Page 180 of Finding Delaware

His tone causes Grandma to turn around, and she freezes momentarily before a warm smile lights up her fair complexion.

“Good morning, you two. Breakfast is almost ready, please have a seat.”

There’s a knowing spark in her green eyes, so different from the dark ones that Mom shared with Gramps and I. Honestly, the only trait I share with my Grandma is the light hair, which I also get from Dad. Even my skin tone is deeper, though not as dark as Gramps and Moms.

“Grandma, Gramps.” Drawing their attention, I pull Taylor in front of me. “I’d like to introduce you to my boyfriend, Taylor.”

They know who he is, though they’ve never met him. Back in high school, I’d phoned them multiple times about the bully who never gave me a break. Recently, I’d informed of his past with his dad, to some extent, though I didn’t go into detail about a lot of things, like what he’d done at prom or the fact that we’re dating.

Raising a shaking hand, Taylor waves awkwardly. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Jones. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh, sweet boy.” Grandma wipes her hands on the apron she’s wearing and crosses the small kitchen, pulling Taylor in for a hug. “It’s so nice to finally meet. Huckslee’s told us so much about you.”

Gramps rises to his full height of six foot seven, towering over everyone as he reaches out to shake my boyfriend’s hand. “This is long overdue, but welcome to the family, son.”

Taylor’s back stiffens for a second before he relaxes, arms slowly coming up to return my grandma’s hug, and I have to clear my throat at the emotion swelling from the sight. I will always love my dad and be thankful for everything he did for me, but no one in the family has ever been as supportive as my mom’s parents. They understand discrimination themselves, having been an interracial couple in the nineteen-sixties, and they welcomed me with open arms when I fled Utah after coming out. Taylor asked me earlier who I had in my corner. I can easily say without a doubt that Grandma and Gramps are there for me one hundred percent.

We sit at the table as Grandma goes back to cooking, shaking her head at me when I ask if she needs any help, and Tay’s hand finds mine again. I squeeze it, flashing him a smirk when he squirms on the chair, no doubt due to the plug. Agorgeous pink blooms on his face as he kicks my leg under the table and avoids my gaze.

We spend the morning chatting and eating massive amounts of pancakes while they engage him in conversation about motocross. And they’reactuallyinterested, not just pretending for my sake, because they were the ones who bought me my first dirt bike. Gramps used to race back in the day, though far from the professional level.

Grandma tells the story of how they met; Gramps, the bad boy next door, rode a motorcycle that her parents disapproved of. When she gushes about how hot he was as a teen, Taylor bursts into laughter, the darkness in his eyes slowly dissipating. I can’t help but lean in to kiss his cheeks, which puff up with every smile.

It hits me then, this sense of rightness in the moment. How normal it feels to have him here, sharing a meal with my grandparents like the last eight years were nothing more than a fever dream. And maybe they were. Because I’m finally awake for the first time in what feels like forever. I’ve come home.

We’re in the Audi heading back to pick up his truck a few hours later, and Taylor faces me thoughtfully.

“Your grandparents are cool. I think they like me, but honestly, they aren’t what I expected. I thought they’d be, like, super rich.”

“They aren’t millionaires or anything, but I know they have money.” My hand reaches for his as I switch lanes, not even caring that I’m being clingy. “Gramps is retired from the state, and my grandma still trains horses at her ranch just like my mom did.”

He hums, running a thumb over my knuckle absently. “And you never brought a guy over to meet them before?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

Lifting a shoulder, I glance at him sideways, weighing my words carefully. “Nobody ever felt permanent enough to bother. If that makes sense.”

“It does, I think. Like, I get it. Why go through all the effort of introducing someone to your family if you aren’t even sure they’ll be around long enough to really appreciate them?”

“Exactly.” My heart warms as I take an exit toward the coastline. “So, I have an idea for today. How about we get your truck later, and I can show you some of my favorite things about the city instead?”

A grin spreads across his features, flashing that crooked incisor and brightening those blue-green eyes. “Fuck, yeah. I’d love that.”

So I take him everywhere—or at least try to, with the hours we have left in the day. He’s here for the week, and I know we have time, but I try to stuff as much as I can into our minutes together, regardless.

We visit my favorite coffee spot, which has a perfect view of the Bay. Sitting in my usual spot, I order him the best raspberry cream latte he’s ever had, guaranteed.

Next is the bar I worked at, although I was initially unsure about bringing him inside. But we had a conversation about trusting one another that made me realize I can’t treat him any differently just because he relapsed. Just like I hated being treated differently after I overdosed. He proves my pointfurther by turning down the free shots one of my old co-workers offers us, but thanks her anyway.

There’s a surf shop Shawn owns with his dad that I drag him to if only to set the record straight that Greg is, in fact, my ex. Despite the confusion, the two hit it off and Shawn offers to give Tay some surfing lessons later in the week. It’s nice of him, but if anyone is teaching my boyfriend how to surf, it’ll be me, though I’m not all that great at it.

Finally, I show him the little cantina just off the beach that serves the most delicious tacos al pastor—which, of course, aren’t as good as Christian’s mom’s—and we end the day by sitting in the sand, watching the sunset. It’s his first time seeing the ocean, and I want to make it memorable for him.

There’s so much more I want to show him, but we have time. I have to keep reminding myself of that. We still have two more months.

The thought hits me as I wrap my arms around him, pulling his back to my chest while the waves lap at our feet. When all of this started, I wasn’t sure how we could make it work with so much bad blood between us, but now...now, that’s all I want to do. Make sure that this works so I can keep him, even if we’ll be separated again in August.

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