“Either one.” Roman enjoyed their sex play and thought they both had a healthy amount of curiosity, but he did worry that Ezra might want someone more adventurous than him or someone different, if not now, then later?
“I think Ezra knows what he wants, and if things change and he gets curious, then you can deal with it then. The rules are what you make them. And if Ezra decides he wants a little something outside the marriage bed, well, I volunteer because that’s the sort of nice guy I am.” Roman shoved him on instinct and Jay nearly lost hold of his sandwich. “Velcro hands, baby.”
“You think I should talk to his mom about it?” Roman knew it was customary to ask for the father’s blessing when proposing to a woman, but those sorts of traditions were pretty outdated and slightly misogynistic. Still, it seemed wrong to not at least mention it to Wendy first. Shehadasked him very pointedly about his intentions for her son.
“I don’t know about all that. Remember how pissed he got during Mardi Gras when you stepped in?”
“Yeah, I do.” Ezra had made it very clear that he was his own man. Roman mulled it over. He had some time still to figure out the best way to go about it.
“So, what’s the verdict, QB? You gonna shoot your shot or what?”
Roman had nothing to lose and only a sweet, wonderful, sexy husband to gain. “Yeah, I’m all in.”
Jay held out his free hand for a fist-bump. “That’s what I’m talking about, baby. Fourth-and-goal. The end zone’s in sight. Better lock it up.”
* * *
Roman came home laterthat afternoon to find Ezra folding clean towels in the laundry room. A troubled expression clouded his normally sunny face as he methodically snapped the terrycloth fabric before wrestling it into submission.
“Hey, babe.” Roman came right up behind him and kissed his soft neck, then trailed his hands down Ezra’s narrow frame to rest on his hips. Ezra leaned back into him with a sigh, so Roman let his fingers graze underneath Ezra’s t-shirt and brush against his smooth belly.
“How was your workout with Jay?” Ezra asked, tilting his head to make room for Roman to properly nuzzle him.
“Good. Real good. We got lunch in the park. Did you eat something?”
“No, not yet. I’ve been too busy.”
“Saturday’s for diversionary activities, not chores. Why don’t you let me help you?” Roman picked up a towel to fold and Ezra tugged it away from him.
“I’m very particular about the way things are folded.” Ezra frowned. “And I needed something to settle my thoughts.”
Roman leaned against the dryer and crossed his arms, now facing his lover. “What’s bugging you, babe? Is it your programming project?”
“No, that’s going very well. We decided on a concept.”
“Oh yeah? What is it?”
“We’re going to create a database of all the restaurant and retail establishments in New Orleans and rate them according to how accessible they are to people with disabilities. Darian is going to help me come up with the criteria beyond the ADA guidelines”
“That’s a great idea. And useful too. You can let me know how my restaurants are doing.”
“You’ll be able to look it up yourself via our website. Based on our crowdsourced data, our algorithm will produce a report with recommendations on how to increase your accessibility. And if you make an improvement, you’ll be able to submit it online for one of our moderators to verify and update your listing.”
“That’s incredible,” Roman said with a smile, amazed at not only the practicality of Ezra’s project but also the thoughtfulness of the endeavor itself. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”
“The framework, yes, but there are several more details we’ll need to reach consensus on before we can begin work.”
“Is that what’s got you feeling anxious?”
“No.” Ezra’s gaze dropped to his hands, still holding onto one of their bath towels. “I was looking at employment opportunities.”
Roman braced himself for bad news. “And?”
“There are quite a lot of entry-level positions available to someone with my skillset.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Yes, my mother thinks I should apply widely…” Ezra’s lower lip trembled, a gesture that may or may not be the prelude to tears.
