Every Saturday Night (Firsts and Forever 6)

“My dad bought it for me when I moved to San Francisco.”

“You told me your landlord owned it.”

“Not exactly. You made some assumptions, and I didn’t correct you. I think I said it was owned by the same rich asshole who owned the garage, but I don’t actually have a landlord.”

“Jesus, Lucky. Also, that nickname is taking on a whole new meaning. So, the garage is yours too, and you’re the ‘rich asshole’ you kept referring to.” When he nodded, I crossed my arms over my chest and pointed out, “You told me that bit about some rich guy owning the garage the night I met you. That’s how long you’ve been keeping things from me, literally since the day we met.”

“I didn’t know you well enough to confide in you back then.”

“But you kept it going for months.”

“I did, and that was wrong of me. It’s just that most people start treating me differently when they find out about my dad’s success and the fact that he set up a trust fund for me. They make all these assumptions about what I must be like—spoiled, entitled, elitist, out of touch with reality—it goes on and on,” he said. “But I didn’t grow up rich. My dad sold his first company around the time I was born and invested all his profits into Suarez Global, which he had to build from the ground up. It took well over a decade for it to become a success.

“That means I wasn’t raised by nannies in a mansion, but by my abuela in a middle class home. I was fifteen when the company really came into its own. That was also when I found out I was expected to take over and run it someday. And you know the rest, Logan. You know how I struggled with that, and how I felt obligated to carry on my dad’s legacy. I’m the same man you’ve always known, except that the shoes I’m supposed to fill are much bigger than I led you to believe.”

When he fell silent, I said softly, “Why couldn’t you just tell me that, months ago? I wouldn’t have written you off as a spoiled rich boy, or whatever you were expecting.”

“Like I said, I tried. I took you to my home because I wanted you to see all of me, both the motorcycle mechanic and the son of a genius businessman. But you made me feel ashamed for having so much, even though that house was never my idea. I know it’s too big, and too expensive, and too much for one person, but my dad thought he was doing a nice thing when he bought it for me. He thought he was taking care of his only child.

“I didn’t want to feel that way, Logan, because I’m not ashamed of what my father has built. He’s a good man who dedicated his whole life to that company. He dropped out of school and went to work at fifteen to support his family, and now at seventy-three, he still works seven days a week. That’s not so he can pad his own pockets. It’s to make sure our entire family is taken care of—me, my cousins and their families, my aunts and uncles, and our future generations—along with his hundreds of employees and their families.”

“I never meant to make you feel ashamed,” I said, “and I’m sorry for the way I reacted when you took me to the house.”

“Don’t apologize. Your reaction was honest. If you’d known it was mine, maybe you would have stuck a smile on your face and pretended you liked it, and that would have been worse.”

After a pause, I asked, “When were you going to tell me? If this custody case hadn’t come up, would I just never have known you’re rich?”

“I never intended to keep it from you this long, but the more time that passed, the more awkward it got. I didn’t know how to bring it up, and it would have been weird to randomly drop it into a conversation. What was I going to do? Take you to the movies and be like, go ahead and get the large popcorn instead of the medium, because hey, guess what?”

I grinned a little and said, “You wouldn’t even have needed the ‘hey, guess what.’ Do you know what movie theater concessions go for these days? The act of buying the large popcorn would have instantly told me we’re in very different tax brackets.”

He looked wistful. “I hate the fact that I’ve never taken you to the movies.”

“Well, let’s face it, our relationship has been odd, even before you moved across the country. That reminds me, are you flying back and forth on a corporate jet every weekend?”

“No. The corporate jet is just for work. I use my dad’s private plane.”

I’d been absorbing everything pretty well up to this point, but the plane pushed it over the edge for me. I couldn’t begin to wrap my head around that level of wealth.

The fact that I was rattled must have been obvious, because he gestured at me and said, “And here’s what I’ve been afraid of—that moment when it all starts to seem really weird and alien to you. Please don’t decide we’re too different to make this work, Logan. Like I said, I’m the same guy you’ve always known.”

“I get that. But at the same time, I feel like I was only allowed to see a portion of the man I’m in love with.”

I totally forgot I’d never said that out loud before, until I saw it register in his eyes halfway through his reply. “You saw the real me, all the important parts, and—you’re in love with me?”

“God yes, but I didn’t mean to just blurt it out like that.”

He got up from the couch and asked, “How long have you felt this way?”

“It started to become clear to me the day of Yolanda and JoJo’s wedding.”

“That was weeks ago,” he said softly. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

I studied the area rug as I admitted, “I guess I was afraid of finding out you didn’t feel the same way.”

“Of course I do. I adore you, Logan.” He came up to me and gently ran his hands down my arms. “I didn’t want to put it out there before you were ready, so I was hoping you’d say it first.”

I glanced at him and grinned again. “Same here. Wow, we truly have no idea what we’re doing, do we?”