21. Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

Myles

T he chrome doors to Sips Café looked foreboding and angry, nothing like the welcoming ones to Randy's with the neon lighting and coziness waiting for me inside.

My stomach flipped, but Avery held my hand, and that touch kept me anchored. I'd been baring vulnerable parts of myself my entire life to the world from my sheer existence, which was why this discussion with my parents burrowed in so deep. Writing was mine. It belonged to me, a private thing I didn't have to be judged or censored for by the public while I hid behind the anonymity of my pen name.

"Maybe we should head home." I clutched the cool metal handle of the door. "Fuck like rabbits and pass out again."

"I'm pretty sure we're both sore after the amount of fucking we did last night. Let's get coffee, some food in our systems, and see what your parents have to say." Avery's little smirk was super hot and not dissuading me from the go-home-and-fuck avenue.

"Ugh, stop making sense. Why am I dating you again?" I yanked the door open.

"Because you loooove me," she teased back.

"Oh no, I do." I bumped shoulders with her as we entered Sips. "And now you can ruthlessly take advantage of it."

"Gasp. Making sure you don't wither away is clearly criminal behavior." Her light comments helped buoy me here, and I was grateful as we stepped into sight of all the booths in either direction.

My parents sat to the right on one side of a green vinyl booth, illuminated by the hanging yellowed light there—which made me think more of an interrogation. Their gazes locked on mine, and my dad lifted his hand in a wave, although his eyes looked haggard behind his glasses. Mom's lips were pursed, her dark eyes serious. The nerves rushed through me fast and fierce as I waved back, but I continued forward, Avery's grip giving me the necessary strength.

The closer I got, the more I noticed the slight hunch to Mom's shoulders, the bit of tension there. How Dad tried to hold on to a smile, but it fell. They were nervous too, and that pushed me the rest of the way.

I slid into the booth opposite them, wanting to get this conversation going before I lost the nerve.

"I'm sorry for running out. And for not telling you what I did for a living."

Mom's shoulders relaxed. The simple motion hit my sternum like a punch.

Well, fuck. I probably should've brought the truth up a long time ago. However, I'd never claimed to be smart. Or easily taught.

"Did you think we'd be upset?" Dad asked and adjusted his glasses.

Avery squeezed my hand in an "I told you so," and I squeezed back extra hard. Sheer acceptance blazed through my parents' features, and my eyes stung with tears. Of course Mom and Dad would accept me, the way they took everything else about me in stride. I didn't fucking deserve them.

From the start, I'd been different from everyone else, yet they'd always given me a safe place to land. I couldn't help that society sometimes made me feel like I was "too much," but these two people had never inflicted those expectations upon me. And here they were, accepting all the other parts of me as well.

"Yeah," I admitted, a few tears slipping out. I rubbed them away at once. Crying in the Café, my new Panic at the Disco cover band. "I don't know. I thought if maybe I had a more normal career…"

Mom's jaw clenched. "Oh fuck that. Overkill caffeine intake aside, you're doing fine for yourself, Myles. That's all Dad and I want to see. We don't need more. Whether you're writing…some interesting romance—any reason for aliens?—or journal articles, you're still our kid."

My heart thumped hard, and I let go of Avery's hand to scrub my face. "Oh god, this is so embarrassing." Relief flushed through me in such a torrent I sagged into my seat. Hearing my mom tease me the way she always did offered the tonic I needed. I should've known we would be okay, and I felt silly for how much I'd built the secret up in my head, but writing had been a private escape for me for so long.

Sharing it with anyone was a vulnerable thing, let alone the two people whose intelligence and creativity had fostered my love of reading in the first place.

"Thanks, guys." I traced invisible patterns on the smooth surface of the table. "I guess it's better you know. The lies were starting to get elaborate."

"Next time you have a big life issue, you could try this novel thing." Mom smirked. "It's called talking."

"Ew, it's like you don't even know me. Also, don't think I missed the pun there."

"Good," Mom said, taking a sip from her tea cup. "I was proud of it."

"Glad to see you again, Avery," Dad said, ever the voice of reason. His blue eyes crinkled with warmth, and I adored seeing that directed toward the person I loved.

Well, if we were confessing everything…

"Avery and I are dating." The words burst out of me, and Mom and Dad glanced at each other. Avery froze beside me, a deer-in-headlights expression on her face. Maybe I should learn how to transition when it came to conversations.

"Wait, is this supposed to be news?" Mom said. "I thought you already were." Her eyes glinted, a little spark back to them, and I let out a huff. The warmth rushing through me filled the empty spaces where the adrenaline had evacuated. My panic attack and bolt yesterday seemed more than ridiculous now, but seeing my folks and Avery roll with those reactions rather than judging me meant everything in the world.

"Yes, we decided yesterday," I grumbled.

"Before or after your dramatic exit?" Mom teased.

"After," Avery said cheerfully. She was as smooth as ever, fitting into the conversation like she'd always belonged. "It was clearly a night for high drama."

Great, now both of them would gang up on me.

"Are we going to get food? I'm hungry." I flipped through the menu, mostly to try to weasel out of the limelight. I'd had enough of center stage and wanted one of them to take the spot.

"We already placed our orders, but the waitress will be back in a second," Dad said.

"Really, though, Myles? Journalism?" Mom said. "I'm a criminology professor and have students trying to scam me on papers every day. The fact you never had published articles to cite alerted me years ago. I just started digging when it became clear you weren't going to give up the charade."

I wrinkled my nose. "Rude. I was clever and crafty and won't hear anything different."

"I mean, considering you can never tell what I'm saying anyway, that's not difficult," Mom said.

"Has he always done that?" Avery asked, her eyes lighting up. "Yesterday I asked for a spoon, and he thought I wanted to release the baboons."

"Look, I wasn't sure about your position on zoos. It's not like we've gone to one together." I needed coffee. Enough to drown in so I could avoid the heat of having my partner and my family paying so much attention to me. The servers were suspiciously absent as if they sensed my plight and decided to prolong my uncaffeinated agony. Maybe they were agents of my mother's.

"Avery, what do you do for work?" Dad asked.

I leaped for the switch in subjects. "She's amazing. An acupuncturist with her own practice and everything." I placed a hand on her thigh under the table, and she tensed. Based on how her family made her feel invisible, I knew she wasn't used to this either, but unlike me, she thrived in the spotlight.

"What's the program like for that?" Mom asked, ever the professor.

"A six-year one." Avery straightened up somewhat. "Pretty demanding and with a lot of hands-on time as well. But I love working one-on-one with clients in the field. I've had my practice for about three years now."

"The technique is like dry-needling, right? I've always wanted to try it, but I'm a bit hesitant about the needles. Even when we helped Myles with his injections when he was younger, I couldn't handle that part. His father usually took over."

Dad grinned, clearly reliving the memory, and I swallowed hard at the wash of love that overcame me. I'd gotten lucky with the pair of them, and I knew it. We'd had our normal share of fights growing up, but they'd always made sure I understood I was loved.

"These needles are nothing like those, and most of the time you'd have your eyes closed, and you'd be relaxing. The pincushion visual might be alarming, but the needles are so thin you barely feel anything." Avery launched into the explanation, her hands moving, her eyes animated. She was so damn alluring, all poetry in motion, and I loved seeing her light up.

"That doesn't sound so bad," Mom mused.

Dad caught my eye. "You picked a good one," he mouthed.

I nodded, even though picking had nothing to do with it. Avery had landed into my life as a total surprise, shaking up my norm while melding to me with an ease that felt inevitable. Fate had drawn us together, and I'd spend the rest of my days making her feel as loved and seen as possible. She was perfection—like capturing sunlight in my palm—and I planned on never letting her go.

"Did Avery mention the wellness fair she's running in a week?" I interrupted the conversation between Avery and my mom.

"Oh, that sounds interesting." Mom tuned in at once.

Avery's eyes met mine, and the glow, the buoyancy, the inner light, in them touched right to the heart of me.

I would fight to bring that expression to her face every single day.