Who We Are (The Seafare Chronicles 2)

“That’s not what I pulled you out here for,” Creed cuts in, obviously wanting to stop his best friend and girlfriend (gross!) from falling back in love and screwing right here in front of him.

“Then what’s up?” Otter asks him.

Anna and Creed glance at each other before Creed says, “We just need to know how we should play this. We don’t want to mess anything up by saying something we shouldn’t.” He chuckles darkly. “But I don’t know how long that’s going to last. Did you see the people that are here? I think we should take bets to see if we can even get through Mom’s foot-loaf before we’re all talking about the big gay wedding we’re going to be attending.”

I swear to God if someone talks about marriage one more time, I’m going to go postal and junk-punch everyone in this house. It’s only been four goddamn months!

Or it’s been years, if we’re being honest with ourselves, it whispers. It’s the butt sex that’s only four months old.

At least Creed seems to be joking about it, though. I catch his eye and he holds the gaze, and there’s something there, not quite a spark, not quite an acknowledgement, but it’s there nonetheless, and I know I’m going to have to indulge him if I’m going to get anywhere. That’s okay, though. I’m not above groveling. When there’s no other choice, of course.

“We haven’t really decided what we’re going to do,” Otter admits.

Creed and Anna gape at us. “You what?” Anna says, incredulity pouring off her in palpable waves. “You do know this is Bear we’re talking about, right? You mean he hasn’t gone over this again and again until he’s made himself sick? That’s got to be a first.”

Anna Grant, everyone. She’ll be here all night, with additional shows at seven and nine. Hurray.

All three look at me like I’ve got a bug on my face that, if they even so much as move, will rip off my nose. To spite my face. See? I can be funny too.

“Look,” I say begrudgingly. “It’s not like we can keep this a secret forever, right? One day Alice and Jerry are going to start to notice that Otter and I live together and spend every waking moment together, and even if they don’t notice that, there’s no way they’re not going to be able see what happens when I look at him. Jesus, it’s a dead fucking giveaway because I get that stupid, goofy grin on my face and… and…. What the hell are you all staring at?”

“Who are you and what have you done with Bear?” Creed asks, eyes wide.

“Aw,” Anna says sweetly. “You love him.” And she looks like she means it.

This is the weirdest conversation of my life.

But it’s Otter I notice the most, when he reaches down and cups my face in his hands, kissing me gently, his thumbs rubbing along my cheeks. I sigh quietly as he pulls away, that gold-green gaze filled so full of only God knows what. “You know everything I do is for you, right?” he asks quietly, searching my eyes.

I nod. Because I do.

“You know I would never pressure you into anything?”

I do. Because he won’t.

“Are you sure about this?”

The hell with it. “Yeah,” I say, and he grins like I’ve given him the greatest gift the world has ever known. “Creed’s right; it’ll get out sooner rather than later. At least we’ll be the ones controlling it, you know?”

“Oh, man,” Creed says. “I am so glad I came home for dinner. This is going to be seriously epic! Can I record it? Like, set up a camera? I swear I won’t put it on YouTube.”

“Creed,” Otter warns.

“Is there a gay YouTube, though?” he asks Anna, and he sounds so much like himself that it knocks me off center. “I mean, there has to be, right? Like, it’s called GayTube or something? We can call it ‘When Bear Made My Parents Shit Themselves Silly’ by Creed Thompson. I bet I can get one of the tech geeks to put special effects in, maybe have rainbows shooting out of Bear’s eyes like gay laser beams. Oh my God, what if they could make him look like he’s riding a unicorn too!”

“GayTube’s a porn site,” I say without thinking.

Their mouths all drop open again. I pray for a plague of locusts to fly in their mouths, but God seems to hate me today and doesn’t send one.

“You watch gay porn now?” Anna asks, and for some reason, it seems like she’s vaguely turned on and that makes me wish God would forget the locusts and just send the fire.

“You watching without me?” Otter growls at me heatedly.

“Stop doing that voice!” I scold him. “We’re in your parents’ house.”

“We were in my parents’ house all summer,” he reminds me. “You didn’t seem to mind when I did it then.”

“You did do it in my room, didn’t you?” Creed accuses me.