“Thank you, Rach,” I said.
I could see the sadness welling up in Mom’s eyes, too. She was realizing the same things that I was.
I needed to act fast.
“Mom, try these,” I said, picking up a nearby plate of olives and passing them across the table to her. As I reached, my arm knocked into one of the candles, and it toppled over on the table.
Wax pooled beneath it, and for a split second, the flame licked at my wrist.
“Ouch,” I hissed, drawing back.
Rock immediately lunged for the candle, picking it up. He was on me a moment later, taking my arm and examining the reddish spot where the flame had touched me.
“Are you okay?” he said quickly.
I drew in a long breath. “Of course. I’m fine,” I said. “It barely touched me, babe.”
It hadn’t exactly been my plan, but it had worked nonetheless. Mom had been sufficiently distracted, and the kids were already playing with the cooled wax on the tablecloth.
Rock was still holding my arm, even though I knew my “burn” was nothing more than a little red mark. Mom’s gaze had softened, and she watched us with a wistful look in her eye.
“He cares about you a lot,” she said, a small smile on her face. “I think you’ve got yourself a good man, Per.”
“I do care about you,” Rock said. “And I told you, candles aren’t safe.”
I puffed out a small laugh. “They’re pretty, though.”
All throughout the rest of dinner, I felt like I was juggling with spheres of glass. When one of the kids brought up the annual family summer beach vacations, Mom curled in on herself, as if she was trying to hide in her shawl. I knew she was trying to suppress tears. I spent a lot of time analyzing the flavor nuances of the salad dressing out loud, trying to talk about anything that wouldn’t remind people of the divorce.
I kept rubbing the red spot on my arm, and I knew Rock noticed it.
It felt like the tension in the room was rising and rising, like a bubble that was going to pop at any moment. I could feel Rock’s eyes on me from beside me, burning into me even hotter than the candle flame had been.
I felt guilty for bringing him into this. The awkwardness, the tiptoeing, the haze of sadness that was sitting over the family right now. Maybe it had been a mistake to pull him into a situation more serious than he’d realized.
I watched as he turned back toward the center of the table, sat up a little straighter, and grinned.
“Y’know, I wasn’t even gay before I met Perry, here,” he declared, beaming out at everyone.
For a split second, the table went silent. The bubble had been popped, all right. All of our eyes shot to Rock, who was still just sitting there smiling his stupidly gorgeous smile.
“Is that right?” Mom finally said, leaning forward a little, no longer trying to disappear into her shawl.
“Yup,” Rock said.
My heart was slamming in my chest. What was Rock doing? He was totally veering away from our script.
But I watched in fascination as the whole table seemed to forget about anything else, just watching Rock like he was some sort of magician.
“Thirty-six years, and I’d never really been interested in another man. But something about Perry was just… so lovable, to me. Not to mention he’s a fine-looking piece of work himself.”
Rachel, Cameron, and Mom all smiled, and I saw the kids all trying to suppress giggles.
My cheeks were burning hot already.
“I had no idea you’d been straight before,” Mom said. “I mean, not that it matters—the heart wants what it wants, clearly. But that just goes to show that true love knows no bounds. It gives me hope.”
Rock reached over, running his hand through my hair.
He was looking at me like I’d hung the damn moon. Rock was a really good actor.
“Thanks, love,” I managed to say, swallowing over my suddenly dry throat.
Now that the big “secret” of Rock having lived life as a straight man was out, the course of the conversation changed. Mom asked him about his past, and from what I could tell, Rock simply told her the truth.
He’d dated women, but had never really had success with a long-term relationship. He’d never been married, never had kids. Never lived with any of his girlfriends.
Even though Rock was an insanely hot firefighter—someone who was a total catch—he’d almost had worse luck than me in his love life. I’d only lived with one boyfriend before, and things had fizzled out by the end of our year-long lease.
Rock seemed like such a charmed person, with an amazing career and a playboy lifestyle. Yet he wasn’t anything like I’d assumed.
“No wonder you like Perry,” Chloe eventually said, her ever-present mischievous grin on her face.