Page 56 of Hey, Stepbro

BLAKELY

The door to my room swings open, and Brock’s face lights up with a huge smile. Warmth floods my chest, knowing what’s coming next.

He was in the kitchen mixing us celebratory drinks. He told me to wait in his room and to change out of my khaki shorts and T-shirt.

“Hey,” I say softly.

“Hey. I made yours extra strong."

Brock slides on his knees onto the mattress and shuffles, until he’s right up against me.

Gently, I wrap my arms around Brock’s shoulders and pull him close, so that his head is resting in the crook of my neck. His heart beats against my own, and he relaxes, allowing himself to be held.

I begin to hum, a low, soothing sound beneath my breath. As I hum, Brock can feel the vibrations of my voice against his skin, and he sinks further into the warmth of my embrace.

After a moment, I pull away and look Brock in the eyes. My smile is a mix of admiration and pride, and it takes his breath away.

“I’m so proud of you,” I whisper.

His cheeks heat up, and I know he’s blushing. He looks away, not sure how to answer.

But I know what he needs. I take his chin in my fingers and turn his face back to me.

“It takes so much courage to do what you did,” I say. “You’re so strong.”

"It wasn't that hard. Believe me, I can tell the guys anything. Were some confused? Sure. But I had Justin and Pablo in my corner."

"I'm proud of you."

Brock smiles at my words. I reach out and brush a few strands of hair away from his face. My touch is light, and it clearly sends a shiver down his spine.

“Tell me,” I say. “What was it like?”

Brock takes a deep breath and thinks back to that moment when he stood up in front of the whole football team and told them the truth.

“It was…” He pauses, searching for the right words. “It was freeing.”

“And were you scared?”

Brock thinks about it for a moment. I wonder if terror filled his chest right before he spoke, if fear made his knuckles white. But when he looks back, he grins.

“No. I was ready. Ready to be who I truly am.”

Okay. I'mdefinitelyoverdramatizing this in my head.

It sounds like Brock wasn't as worried as my brain tells me.

"I remember when I came out to my parents in high school," I say. "It wasn't a big deal. I told them I was gay over dinner one night."

"Really? They didn't freak out or anything?" Brock asks, looking surprised.

"Nope. They were pretty cool about it, actually. My mom said, 'Okay, honey. We love you no matter what.' And that was it."

"Wow, you're lucky."

"I know, and I feel bad for kids who have it rough. But you know what? Things are changing and that’s what counts."

He smiles at me, and I can see the love shining in his eyes. "You're right," he says. "I'm glad it wasn't difficult."

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