Page 49 of The Tartan Thesis

“How… was it?” Torin asks.

“Different,” I say, falling back on the answer I’ve given enough times that it comes out almost automatically. “I prefer guys, obviously, but I was able to do it, and Lauren said I did it well. It was actually the main sticking point for her when I told her I was gay.”

“Oh?” he asks, brows rising.

The look on his face makes heat creep up the back of my neck. Between the “no small parts” conversation we had at the pub and me revealing that even women think I’m good in bed, he must think I’m a cocky asshole.

I avoid expanding on the topic by getting to the point of the story. “Lauren and I are still friends,” I say. “She’s great, actually, but as expected, my family struggled when I first came out, and—” I hesitate, staring down at the condensation sliding slowly down the side of my glass while I decide how much I’m willing to share. I don’t want Torin feeling sorry for me, but I’ve already opened the door.

“And?” Torin asks, not impatiently, his eyes encouraging.

“And,” I say with a sigh, “I get the feeling they’re waiting for me to decide I’m not gay, especially Lauren’s family. It’s like they think I’ll go back into the closet someday and marry her.”

The words taste bitter the moment they leave my mouth. I stare down at the counter, tracing the grain of the wood with my finger. I can’t look at Torin as I come to my sad conclusion. “The real reason I don’t want to go see my family at Christmas is because I don’t want to feel out of place on my favorite holiday. I’d rather spend it alone than be with my married parents and married siblings, plus my former obligatory girlfriend and her parents, who think I’m crazy for wanting to date men instead of marrying their daughter.”

A tight pressure has built behind my eyes. I rock side to side with my arms crossed and my head tilted back, staring up at the ceiling lights.

I hear Torin set his cup down, then he says, “I’m sorry, Beau,” and it takes everything in me not to break. A dozen responses crowd my throat—things I can’t say yet. How I want to find love. How exhausting it is to keep putting myself out there only to feel like I’m doing it wrong. How often I fall hard and never feel it reciprocated. I wonder if I’ll ever find a partner. A companion. Someone who wants me for more than sex. Who sees the nerd with ADHD and thinks I’m perfect for him. Since breaking up with Lauren and coming out, every attempt at romance has ended the same way: hope, followed by disappointment.

And all of it would be easier if my family had my back. Instead, it feels like they’re waiting for me to change. The contentment I felt last night is quickly ebbing away, like the tide before a tsunami.

I take another ragged breath and keep my eyes up, willing the sting behind them to fade. Earning Torin’s trust is one thing, but having a breakdown in front of him seems a step too far.

Torin doesn’t rush to fill the silence as I drag a hand across my eyes and blink the moisture away.

Once I’m finally able to look at him again, my eyes lock with his. “Thank you,” I say, voice shaking. “Apparently I needed to let some of that out.” I chuckle and let out a breath that feels like it’s been trapped in my chest for months.

I hope I can tell him more one day, but this conversation was a start.

“Anytime,” he says. “I mean, what are friends for?”

I nod and offer him a small smile. Friends. Yes. Good.

We finish our smoothies, and I take our dishes to the sink and rinse them out, partly because they need washing and partly because I need something to do with my hands. Anything to shift the mood away from where it just went.

“Do you want to stick around? We can watch a Christmas movie or something,” I say, trying to keep the hope out of my voice. I don’t want him to leave. I’m not ready to be alone yet.

When I turn and look back at Torin, he’s already giving me an apologetic smile. “I should go home. I need a shower.”

I’m about to say he can shower here, that I have plenty of clothes he could wear. Then he adds, “And I’ve got a lot to do tomorrow. Last-minute shopping, laundry, packing.”

“Right,” I say, nodding quickly. “Christmas Eve is the day after tomorrow. You need to get ready to go see your folks.” I try to say it with some Christmas spirit, but the look in Torin’s eyes tells me I wasn’t convincing.

“Aye,” he says and looks down at his hands. I don’t know what else to say, so I move to put away the last of the smoothie ingredients, lining them up one by one in their usual places.

I’m putting the maca root back on the shelf when Torin says, “Do you want to come home with me?” He says it so fast that I take a moment to make sure I heard him correctly.

I turn slowly. “You want me to come back to your flat?” I ask tentatively. “Do you need help with something?”

“No,” he says. He runs a hand through his hair and tries again. “Do you want to spend Christmas with me and my family? I know you said you’d go to Ireland with Maeve, but my parents’ farm is closer, and I can show you around the Highlands…”

My heart is racing. Scottish traditions, the Highlands… time with Torin. I try to keep my voice in check as I tell him what I told Maeve. “Oh, I couldn’t intrude on such short notice.” I’m dying to say yes, but I can’t tell if he’s just asking to be nice, or…

But he knows I have somewhere I could go, so he wouldn’t offer unless he actually wanted me to join him. I go with my gut and add, “But it would be nice to get more cultural experiences over the holidays.”

Torin’s barely contained smile tells me I said the right thing.

“Definitely,” he says, getting into his academic stride. “A Scottish Christmas, and you should stay through Hogmanay, of course. My sister plans this big charity ceilidh every year. And we can see all the castles and battlefields and mountains and—”