Lane’s gaze softened. “It’s been good, right?”
It was hard to believe that Lane would even ask, but then Trevor was still discovering how there was a tender vulnerability inside him that was hidden by his sometimes-brash, always-confident exterior.
Trevor hadn’t known that Lane existed when he’d moved to Toronto.
“Kinda the best,” Trevor admitted. He’d never imagined that he’d be so happy. He’d been excited, sure, and a little apprehensive to move in with his stepbrother who he didn’t know all that well yet, but hadalwayswanted to, and in the end, it had turned out even better than he could’ve imagined.
And part of his nerves, for sure, were that hewantedto turn to his dad and Delia and say,look,I didn’t know then, but I know now. This is me.And Lane? He’s part of that new me.
“Good.” If Lane sounded a tiny bit smug about it, Trevor wasn’t going to call him on it, because Trevor couldn’t imagine a better compliment than Lane being proud that he was making him happy.
The car pulled up in front of the restaurant and they slid out. There was no more time for check-ins or touches, because therewere their parents, standing just inside the front doors by the host stand.
Trevor took a deep breath, told himself everything was going to be fine, that he was, in fact,happy, they were here in Toronto, and went to greet them.
It was, despite all his anxieties, mostly fine, actually.
At least until they’d settled down at their mostly private table, tucked all the way in the back, Delia exclaiming about the elegance of the decor and the artwork on the walls, and how handsome her two boys were, and they ordered some wine and a few appetizers.
Then the interrogation began.
“I want to know everything about how you two living together has been going,” Delia said.
Trevor tried very hard not to freeze in his chair. Lane’s hand had yet to make its way over to his knee or his thigh, but he had a feeling that was coming, especially if he kept being this freaking obvious about it.
“Yeah,” his dad said, far too casually and in a way that made Trevor’s antennas for bullshit light right the fuck up. “We barely hear from you two. I know you’re busy.”
“So busy,” Trevor interceded. “NFL’s a lot different than college. I’m so lucky that Lane’s been there to show me the way.” He was kind of hoping that conversational gambit might convince Delia or Tom or evenbothof them to go along with the topic change, but no dice.
Instead, Delia said playfully, “Trev, that’s exactly what we want to know! Tell us everything Lane’s been teaching you.”
This time there was no mistaking how Trevor froze, absolutely deer in the fucking headlights. And yep, there was Lane’s hand, squeezing around his knee in a tight grip that wasn’t so much surprising as it was arousing.
“About football?” Trevor asked weakly.
He swore he saw his dad’s eyes narrow. But no, that had to be his imagination. A hallucination, maybe. Or a nightmare.
“Of course about football,” Delia said, laughing as she picked up her wineglass. “What else would he be teaching you?”
A dozen things that Trevor shouldnotbe thinking of right now, in the middle of dinner with their parents, who were currently unaware that they were both fucking and in a relationship, flickered across his mind.
“Maybe how to adjust to his new frame of mind,” Tom said mildly.
Lane cleared his throat. “Yeah. Um. I haven’t had to do much teaching, honestly. Trevor’s been an eager student, really smart and really on top of the transition.”
He looked regretful the moment the words came out of his mouth, like he hadn’t even realized how they’d sound, until they were sitting right there, too many double meanings unmistakable if you were looking for them.
Trevor just hoped that Delia and his dad weren’t.
“Sounds like it’s going pretty well, then,” Tom said mildly.
The former he felt pretty good about, but the latter? He was semi-convinced that his dad knew and was just waiting for the confession. Was maybe even actively trying to encourage the confession.
Well, Trevor would blurt it out right now, if Lane was alright with it. He was done playing this game. He wasn’t very good at it, and hewantedthem to know just how happy Lane had made him. Just how happy he and Lane were together.
“Really well,” Trevor agreed.So well we can’t keep our hands off each other.
“And it hasn’t been difficult at all, Trevor cramping your style?” Delia asked Lane with a little wink.
