“Oh, sure you do. I’ve talked about her. She’s a regular. Her son, Samuel, is… what are they called? Ah, pan… sexual. Is that right?”
I sighed, groaning inwardly. My stomach was about to explode, but I had to keep stuffing my face until my plate was clean, so I took a small bite of spanakopita. “Yeah, pansexual. That doesn’t mean he’ll be into me, Mama. It has to be the right person. And that person could be a woman.”
“Well, you’re the perfect person. I am certain he will like you.”
God, I loved that my parents accepted different sexualities, not so much the setting me up on dates. “I don’t want to date anyone at the moment. What I need to do is focus on my new job. Let me sort out my life first.”
I didn’t bother explaining that my insecurities ran pretty deep, even if I came across as confident. It was all an act. It washard for me to find someone. Sometimes, I just didn’t bother and chose to have fun. It saved me a lot of heartbreak.
After dinner, I hugged my dad and brothers goodbye before I headed home. Mom walked me to my car, both of us carrying bags of food containers for my roommates and me.
We put everything into my car, carefully setting the bags on the floorboards to prevent them from rolling around as I drove. I closed the passenger side door, and Mom pulled me into a fierce hug before kissing each of my cheeks. Then she hugged me again.
“You’re coming next Sunday, right?” she asked.
“I’m here every Sunday, Mama. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“You are my favorite. Just don’t tell your brothers.”
We were still holding each other as I laughed. She loved us equally because she told my brothers the same thing all the time. “And you’re my favorite mother.”
“Psh. I’m youronlymother.”
I kissed her cheeks, hugged her one last time, and climbed into my car. As I drove off, I glanced in the rearview mirror several times, watching her wave goodbye. She would do that until she could no longer see my car.
Chapter 7
Hugh
Thefrathouseispacked with people. I’m holding up the wall with my back as I sip my beer, watching a group of girls dance together to Ke$ha’sTiK ToK.
I’ve got a good buzz going on from the weed and shots I had earlier. Now I’m horny and need a good fuck, but none of the girls interests me. They’re all wearing shorts and T-shirts, shaking their asses, which should appeal to me, but it doesn’t. Some of my frat brothers are working their way toward them, hoping to get laid. They can have them.
It’s been hard for me to find someone lately. The last time I had a good fuck was with a businesswoman I’d met at a coffee shop two months ago. She was elegant in a pencil skirt and a black-and-white polka-dotted blouse that hung low in the front, exposing the gold-adorned cleavage from her necklaces. But it was her red pumps that drew me in. The woman was classy and all things feminine. These sorority girls are not. That had been one of the best lays of my life. Who the fuck cared if shewas twenty years older? That woman ruined all other women for me.
I chug back the rest of my beer and head to the kitchen to pour some more from the keg. As I fill my beer cup, I stare out into the backyard where more people are chatting or making out.
That’s when I see Linden, my cousin, chatting it up with some girl with long, blonde, wavy hair that looks like spun gold. He’s standing close to her, fingering a strand of hair like he wants to fuck her. Wait, that doesn’t make sense. Linden’s gay. He likes men.
Once my cup is full, I meander outside to take a closer look, curious as to why Linden wants to switch it up.
He’s not much taller than she is with her heels on, but he still towers over her in his dominant way. She has one hand pressed to his chest, looking up at him with plump lips painted red. She wears a delicate sweater in tawny brown that falls off a creamy shoulder.
Linden leans down and presses his face to her throat. She closes her eyes and smiles softly. There’s an air of grace and elegance about her. It’s her poise and body language that suck me in.
I’m instantly drawn to her, and I wish I’d found her first. Maybe Linden would let me have her. He would, right? He’s never been with a girl as far as I know.
But as I stepped closer, I soon realized she was a he. That stops me in my tracks, and my heart does a weird fluttering thing. Now, it all makes sense why Linden is interested. But that doesn’t explain why I am. Knowing he’s a guy doesn’t stop me from staring. It doesn’t stop me from wanting him. Suddenly, I don’t care about my sexuality any longer.
I just want him.
His face is stunning. Androgynous. His masculinity is subtle, like his jaw is a bit too sharp for a woman. The Adam’s apple is a dead giveaway. Damn, he looks like a fucking model.
Linden grabs the beauty’s hand and gently tugs him across the yard and back into the house through the French doors to the living room. And I follow them.
I set my drink down on the kitchen counter and weave my way through the throng of dancing bodies, not taking my eyes off the beautiful creature.
They make their way upstairs, planning to fuck in one of the spare bedrooms. All I can think about is joining in. I don’t care if Linden is my cousin. I don’t care that he found the blond first. Nothing’s going to stop me.
