“How about we make sure that doesn’t happen?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“And you and your friend are having a good night?” It’s so obvious he’s fishing for information that I have to bite back a laugh.
I know he’s so interested because I kept West anonymous. If I were hanging out with Hazen or Connor or Rath, or anyone else he knows or I’ve mentioned to him before, I would have just used their name. Calling West my “friend” was a deliberate choice, and it did exactly what I knew it would.
“We are,” I say, purposely keeping my tone casual. “He’s a new friend,” I add, because I know it’ll make my dad’s brain itchy to not get the details he wants.
“A new friend?” he asks, trying and failing to sound casual.
“Yup. Well, that’s not entirely true. He’s an old friend, we’re just a new kind of friends now.”
There’s a slight pause on the line. “Is he just a friend?” Dad asks. “Or is this your way of telling me you’re seeing someone?”
“I’m seeing someone,” I say. “It’s new, and we’re figuring it out, but you can tell Mom he’s more than a friend.”
“Does he have a name?” Dad asks dryly.
“He does, but I’ll tell both of you more about him at another time because I remember someone telling me it’s rude to talk about a guest when they’re sitting next to you but can’t understand what you’re saying.”
He laughs. “Fair enough. But you know your mother is going to want all the details.”
“I know, and she’ll get the ones she needs to know,” I assure him. “Tell her I’ll call her this weekend and she can grill me all she wants then.”
“I’ll do that.” He pauses. “You like this boy?”
“I do.”
“I’m happy for you.” His tone is softer than I’ve heard in a long time. “I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy. You know that, right?”
“I know, Dad. And I am.”
“Good.” He clears his throat in that way he does when he wants to change the subject but can’t think of a segue. “I’ll let you go then. Have a good night. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
The line goes dead as he ends the call, and I toss my phone back on the coffee table.
“That was your dad?” West asks as he puts his phone next to mine.
“It was.” Just because I can, I sling one arm over West’s shoulders and pull him toward me.
He comes willingly, and we settle with me sitting back against the couch and West snuggled up to my side.
We’ve spent a lot of time sitting like this since the night West and I fucked without the mask. I’ve never been big on cuddles and prolonged body contact with people, but I like holding West and feeling him curled up to me like this.
It took almost a week of meeting up every night to fuck and hang out before he stopped expecting me to kick him out the second we were done fucking. And only in the last few days has he started to feel comfortable enough to initiate things and give me the same casual touches I’ve been giving him.
“I don’t know what it is about hearing you speak Italian, but that was beyond sexy,” he says, nuzzling his cheek against my shoulder.
“I’ll have to remember to do that in front of you more often,” I say. “Whisper sweet nothings in your ear in Italian to get you all hot and bothered.”
“You wouldn’t even have to stick to the sweet stuff,” he says with a laugh. “You could literally say anything, and I’d be like, you know what? That’s a really good point. Please tell me more.”
I huff out a laugh and brush a lock of his hair back from where it’s tickling my face. “Anything?” I tease.
“Yup, anything.” He gently runs his hand over my thigh in a lazy, abstract pattern. “Is everything okay at home?”
