My Mister snorted. “You’ve been amazing all my life, Dad. I know.”
I covered a plate with a paper towel and popped it in the microwave for three minutes. When my task was done, I turned and leaned against the counter again. Lane walked over and pressed a kiss against my cheek, and I hugged him. I couldn’t help it. He was warm and sweet and my Mister.
Cecil cocked his head at us. “Any particular reason why you’re shifting gears? Last time I talked to you, sex work was your deepest life’s ambition, and you were going to retire from it.” He raised his eyebrows at me but didn’t say anything else.
Lane laughed. “Stay out of it.”
Lance growled and startled me, but Lane only turned so he could look at him without letting me go. “You’ve been telling us that since you were sixteen. No. We will not keep out of your life. We do have opinions on anything you do that could lead to you being unwell or unhappy.” He stared directly at me as he said that last part, and I cringed.
“Look, I get it. I didn’t think too much about what would happen if I ever met you and your husband, but I understand you not liking me with your son. I… excuse me.”
Lane gripped my shirt, but I slid away, and he was forced to let me go or rip the fabric as I escaped into the bedroom and then on into the bathroom. I felt fucking guilty that I wasn’t a better person for Lane to show off as I turned the knob and cold water ran out of the sink faucet. I ducked and splashed my face, but even the chill couldn’t chase away the awful feeling that swamped me. Raised voices carried over the sound of water rushing into the sink, and I thought maybe they were coming from the living room. An argument was the opposite of what I’d wanted. Sighing, I went back out to find Lane and his parents near the front door.
Lane had his arms crossed in a mirror image of Lance. “You can’t come in here and treat my boyfriend like this!”
“You’ve never spoken to me this way before.” Lance ran his hands through his hair and gripped the strands, and Cecil tapped his hand until he untangled his fingers and eased them to his sides again.
“Calm down, you two.” Cecil moved until he had his arms hooked around both their shoulders. “Obviously Lane feels very strongly you should back off, hon. Our son is an adult now, even if we still like taking care of him.”
Lane glared and stomped back to the couch where he flopped onto the cushions. When he noticed me, he held his hand out toward me. He was fuming, not something I’d ever really seen, even when he was mad at me. I forced myself to be a man and walked over to him, taking his hand.
He glared across the room. “Let’s try this again. This is Ross, my boyfriend, and the man I love, and you won’t treat him that way in our home that we’re sharing.”
“We have a hotel room. I’ll take you out to breakfast tomorrow so we can have a real conversation.” Lance opened the door and gave me a snotty glance.
Lane sighed. “It’ll have to be early. No later than six thirty. I have things I want to do tomorrow.”
“Fine.”
Cecil came over, and I was shocked when he bent and hugged me. “Nice to meet you.” He hugged Lane, who was much more relaxed in his grip. “Give your dad time. He has some specific ideas about the man you should be with long-term.”
“Oh?”
Cecil leaned back and tweaked Lane’s nose as if he was a kid. “This mystery man doesn’t exist, unless you know a billionaire who is perfect in every way possible—and also Jewish.”
I glanced at Lane. “You’re Jewish?”
He snorted. “No. Dad’s family is, though. It drives him bugnuts that I have no interest.”
Cecil laughed and patted me on the shoulder. “Bring him with you in the morning.”
Lane’s chin jutted and he shook his head. “No, Dad needs to say whatever he needs to say without Ross there to hear him being a jerk. If things go okay, we’ll all do dinner tomorrow night.”
Cecil nodded and gave Lane one more hug. My Mister gave me a pat on the knee before he walked Cecil to the door. When Lane had the lock turned, he spun and pressed his back against the wood and then leaned there with his eyes shut tight.
“I’m sorry me being here was a problem.”
“It isn’t. They love me, but there’s a reason we’re on opposite coasts.” He grinned and then fought back a yawn with a hand over his mouth.
“Maybe… maybe I should go with you in the morning. I don’t want you to have to argue with them alone.” Even though it was stupid, I felt like that was maybe the bravest thing I’d ever offered to do for anyone.
He tilted his head back against the door and studied me. “Dad’s going to be a bulldog if you go, and I don’t like seeing that look on your face.”
“What look?”
He leaned his head farther back and stared at the ceiling. “The one that says you’re waiting for the world to screw you over.”
My face flushed and I ignored that comment. “They mean a lot to you, clearly. I’ll go. I’ll be wittier than I was tonight. I’ll make sure they like me.”
