She’d never said that to him. Lane had always assumed that they weren’t going anywhere, because they didn’t have the money or the resources to move, but from the determined tilt to her chin, he wondered if she would have figured out a way to make it happen anyway.
“Of course you would have. I always raised Trevor to be a strong ally—so many of the patients in my practice haven’t been straight, and I think it’s so important to surround yourself with a good cross-section of humanity. Not just people who are like you.”
Now Dr. Thompson was beaming with pride, too, the glow in his eyes unmistakable as love.
“You’re so right,” Delia said, softly. Lane wanted to throw up.
He put his hand over his mom’s, andGod, this was really going to happen, wasn’t it? Maybe not next week or next month, but at some point, there was no way they wouldn’t end up playing happy family.
Maybe in time, he wouldn’t feel that flare of attraction when he looked over at Trevor. He’d thought that Trevor smiling at him had meant it was reciprocated, but now, he reframed every non-interaction they’d ever had in his head. Of course, Trevor had known who he was. He’d been smiling at him not because he thought Lane was hot too and wanted to sneak off behind the bleachers, but because his dad was dating Lane’s mom, and he thought eventually they’d end up brothers.
Stepbrothers, sure, but still brothers in the eyes of anyone who’d care.
Triple fuckety fuck.
The meal dragged on, interminably, and even though Trevor kept trying to catch his gaze, to share a commiserating glance, Lane wouldn’t do it.
Hecouldn’tdo it.
He needed time to readjust his thinking. To force his brain—and his dick—into this new normal. To remind himself, however he could, that he and Trevor would not onlynotbe fucking someday, they’d actually be related.
By marriage, sure, but that was enough.
And his mom was so goddamned happy, so clearly and obviously in love, Lane didn’t have the heart to tell her, if there evenwasanything to tell. He wasn’t even in love with Trevor; he’d just made his heart beat a little faster a handful of times. A few stray fantasies. In the greater scheme of things, that was nothing, and hewouldget over it.
Thank God at least he’d be gone next year, in California, and he’d get the time and space to totally reorientate himself into this new normal.
There’d be plenty of guys at USC. So many that when he came home next, he was sure that Trevor wouldn’t even register.
But for right now, his dick hadn’t gotten the memo, and when his mom suggested that Lane drive the both of them home, while she and Dr. Thompson went to a movie, everything inside him froze up.
He should protest—maybe even point out how much of a setup this was—but what could he even say?
Sorry, I don’t wanna be alone with him, because even if he’s not interested, I still want to rip his clothes off and suck his dick?
“Sure,” Lane said, even as Trevor smiled big, clearly pleased.
“Sounds like a great way for us to get to know each other better,” Trevor said.
Lane did not roll his eyes. Mostly, anyway.
A few minutes later, Trevor was sitting in the front seat of the old model CRV that his mom had bought used a few years back. It was not the doctor’s brand-new BMW, that was sure, and Lane had braced himself for Trevor to say something, or act like the vehicle was beneath him.
But of course he didn’t.
He wasn’t going to make it that easy on Lane, even inadvertently.
An uncomfortable silence fell between them as Lane pulled out of the parking lot. He knew where the doctor lived, because when his mom had started dating him, Lane had embarrassingly googled him and then driven by his house, like he could figure out just by the exterior if the guy was a serial killer.
Positive: he didn’t seem to be.
Negative: his son was the hot guy Lane had spent the last two months ogling in the weight room.
“So,” Trevor said, chuckling a little self-consciously under his breath, “you didn’t know I was Tom’s son.”
“I—” Lane broke off. “No.”
“Yeah, you looked surprised,” Trevor said wryly.
