Lucas was about to disagree but Tucker kissed him, shutting up anything he was about to say. He gave in easily because, seriously, the man was a great kisser. His body melted into a pile of goo and he was very disappointed when Tucker pulled back from their kiss. He knew the man was talking, but he had no idea what he was saying since he’d opened his eyes and got lost in Tucker’s lips. He wanted more of those mind-numbing, toe-curling kisses.
“I’m glad you agree with me," Tucker said and got off him and the bed.
“Huh?” Lucas asked coming back to his senses. “What the hell did I agree to?”
Tucker smirked and pulled on the shirt he had on the night before. “I hear Zoi stirring, and you need to get ready for work. I’m sure once you tell your mom you want to have dinner again this weekend, she will be happy to have the family over.” He walked out of the room leaving Lucas confused as to what he’d just agreed to.
Did he just trick me into agreeing to something?
* * *
Where the hell is Tucker?Damn him and his freaking kisses.
Once his mind cleared of the fogginess, he realized what Tucker had said to him. So, Lucas called his mother and asked her to call everyone in the family because he needed to get a few things off his chest. He could tell she wanted to ask him what it was all about but didn’t. As for him and Tucker, the idea for them to live together wasn’t going so great. Tucker had gone back to work and ended up working late every night and couldn’t make it back to New York. They knew things weren’t going to be perfect and issues would need to be worked out as time went on. Someone cleared their throat, and Lucas looked at the people sitting in his parents' living room staring at him waiting for him to say what was on his mind. Two family dinners in a month was enough.
“Okay, Son,” his mother said to him. “We’re all here, well, except for Richard and Tucker, we can fill them in later. So, tell us what you want to get off your chest.”
“Um . . .” He scratched the back of his neck, he hadn't rehearsed what he wanted to say, or how he was going to tell their families that he was pregnant, but Tucker was supposed to be there when he spoke with them.
“Are you sick?” Marilyn asked him. “I knew I should have been there to take care of you. What did the doctor say?”
“For crying out loud, Mom, let him say what he needs to say . . .”
“Yeah, Mom,” Christen said cutting off Tyler. “You always jump to the wrong assumption whenever we . . .”
“I’m pregnant,” Lucas said shutting Christen up, and the room went completely still, and everyone was looking at him. “There, I said it. I’m pregnant.” No one said a word for several minutes, and he had no idea who was going to speak first which was making him very nervous.
“But if you’re pregnant that means you slept with a guy, and you bottomed,” Christen said looking at him weirdly. “Wait, is that why you asked that question that day?”
“So what if I bottomed? Is it so hard to believe that I might be into guys too?” He was feeling a bit annoyed with Christen, and he didn’t know why.
“No, I’m just shocked, you don’t seem like the kind of guy to bottom.”
“And what does every guy that takes it up the ass look like? Short, thin, and pretty like a woman?” he snapped. “Out of everyone, I wouldn’t have thought you’d make such an assumption, Chris.”
“Ar . . . are you sure?” his father asked him, stopping the argument that was sure to happen between him and his little brother.
“Yeah, trust me. It was and still is a shock to me.”
“I don’t understand, we were told you couldn’t get pregnant,” his mother said to him.
“I know, I said the same thing. I even had a full physical—twice—and had the doctors review my records. From what they saw it shouldn’t have been possible, but it’s true, I am pregnant.”
“Who’s the father?” she asked him.
Before he could answer, the sound of the front door closing stopped him, and he hoped it was Tucker.
“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Richard said when he walked into the room. “What did I miss?”
All eyes went to Richard and then back to Lucas, and he could see what they were thinking.
“No, it’s not Richard,” Lucas said.
“It’s not Richard what?”
“They think the baby I’m carrying is yours,” Lucas told him.
“Whoa, hey, I like you and all, Lucas, but you’re not my type. No offense but you’re a bit too manly for my taste.”
