“I’m always right,” he smirks. “Plus, maybe you should think more aboutwhyyou’re so jealous of Lucas?” Jaxon says as he pats me on the shoulder and heads to the door. “I just need to know that he’s okay. But he’s a grown man, Dom. He can sleep with whomever he wants.” And with those words of wisdom, my best friend walks out the door.
“Domenico,my sweet boy. It’s not Thursday. To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”
“Ciao, Aunt Sofia. What, I can’t call my favorite aunt on any day that isn’t Thursday?”
“Not when he knows it’s my weekly card night.”
I chuckle. Idoknow this. Once a week, my aunt gets together with her girlfriends and plays Briscola, an old Italian card game, over a glass of wine. Ms. Brandy and Ms. Cook have the illicit wine hookup; I try not to think too hard about it.
“You don’t have to be there for another two hours.”
“A woman of my age does not simply arrive,” she sniffs. “She must prepare. These bones are not what they were.”
I grin and let out a chuckle. “Didn’t you run a marathon last year?”
“Yes, and I’m never doing that again.” We may tease, but I’m so freaking proud of her. She’s in her sixties, but still going off on adventures and always trying new things… like marathon running.
I sink onto the edge of my couch, rubbing a hand over my face.
I love my aunt Sofia. Growing up, my parents and I didn’t get along… at all. Factor in my coming out in my late teens, and our communication has now become nonexistent. Except for a once-a-month phone call from my asshole father.
“Tell me what is on your mind,caro,” she says, slipping into that soft Italian that always gets past my armor.
“Can I ask you something personal?”
“Always.”
“Was my dadevera good man?”
She’s quiet for a beat. “Domenico,” she says gently. “We have talked about this. You are not your father, and you never will be.Tu decidi la tua strada—you choose your path. When we were young, he had good parts, but?—”
“But what if…”
“Yourwantto be in control is very different from your father’sneedto be abusive at the top of every pyramid. You place your trustin your partner just as your partner is placing their trust in you. There is mutual love and respect. Your father did not love or respect anyone, which is why he’s sitting in prison. Where the fucker rightfully belongs. Brother of mine or not.”
I know she’s right, but it’s too late. I already kissed him and then ran away like a big giant baby. What does that make me?
I shake my head. Then I remember the conversation and with whom I’m having it. My aunt Sofia is a very sex-positive woman. Which is a good thing. There’s too much shame surrounding sex and sexual desires. To me, sexuality plays a big role in what drives who we are. All that being said, talking to her about my sex life is just… shudder.
“So, who’s the boy?”
“Why do you think there’s a boy?” I ask, even though she can absolutely hear the lie.
“You wouldn’t be asking about your father and your future if there weren’t.”
“It’s just a friend,” I say. The lie tastes thin. “And I might’ve screwed it up before it even started.”
The kiss. The run. The jealous bullshit at the carnival. A perfect trifecta.
I startle at the knock on my door. It’s after eight, and I’m not expecting anyone. With my hackles on the rise, I peer out the small window next to my door.
“Umm, Aunt Sofia, I’m going to have to let you go. I’ll call you next week. We can do dinner.”
“It’s the boy, isn’t it?”
Jesus, Mother of Mary.“Aunt Sofia!” I hiss.
“Fine. But Domenico…” Her tone softens again. “You must decide about the hearing. It’s next month.”
