to date him.”
“Didn’t you?”
“No, I—” My teeth snapped shut. I hadn’t wanted to date Lane McDaniel, had I? He was an incredible hockey player, and any time I watched him play on TV (or especially if I’d been lucky enough to go to a game), I was in a daze for hours afterward. And why the hell was I suddenly remembering that weird night junior year when I’d been making out with my girlfriend but kept thinking about the hockey game we’d just watched? Specifically, a particular player who’d been killing it on the ice and left me with that dazed feeling and—
“Oh. My God.” I blinked a few times.
Dad patted my shoulder again. “That’s what I thought.”
“But I…” I shook myself. “I didn’t even—I mean, could one of you have mentioned it to me?”
“We thought you knew,” Mom said. “We just figured you weren’t ready to come out of the closet.”
“I didn’t even know I was in the damn closet.”
Dad tilted his head. “So when did you figure it out, then?”
I exhaled. “Recently. Like, very recently. I thought for a long time I might be, but then I wondered if I’d just let Lila get under my skin, and—”
“Oh Lord,” Mom growled, rolling her eyes. “That woman worked you over about everything, didn’t she?”
I wasn’t even surprised at this point that my parents had noticed, so I just nodded. “Yeah. She and one of my other exes, they kept dropping hints that they thought I was gay. I just figured they—” I was proud of myself for stopping before I said something to my parents about my ex-girlfriends’ consensus about my bedroom performance. That would’ve been awkward. “I didn’t want them to be right, I guess.” Close enough.
“They weren’t right,” Mom said. “They were just trying to be nasty and happened to say something that was true. I don’t think they had a clue who you are.”
“I think they just wanted to hurt your ego and damage your career,” Dad grumbled. “I don’t think either of them liked you being in the spotlight.”
I stared at my parents. It probably shouldn’t have been a shock that they’d observed that much about my last couple of girlfriends. They’d known I was gay before I did, so apparently they were paying attention.
Eyes filled with hope, Mom asked, “So if you’ve figured it out recently and you’re telling us now, does that mean you’re seeing someone?”
My heart sank, and I dropped my gaze. “I, uh… I was, yeah. But we’re not together anymore.” Damn it, Devin. I miss you so much. “I need to talk to him. See if we can…” What if I’d already waited too long? What if Devin hated me? “I want to get back together with him, but I don’t know if he does. Or if he…”
Mom watched me for a long moment. “Why did you break up?”
As much as it hurt to even think about it, I told them the whole story. By the time I’d reached the part where Devin walked out of my condo, my eyes stung and my chest hurt. “I didn’t even know there was a name for this. I had no idea this was what anxiety was, or that I’d had panic attacks and anxiety attacks. By the time I realized it, I’d already cut Devin loose, and now I can see it wasn’t him and his kid. It was me. It was all this shit in my head that I didn’t know—that I still don’t know how to deal with.” Rubbing my eyes, I sighed heavily. “God, I miss him.”
“So why don’t you talk to him?”
“I need to, but I’m…” I met her gaze. “The thing is, his daughter is his world. And I love that kid. But I barely know how to take care of myself. I literally gave myself a panic attack just thinking about trying to be the boyfriend he deserves and the man they need.” I swallowed hard, and my voice came out as a shaky whisper: “I don’t know if I’m cut out to be someone’s stepdad.”
“You don’t know that,” she said softly.
“I’m pretty sure he does,” I whispered. “I can talk to him, but I don’t know if he’ll want to wait around while I get my head together, you know? My therapist said it’s going to take time.” My shoulders sagged. “And anyway, I basically told him I couldn’t be with him because of his kid, just like everyone he’s dated before me. He must