Page 172 of Masters of Control

Ah, fuck. Asad barely held in his groan as he walked into Law’s kitchen. It looked like he was the first one to show up. Law was the only one there, standing behind the counter and getting some kind of food ready. His girlfriend, Iris, who also lived here, was nowhere to be seen. Asad gave his friend a little wave and Law nodded his head in greeting before refocusing on what he was doing.

“She’s kind of shy, Mom.”

“Which is why it will be better for her to meet your immediate family first, so she doesn’t feel like she’s being thrown into a group of strangers,” his mom retorted. “This way, at least she’ll know me and Anna when you have duties to attend to.”

Crap. His mom had a good point.

“Yeah, okay.”

“You could try to sound a little grateful, you know. It’s not like adding in something extra to this already packed week was easy,” his mom chided him.

It didn’t matter that Asad hadn’t asked her to add a dinner, that he didn’t even want her to add a dinner. Nope, he was supposed to be grateful. Biting back the reply he really wanted to make, he cleared his throat. It was easier to go along with his mother than argue with her.

“Thank you, Mom.”

“You’re welcome.” Her voice softened. “I can’t wait to see you, sweetheart. It’s been too long.”

Something inside his chest tugged uncomfortably, and he suddenly felt very aware of Law’s presence. Turning away, so he was facing the hallway rather than the open kitchen, Asad rubbed his hand over his collarbone, where the inner pressure was pushing the hardest.

“Looking forward to seeing you, too.” It was the truth, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. Family visits were always uncomfortable for him, but he did love his family and knew they loved him. At least he had that.

He was even more grateful for it this week after his conversation with Morgan last Saturday.

“I love you. See you Monday.”

“Love you too, Mom. See you Monday.” Only two days away. A day and a half, really, since Saturday was already half over.

Hanging up the phone, Asad cleared his throat as he turned around to face Law again. The other man was still standing behind the counter, cutting something, and seemingly entirely focused on his work, which Asad didn’t trust at all.

“Hey, man, sorry about that.”

“No problem. You ready for the wedding?” Law asked. Asad’s friends knew a little about his complicated family dynamics, enough to understand why visits home could be difficult for him.

“Oh, sure, a whole week centered around Prince Cyrus. I’m so ready.” He fist-pumped through the sarcasm, and Law shook his bald head, a smile hovering on his lips. Filipino-American, his skin was several shades darker than Asad’s, and he had some grey threaded through his goatee and mustache. That grey was exactly why Asad didn’t have facial hair… but then, he still had hair on top of his head. Something he took great pleasure in teasing Law and their other friend Q—whose real name was Quinton—about.

Before Law could comment on his snarky response, the sound of the door opening and Q’s voice filled the air.

“Sam gave it to me. Of course, I’m going to wear it.” Q walked into the kitchen, Connor following behind him with a bemused expression on his face—easy to see because, as tall as Q was, Connor was even taller, a giant teddy bear of a man. Asad guessed the topic of conversation was the t-shirt Q was wearing, which his girlfriend must have given him.

It’s Not a Bald Spot

It’s a Solar Panel for

A Sex Machine

The bold print stood out starkly on the black shirt. It only took Law and Asad a moment to read it, then they both cracked up. Q grinned sheepishly, running his hand over his very bald head. He’d shaved it recently from its closely-cropped cut when he’d noticed a bald spot forming on the top.

Connor shook his head. He was the shyest out of the four of them. Asad couldn’t imagine him wearing a shirt that said anything like that. Or a shirt that said anything at all. Shirts with funny sayings were definitely not his style. They weren’t really Asad’s either, but he still had a few to whip out when the occasion warranted it.

“It’s not like you can understand,” Asad joked, looking up at Connor. “The only way anyone could ever know if you have a bald spot is if you sit down… but you can see everyone else’s.”

“That’s true.” Connor shrugged.

“Well, Sam and Iris will be coming back eventually, so you can tell her yourself that you don’t approve,” Q teased, and Connor frowned at him.

“It’s not that I don’t approve. I’m just saying… You know what, never mind.” He shook his head again, sighing as he sat down at the counter. He was tall enough that, even sitting on the barstool, if he had a bald spot on top of his head, the only one who might be able to see it was Q.

“It’s okay, big guy. We would never get you a shirt that says anything like this,” Q said, patting Connor’s shoulder as he sat down next to him. “We know you prefer to be a secret sex machine rather than announcing it to the world.”