hammer. “That’s, uh, probably a ways off.”
