“That’s not how words work.”
“Grady?”
“What?” He’s the one that started this train wreck of a conversation.
“Shut up and kiss me.”
Even tasting like pancakes, he still makes my toes curl, and the urge to drag him up onto the counter and fuck him is on the tip of my tongue. It’s too bad that doing it would mean we’d be late to work. And Quinn gives me those knowing, sly looks way too often as it is. Likehehasn’t been late because of his insatiable partners. He can shove those looks where the sun doesn’t shine.
Lake pulls away with a breathless sigh and a heated twinkle in his gaze. “When are you going to get fitted for your suit?” he asks, like he didn’t just make me hard and leave me wanting. I only feel marginally better when I see the bulge in his pants too. At least we’re suffering together. Solidarity and all that bullshit.
“Two weeks.” Quinn couldn’t do this weekend, as he has something going on with Will’s family. I have no idea how he keeps track of everyone he’s now connected to, with four boyfriends. Lake’s family is overwhelming enough. It would help if Lake remembered to putanythingon the calendar. It’s a work in progress.
“We should do it at the same time. Not liketogetherbut on the same weekend. I’ll let Zach and Felix know.”
“Alright.”
Lake hesitates and then hikes himself up onto the bench, crossing his legs and balancing his plate over them. “About Riley…”
“My boss?” I glance in the direction where I know the surly teenager that Lake is actually talking about is showering on the other side of the house. The surly teenager who’d barely eaten any of his breakfast before stalking off, like it had somehow offended him. He’s not wrong in this case: pancakes are an offense to anything. Just existing, they’re an offense.
Lake ignores that. “He’ll need a new home, right?”
“He will. They’ll place him in temporary care until they can find a new foster home for him.”
Lake nods and pokes at his last pancake. I already know what’s coming, and I don’t know how I feel about it.
“We have a spare room. Multiple of them, in fact.”
That wasn't subtle at all. “We do,” I say warily.
Lake drops his fork and picks up the pancake with his hand, dipping it in syrup before biting off a piece. “We could easily turn one of them into his room. The one he’s already been in or a different one if he wants. They’re all far enough away from our room to not be an issue, you know, sexy-naked-time wise.”
I’m ignoring that he called it that. “Lake...”
“We could do it,” he insists intently. “Foster him, I mean. Give him a place to stay. Stability.”
I push my own plate away and fiddle with the side of my mug, still lightly warm. “It’s a lot of responsibility. And he’s got a lot of trauma.” Way more than either of us are reasonably equipped to deal with.
“Which makes stability and care more important, right? Having people he can rely on.”
I can’t disagree with any one particular point—I don’t think Riley has had stabilityorcare his whole life,andwe have both the room and the means to help him—I just don’t know that we’re the right ones for this. It’s not something to decide on a whim. Even by trying to help, we could end up doing more damage. “We’re not foster parents.”
“But we could be. Everyone that’s a foster parent started out not being one.”
Sometimes I envy the way that Lake sees the world. Full of colour, and optimism, and glasses half full. Sometimes it’s really fucking annoying. “Looking after a teenager is huge, Lake. He’s not a pet.”
“He’s not?” Lake’s innocent face is way too convincing, like he’s practiced it in the mirror. He probably did. Iknewhe was taking longer in the bathroom than usual today. “And I ordered a new set of dog bowls for him.”
“Cute.” I take Lake’s plate and put it beside him before dragging him to the edge of the counter. Cupping his face, I search it, checking to see just how sincere he is about this. He has a tendency to make impulsive decisions and leap without looking, but his heart is always in the right place. If he hadn’t taken that chance on me, thrown his lot in with me before he could really think about it, then we wouldn’t be here. And if I hadn’t trusted that he meant it, that this was real, and I wasn’t just an experiment for him, then we’d never have had a chance. He looks at me with total trust, with complete confidence that I’ll be by his side, with him and supporting him, in all things.
“You really want to do this? You have to be sure, Lake. If we decide to pursue this, there’s no backing out. He doesn’t deserve that, and neither do we.”
He leans forward, pressing our foreheads together, hands settling on my chest. “I think you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I see parts of you that you don’t even realise are there. You’re an amazing partner, you’re going to be an amazing husband, and you’d be an amazing dad.” He tilts his head, kissing me softly. “He needs us.”
“He’s a strong kid; he’d find his way, regardless.”
“Maybe, but why does he have to do that alone?”
