Page 111 of The Liar's Reckoning

My stomach drops. “You told them aboutme?”

He sighs. “They’re my best friends. You don’t have anything to worry about. Can you not give me shit about this? I just got plenty from them.”

I hate this. “What did they say?”

“The you’re an anti-gay, anti-vax crusader and you hate brown people.”

“I’ve never once been anything but supportive of vaccinations,” I say.

“That’swhat you wanna say to me right now?”

No, I want to deny all of it. Even if he decides to google me, I’m confident he won’t find anything overtly homophobic or racist. Unfortunately, he won’t find anything that proves I’m otherwise either.

For the record, I’m gay, and I’m a big fan of diversity. I’m from New York. I know what colors the world is, and I’ve always liked it that way. But when it comes to border policy and national security, voters need to hear certain things, and I’ve said them. When it comes to puberty blockers and parental rights, I’ve leaned on the First Amendment. Less government. When it comes to choice—well, I’m Catholic, and that’s the answer I give. Typically, I don’t elaborate in interviews. It’s probably why I’m mostly ignored by the press. I don’t allow myself to slip and say stupid things that can be held against me from either side of the aisle.

“I don’t hate brown people either,” I mumble. “I don’t hate anyone. You know me, Silas. They don’t.”

“Christian acted like he knew a lot.”

“Fine,” I say, frustrated. “Take his word for it then. Forget the guy you’ve been fucking for five months. Who’s he anyway? Some impostor, I guess.”

“Graham…”

“I am, though, right? I mean—my entire life is a lie. Why would you believe a word I say?”

He takes a deep breath and blows it into the mouthpiece. “I’m sorry. You’re right. This just feels like a big deal.”

“What does?”

“Moving in.”

“I mean…I don’t live there…”

“Can I pay you rent or something?”

I balk. “Absolutely not.”

“Whynot?”

“Because I own the place. There is no rent. It’s empty when you’re not there, and I want you there.”

“And what if you decide you don’t?” he asks.

“Are you saying you’ve got no place else to go?”

“No,” he concedes.

“So no one’s doing anyone any favors here. You like the apartment, right?”

“I love it,” he says quietly while a horn blares on his end.

“Then take advantage. You can pay the utilities if you want.”

“I do,” he sighs, sounding relieved.

“Great. One less thing for me to worry about,” I say, hoping this concession is enough for him.

“Thank you,” he says so sincerely it’s almost unbearable not to be able to reach out and grab him. I want this man with my entire being. “So when can I see you?”

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