“Hi, Ma. What’s happening?”
“Why don’t you tell me? I hear you’ve met someone.”
Busted.Oh, he was so going to kill Noah for this. “I’ve been dating someone, yes.”
“Someone? Does this person have a name, or are you going to make me play a guessing game?”
“His name is Blake. It’s all pretty new. We’re having a good time.”
“I see.” Which of course meant she didn’t but was marshaling her thoughts to maximize the guilt she was about to lay on him. “Didn’t you think I’d want to meet him?”
“Ma. Of course. But we’re taking it slow. I don’t want to throw everyone at him at once.” His plan was to ease Blake into the family by first meeting Noah, then his mother, and eventually Shelly, when they could arrange a little weekend away to see her, Max, and the kids. Presuming, of course, he and Blake were still together.
“We’ve even had Thanksgiving together, and you didn’t say anything to me then either.”
Jeremy bit back a retort. How could he when the entire dinner conversation had revolved around Noah’s modeling career and why his mother believed he should return to the runway? All his energy had been devoted to protecting Noah, since his brother shut down the moment his mother brought the subject up, and Jeremy wouldn’t let her browbeat him into submission. Blake had stayed over at his sister’s for the evening, but they’d spent the rest of the weekend holed up together in Jeremy’s apartment, watching movies, eating takeout, and having mind-blowing sex. A perfect way, in his opinion, to spend the holiday weekend.
“I planned on telling you soon and having you meet him.” Lord knows that would require days of preparation for Blake to withstand his mother’s questioning.
“Hmm.” The noncommittal sound meant she didn’t believe a word he said.
“Look. I gotta go. The place is packed, and I have tons of stuff to do. I’ll call you and we can set something up, maybe have lunch on the weekend? That sounds good, right?”
“Yes, it does. If you’re not too busy. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
His brain hurt from that. “Yeah, Ma. It’s fine. I’ll call you. Love you.”
“I love you too.”
He hung up and expelled a noisy breath. She was too much sometimes. There was no use now that she’d found out he had a boyfriend. And speaking of which…Jeremy glanced at his watch.Ah.Seven forty-five. Perfect. He hit Speed Dial on his phone.
“What the fuck, Jer? Why’re you calling me so early?”
“Oh, did I wake you?” He tucked the phone under his ear, reclined back in his chair, and propped his feet up on the desk. “So sorry, baby brother. I just got off the phone with our mother.”
Several beats of silence passed. “Shit.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Look. I didn’t mean to. You know I wouldn’t ever have mentioned it, but she caught me off guard and it slipped out. I’m sorry.”
Their mother was a force even the strongest person would find hard to deal with, and Noah, who’d always bent to her will, might not see the true meaning behind some of her questions. Besides, Jeremy could never stay mad at his brother for too long. It wasn’t in his nature to hold grudges. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t play with him a bit and string it all out.
“She’s already pulled out the wounded-mother sympathy card: Don’t I trust her? Why wouldn’t I want to tell her? How could I tell you instead of her first?”
“Damn.” Jeremy heard the rustle of sheets through the phone and could picture his brother sitting up, running his hand through his hair. “I’m really sorry. But between us, don’t you think youshouldhave Blake meet Mom? I mean, you are crazy about him, and he’s the first guy I’ve seen you serious about since I can remember.”
Tensing, Jeremy doodled on the pad in front of him, picturing his mother questioning Blake. “I don’t know. I want to, then when I think about it, it makes me a little sick to my stomach.”
“Why? I’m sure she’ll love him.”
“Yeah.” He hesitated, uncertain whether to lay his cards on the table with Noah. To hell with it. Noah never judged him. “I’m afraid she’ll wonder what he’s doing with me.”
“What the hell are you talking about? You’re a great guy—the best.”
“I dunno.” He dug the pen tip into the pad, breaking through the top layer of paper. “It never seems to matter to her how many degrees I have or that I run my own business. I’m the son with muscles who works at a gym, and you’re the perfect son who was a model. She sees what she wants.”
A heavy sigh filled his ear. “I understand. Butweknow the truth. And one day you’ll tell her how you feel. Because you know you’re so much more than that.”
