Like you don’t know.
He smiled guiltily to himself, sitting at his desk, thinking about his boyfriend.
Yeah, he’d thought the word.“Boyfriend,” he whispered out loud.There, he’d said it, too.Suddenly it occurred to him he might need to talk to Sam about that.Hell, how did that work?Was he supposed to clear it with Sam before he used the “b” word?Ian sighed.One more thing to ask his therapist.
He heard Dalton’s disembodied voice say at his elbow, “Mr.Cully?You have a call from Jurgen Dammerung on line one.”
“Dalton, call me Ian,” he called out his open office door.
“Sorry, sir,” Dalton’s voice said at his elbow.
Ian shook his head and picked up the phone.“Hey.”
“Hey,” Jurgen said.“Guess we’re coming up tonight.”
“Yeah, to make sure I’m treating my boyfriend well.”Holy hell, he’d just called Sam his boyfriend to someone else.
“Did you hear what you just said?”
“When I accused you of being all up in my shit?Yeah.”
“Ha,” Jurgen grumbled.“So he’s your boyfriend now.”
“Yeah.”I just need to tell him.
Jurgen was silent a second, probably judging Ian’s sincerity.“We’ll stay home tonight then.”
Ian smirked.
“Shut up,” Jurgen growled.“We’re coming up on Friday.Nik got us all tickets for Exposed Innerds.”
“That band?Sam loves them.”Ian could probably stomach it for a night.He’d bring earplugs.
Jurgen sighed.“Yeah, so does Nik.”He sounded about as excited as Ian felt.“He says you and I have to come up with a date for Miller Harpe,” he added grouchily.
“Make it a good one!”Nik yelled in the background.
“That guy whose head you fucked with last summer because you were jealous?”
“You helped,” Jurgen snapped.“And I wasn’t jealous, I was trying tofixthings.”
“You asked me to help you.You’re my cousin—I helped.”
“Shut up,” Jurgen said.“Just come up with a date for him.”
“Where the fuck am I supposed to find a date for him?You’re the one who tried tofixthings.You find one.”
After a painful pause, Jurgen admitted, “Nik says all my suggestions are inappropriate.”
“Hell,” Ian grumbled.The idea of Tierney flashed through his head, nearly making him laugh.
Then Dalton appeared in his doorway.“Mr.Cully?”he whispered.
“Call me Ian,” he responded automatically.“Oh, hey.Do you like the Exposed Innerds?”
Dalton’s eyes lit up.“I love that band.”
“I think I got a live one,” he whispered into the phone.“We’re good.”
