“Sure is,” I answered and watched him as he washed his hands, took a steak out and lit up the grill pan.
“I have a job for you,” he said looking down at Lookah who was searching for any opportunity to steal a piece of meat off the counter.
“Yes, chef. What can I do?”
“Feed this bastard so he leaves me alone for two seconds?” he said, chuckling and I saluted him.
“You got it, chef,” I said.
Twenty minutes later, the food was ready, and I was sitting at the kitchen island opening up a red wine while Dare washed up. He came back into the room with a lit candle, giving our meal an immediate date vibe. I wasn’t sure if that had been his goal, but I couldn’t help but bite my lip to stop myself from ogling at him under candlelight.
But there was only so long I could do that when I had to serve him a glass of wine. After we were both settled, we clinked our glasses.
“Thank you for doing this,” I told him as I set the glass down and grabbed the knife and fork.
“It’s okay. I can whip up a steak in no time.”
“That’s not what I meant. I meantthis. Bringing me here. Letting me stay here and invade your space.”
“Pfft, you’re not invading anything. If anything I should be thanking you for the company. I forgot what it was like to have someone around.”
I nodded, staring at my food.
“You…you don’t have someone?” I mumbled.
“What? Like a boyfriend?” he asked with a bemused expression.
Was that his way of confirming his sexuality to me? Was he sending me a message or was I a party of one in this delusion?
“Or family.” I shrugged. “You never talk about yourself.”
“Ditto,” he said with a raised eyebrow, and I pursed my lips.
“Fair point. Although…you know about Victor now, so that’s something.”
“Ouch. You’re starting with Victor? The douchebag? What about your family?”
“I don’t…I don’t really have one. Well, I do but they want nothing to do with me. So I’m all on my own.” I offered a big smile to compensate for the sad statement, but it didn’t work.
Dare frowned and his bottom lip curled, and I felt like a dick for ruining the mood.
“I’m sorry. Is-is that because of the gay thing?”
“Yeah. That and I didn’t want to follow in my parents’ footsteps of being a big-shot lawyer or doctor or whatever. But mainly, it’s the gay thing.”
Dare reached his hand across the counter and covered mine, causing an explosion of goosebumps along my arm.
“I’m sorry,” he said, giving me a squeeze.
“It’s okay. I’m over it,” I lied.
The truth was I preferred not to think about it most days. I’d rather focus on what I did have. On what I wanted. On my dreams. Especially after my experience with Victor.
Oh, what would Daddy Dearest think of that. His son? A punching bag to a white man? He would have disinherited me on the spot if he hadn’t already.
Hell, I would have disinherited me. It was pathetic. Sticking around a toxic relationship just because he knew how to say “I love you” and “I’m sorry” the right way.
“Enough about my sad life. What about you?” I asked, trying to clear my mind by shaking my head free of the debilitating thoughts.
