Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85885 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Rye hated to hear the defeat in Charlie’s voice, but his heart sang at the acknowledgement. He hadn’t been wrong about Charlie.
“Charlie, you are generous. You’ve been nothing but generous to me. You help all these people who come into the store. You protected Jack when you were kids. Made sure he had everything he needed. But you’re not a kid anymore. You don’t have to just think about what your parents might’ve done. You can make your own choices now.”
“You really know what you think is right. In here,” Charlie said, touching Rye’s chest with two fingers. “It’s not about following rules or being polite or doing what other people expect. You just know your values for yourself. I really admire it.”
Rye leaned his head against Charlie’s shoulder.
“Thanks. With a shitbird father you kinda have to make sure you know your own mind or there’s a chance you could end up believing his. Anyway, you have time now,” he said. “To figure out what your values are, you know?”
“They might not be the same as yours,” Charlie warned.
“That’s okay. As long as they’re compatible.”
“Yeah?”
“There are definitely things that wouldn’t be okay. But then those wouldn’t be compatible. Like, if you thought about it and decided you didn’t think people should be equal or that money was more important than lives or that you wanted to destroy the planet, then yeah, we’re not compatible. But I’m pretty sure we’re okay on all those fronts. Right?”
“Yes.”
“We can talk about stuff,” Rye said. “Whenever you want. That’s...that’s what couples do, right?” he ventured, gritting his teeth in case Charlie wasn’t sure he wanted to be a couple anymore.
But Charlie leaned in and gathered Rye in his arms.
“Right,” he said.
They sat that way for a while, then Charlie said very softly, “I’ve never had a fight before.”
Rye knew what he meant: a fight with a lover, a partner. He meant: Is it over now? Are we okay?
“We’re okay,” Rye said. “As long as we keep talking, we’re okay.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Charlie
When he’d gotten to Jack and Simon’s and found Rye not there, something had happened inside Charlie’s heart. Something primal and screaming and afraid. He’d thought Rye had left. Even though he knew Rye would never leave without Marmot, his silly, simple heart had thought Rye was gone.
And his silly, simple heart had broken.
Now he texted Jack to tell him he’d found Rye and tried to get his body to catch up with his brain.
He watched Rye in the rearview mirror the whole drive home, like if he took his eyes off him for a second, Rye would vanish. Rye drove with his window down despite the chill, hair whipping around his face.
When they got home, Charlie drew Rye down on the couch in front of him and started the task of untangling his hair.
“I’ve been thinking more and more about why I came here,” Rye said. “I mean, I left Seattle in minutes. I never met my grandfather. I didn’t even know he lived in Wyoming, but that lawyer said I had a house here and I was gone. And so I’ve just been thinking about how I fucking want that, man. I want a home.”
Rye turned to look at Charlie and squeezed his hand hard. He looked lost and beautiful.
“Well, you’ll have one soon,” Charlie said.
Rye nodded but he was scowling and looked confused. Charlie remembered what Rye had said in the dark of the Crow Lane house. As long as we keep talking, we’re okay. He swallowed hard and forced himself to speak.
“Rye, I—Earlier, before we fought... I was going to ask you to stay here with me. To not move into the Crow Lane house. To live here.”
Charlie’s heart beat a furious tattoo and Rye’s eyes went wider than Charlie had ever seen them.
“This... I’m in this,” Charlie said. “I want it. A home, like you said. I mean I know I have a house, but I’ve wanted...to share it. I—” Mortification flowed from an unknown source outside him. “I built this house for you.”
Rye’s eyes opened even wider.
“Not for you, I don’t mean, but for a you.” He shook his head. “This is so embarrassing. You know how you said I picked neutral things for this house because of the resale benefit?”
Rye nodded slowly.
“I didn’t. That wasn’t why. It was... I had this dream. This...fantasy.” Charlie’s voice broke. “It wasn’t even something I ever admitted to myself. Not consciously. But I chose things that could appeal to anyone so that maybe someday my someone would feel at home here. God, that sounds so stupid when I say it out loud.”
Charlie cringed. He stared at his hands and the rug and Jack’s illustration on the wall. Anything to avoid seeing whatever might be in Rye’s eyes.
Rye tipped his chin up and Charlie met eyes of mercury. A tear spilled down Rye’s cheek and he made no move to brush it away.