Chapter 37

RILEY

"Take care of my son." Mom hugged Eric, then turned to me, her eyes filled with concern. "Don't talk to any reporters. They'll twist any piece of information to make a headline."

I wrapped my arms around her, feeling the familiar warmth of her embrace. "I know. I'll be careful. Thank you for coming to see me."

"If I didn't have to go home, I'd stay for longer. If you want to get away from Sunrise Bay, come to Indianapolis. It's not Colorado, but it has its own charm." Mom linked her arm with mine. "And call me each day. I want to make sure you're okay."

"I will."

She led me toward Alex's truck. We decided it would be safer if Alex took her to the airport. "Eric's a nice man," she whispered. "Don't discount him just because he's a writer."

"What's wrong with writers?" I whispered back, curious to hear her reasoning.

"Your dad wrote articles for magazines, and you know how that ended."

I bit my lip to stop myself from smiling. "Dad had other issues. Eric's not like him."

Mom glanced over my shoulder at Eric. "No, he's not. He likes you."

"He thinks I'm stubborn."

"There's nothing wrong with a person who knows their own mind."

"I hope you haven't discussed any of this with Eric?" I opened the door of Alex's truck.

"Of course not. But let me know when the two of you start a relationship. I like to plan for the future."

I sighed, knowing she never missed a chance to mention her hopes for my future. "It's not going to happen, Mom. Eric's my neighbor and my friend."

She hugged me again. "We'll see. I'll call you when I arrive home."

"That'd be great."

She waved to Eric one last time before climbing into the passenger seat.

As the truck disappeared down the gravel driveway, I felt a mix of relief and sadness.

"She'll be okay," Eric told me softly.

"I hope so." When I looked at him, there was a mischievous gleam in his eyes. I started to smile, until I realized why he was so amused. Then I groaned. "You heard what Mom said, didn't you?"

His smile widened. "Most of it. What happened to your dad?"

"He ran off with the editor of the magazine he was writing for. They're happily married and living in Arizona."

"How often do you see him?"

"I've only seen him twice since I told him I was gay. He didn't take the news well." I pushed away the sadness that crept into my heart. "We didn't have a great relationship before that, so I guess I shouldn't have expected more from him."

Eric nodded. "How old were you when you told him you're gay?"

"Nineteen. He said I was messed up and needed to see a psychologist. I suppose it's one step better than an exorcism."

My attempt at humor fell flat. Eric's frown deepened, and he stepped closer.

"I'm sorry you didn't get any support from your dad. That must have been hard."

"I had Mom," I replied. "Between her and my grandparents I managed to survive coming out without too many issues. My friends wondered why it'd taken me so long to realize I was gay."

Eric nodded again. "My friends were the same."

"How old were you when you knew you were gay?"

"I knew when I was sixteen, but I didn't tell anyone until I was twenty-four. I wasn't sure how everyone in the NYPD would take the news. When I told them, a few people said things that annoyed me, but most people were okay."

"What about your family?"

Eric shrugged. "It took my family a few months to get used to the idea, but they were great. I'm lucky they love me for who I am, especially when I took so long to tell them." He reached into his pocket. "I know you said you don't want this, but I'd like you to borrow it." He handed me his dog whistle. "Alex's nearest neighbor is five miles away and the cell phone coverage is hopeless. If anything happens, Sherlock might be able to find you."

"What about you?"

"I'll be okay." He called Sherlock over. "While Alex is taking your mom to the airport, I'll show you where he keeps his satellite phone and how to use it. If you need to call anyone, that's your safest bet."

I slipped the whistle into my pocket. "Thank you."

For the first time since we met, Eric looked vulnerable. "I'm sorry you're involved in this, Riley. But I'm glad we met."

I saw so much in his gaze—longing, acceptance, and regret. But mostly, an overwhelming need to protect.

Accepting help was foreign to me, but doing what Eric and Alex told me to do was the only thing that would get me through the next few days. Or maybe weeks.