Omar winks. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Anders’ expression shifts.
“Habibi? What’s going on?”
“It’s Rami,” Anders responds, shaking his head. “Oak said that his boyfriend—who Ineverliked—already has a girlfriend.”
Omar’s face falls. “Oh no. Rami was so painfully in love with him.”
“Iknow,” Anders says, his voice gone rough. He fucking hates knowing how devastated Rami must be.
“I tried to talk to him about that boy,” Omar says, shaking his head. “Tried to tell him to slow it down a little, but he wouldn’t listen.”
“I swear, he is the least wild of all the Wildlings, and he’s still obstinate as fuck.”
Omar snorts. “No idea where he got that from.”
They walk to the little changing screen by the outdoorshower and Omar grins as Anders struggles, getting hemmed up in the wet material.
“I could help you with that.”
Anders finally rips the T-shirt over his head, revealing his pretty muscles. Omar drags his fingers across the abs he came all over this morning. Anders grunts and steps away.
“Stop ‘helping.’ I need to check on our son, and I cannot do that with a boner,” he says, unzipping his jeans, which are unpleasantly heavy, like wet papier-mâché.
“Good point.” Omar pauses, biting his upper lip. “Do you think he’s going to be okay?”
“Of course he’s going to be okay,” Anders grumps, finally shoving the clinging material down past his sculpted ass, then knees, until he’s able to step out of the pool of denim, totally commando. Accepting the swim shorts from his husband, he continues, “But I think it’s going to be a while.”
Rami has a one-track mind, which is a blessing and a curse.
“Since he’s on break from school, maybe we can get him involved in something that’ll keep his mind off things,” Omar suggests. “Maybe this is as good a time as any for him to explore the charities he’d like to help with his trust-fund money.”
Anders nods, pulling up his shorts. “Not a bad idea.”
“Do you want me to talk to him?” Omar asks. “Now might not be the time for the full Anders-as-protective-Dad experience.”
Anders shakes his head. “You’re the more levelheaded one, but I’m the one who’s had his heart broken.”
Omar reluctantly agrees, then kisses his husband’s cheek. “I’m blessed to have a man who would never break my heart.”
Anders’ throat goes a little raw, and he steps in for a quick kiss. “Never, my love.”
They kiss again and then separate. Anders follows the stone path to the pool house, which is surrounded by Texas-nativetrees and plants—a small modern oasis set back from the hustle and bustle of the main house. The side and front walls are made of a thick, solid glass, but the drapes have been pulled across the pretty view.
“Knock, knock,” Anders says, rapping gently on the door.
“You don’t have to say knock, knock when you are, in fact, knocking,” Rami calls out, his voice rough.
Anders is pretty sure he hears an affectionatedorkas he opens the door, but he doesn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he enters the pool house, which is dark save for a small lamp on a side table. Making his way through the shadowed room, he sits down on the couch next to Rami, who’s curled up on his side.
“I take it you heard about Tadrick,” Rami mutters.
Anders places his large hand on his son’s ankle. “I did. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorry this happened to you, son.”
Rami doesn’t respond, and Anders realizes he’s trying to hide his tears.
“Rahm, if I could get away with it, I would do everything in my power to make that chump miserable. Really fucking miserable,” Anders says, and he’s a guy who knows about inflicting pain. Rami’s never seen that side of his father, though, so Anders does what he can to keep a lid on it.
