“Your children?” I remembered the picture on his nightstand. If they were older than me, it would make things awkward, and if they were younger, I would get not introducing me. “How old are they?”
“They are twins, and they’re eighteen,” George smiled fondly. “I forgot we had brunch planned that morning and I was rushing to get back to Angelique and Giuseppe. I call them Angie and Beppino, though.”
And I understood, finally. He hadn’t been brushing me off as a secret side piece. He was protective. His twins were between children and my age, so doubly awkward.
“Well, I’m glad you don’t call your sonragazzo, at least.”
“That would be weird,” George chuckled at my dry humor, and I couldn’t help smiling along with him. The first time I’d smiled in three weeks.
“And they don’t call you Daddy?” I whispered, stepping forward until our toes touched.
“No,mio ragazzo, only you,” George promised. “If you still want me?”
My head spun. George wanted to be my Daddy. Did I want him to fill that role? I’d been pining and trying desperately to forget him. Three days together and three weeks apart should have been plenty of time to shake it off and move on. But I didn’t want to move on.
“What I want,” lifting my head until our faces were inches apart, I rested my hands on his chest and gripped his lapels. “Is for you to need me as hopelessly as I need you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
GEORGE
Basil’s words sank in,and I smiled. “You don’t have to worry,ragazzo. I was useless without you.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” Basil smiled right back, mischief in his blue eyes as he went up on tip toe to reach my height. “Are you gonna kiss me, or what?”
“Yes,amorino mio, I think I need to,” I slanted my lips against his, trying to convey the repressed feelings of missing him into my boy’s mouth.
Hoping he felt how much I wanted him, I licked my way into his mouth and he sighed, melting into me. I wrapped my arms around him, wanting as much contact as I could get after weeks of deprivation from his touch. Basil made a needy sound in my mouth and I ate it up. He tucked his hands under my jacket and clawed at my back, as needy as I was, eventually making his way down to grab my ass.
“Get your man, Vasily!” Cheers and hollers rang out, interrupting our moment. I didn’t look away from Basil, though. He was blushing and pressing his forehead under my chin.
“Do you prefer Vasily, like your family calls you?” I asked him, still in our little bubble.
“No,” Basil shook his head and looked up at me. His eyes were open and earnest, like I was finally seeing the real Vasily Kiselov. “My father is Vasily. I prefer Basil. And I like being yourragazzo.”
His sweet blush had me claiming his mouth all over again. I wanted to get him alone. “Alright,mio ragazzo.” Stepping back reluctantly, I held his hand. “Is this okay, with your family here?”
Basil considered my words and then turned to face them. “So, I’m gay. And I have a thing for the guy I tried to kill.”
Chuckling at his attempt to soften the announcement with humor, I decided to join in. Looking at Basil and speaking louder than necessary for the room to hear, I announced, “I have more than a thing for the boy who tried to kill me.”
“Wouldn’t have ever guessed you were gay, Greco,” Gregor said as if it were a compliment. “But that’s what I get for assuming.”
“I’m bi, actually,” I corrected, knowing it wouldn’t be the last time. “Or pansexual and demiromantic, according to my daughter.”
“Well shit,” Gregor rubbed the back of his neck. “There I go again. I’m an ass, and I’m bi too.”
“Is everyone queer except me?” Stefan mused, a befuddled smile on his face.
“Da,” they all chorused back.
Felix nodded, doing an exaggerated hand gesture. I finally noticed they were wearing a fitted black suit with a frilly blouse and red lips. It suited Felix well. “Super queer mafia.”
We laughed and there was a sense of camaraderie I’d never had before. Mafia life meant never knowing if someone would smile to your face then stab you in the back. Being a father was a power imbalance, where my children looked up to me. Being in a room of people who understood loving outside of societal norms, in addition to our family and religious pressure, was liberating.
“Mind if I steal Basil away?” I asked when there was a lull in conversation. I hadn’t let go of him, but there were things I couldn’t do around his cousins and uncle.
“Do you promise to bring him back without conditions?” Felix raised a brow, not waiting for my response before turning to Basil and asking, “Do you want to go with him,dvoyurodnyy brat?”
