“No,” Jake says, but the smile he gives David is weak enough to have him concerned.

“Are you sure?” David presses.

“It’s cool,” Jake says. “We were just talking about like, I dunno. It’s all good.”

“Okay,” David asks. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” Jake asks. “Curious about what’s got me — she’s good.”

David chews on his lip, watches Jake staring at the blank TV like there’s something riveting on the screen.

“You don’t talk about me, do you?” David asks.

“No,” Jake says, which is a relief, then, “I really want to, though.”

David doesn’t know what to say.

“Like,” Jake says. “I feel like every time I talk to any of them there’s this big part of my life I’m not telling them, you know? Like I’m hiding something I don’t want to hide. And it kind of sucks, because usually I tell them pretty much everything. I feel like I’m lying to them.”

“I’m sorry,” David says.

“Would it be cool with you if I told my family about us?” Jake says.

“Us?” David asks.

“Like,” Jake says. “You know. That we’re — you know.”

“What?” David says, then, “No.”

“They’re not — they wouldn’t tell anyone,” Jake says.

“You don’t know that,” David says. And it’s irrelevant anyway, because even if they didn’t tell anyone, they would know.

“I do,” Jake says. “I really—”

“I said no,” David snaps, and Jake flinches, looks back at the TV, still blank.

“What’d you decide on?” Jake asks finally.

“You pick, I don’t care,” David says.

“David,” Jake says.

“I don’t,” David says. “Just — you pick.”

“Fine,” Jake says, and he turns on something with more explosions than actors, his usual fare, the sort of movie David can follow even if he doesn’t pay much attention.

David pays a lot of attention to this one. He can’t remember a single thing about the plot when the credits are rolling, Jake still a foot away from him on the couch.

“I should head back to the hotel,” David says.

Jake doesn’t say anything.

“I should probably spend more time there,” David says. “Since I’m paying for it.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jake says. “Makes sense. You want a ride?”

“I can just order—” David starts.

“I’ll drive you,” Jake interrupts.

“Okay,” David says.

Jake’s quiet on the ride home. Well, they both are, but only one of those things is unusual. It feels present, the silence, physical in a way it hasn’t been in a long time. It’s a relief when Jake pulls up to the lobby, a relief not to have the silence weigh him down.

“Thanks for the ride,” David says.

“David,” Jake says, then, when David looks at him, “See you tomorrow?”

“Sure,” David says. “Of course.”