“Mom,” he groaned. “I’m a grown man; I can feed myself.”
“Don’t get her started,” his dad said as he walked in the room. He slipped behind her, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he went by. “Thank you for making lunch, beautiful.”
Jensen turned toward his father, hoping he could get him to see reason at least. “No one else has their mothers sending food for them.”
“That’s because they have spouses at home that do it for them.” His mom finished scooping her own portions onto a plate. “I was just telling your father you need to find a man. Preferably a chef that can fatten you up. Are you sure I can’t set you up with that hairdresser from the salon I go to? The pozole recipe I got from him was very tasty. If you two got together, he could feed you and cut your hair.”
“Mom, you don’t even know if he’s gay.” Jensen knew for a fact he was gay, or at least not straight. He’d seen him on a hookup app about a year ago when Jensen’s horniness had outweighed his social anxiety for a night. At least, he was pretty sure it was the same man his mother had shown him pictures of. It was hard to tell from the angle he’d chosen for the images he uploaded. The similarities had been close enough for Jensen to ignore the profile just to be safe. Clearing his throat, he shifted on the stool. “Besides, I met a man over the weekend.”
Both his parents stared at him, shock so evident on their faces that it was actually insulting. He met people. He went on dates. Occasionally. Okay, it had been quite a while since he last tried dating a man, hookups not included. That wasn’t exactly his fault though. He’d been busy at work and dreaming up new plans to remodel his house. And then he’d gotten really invested in an old TV show that had twelve seasons, and he had to finish that or he’d be thinking about it constantly.
Besides, it was difficult to date at his age. A sour taste bubbled up his throat whenever he thought about dating someone in their twenties—it simply felt strange now that hewas nearing his mid-thirties. Even if he had any interest in an age gap, he didn’t have anything in common with people younger than him. Most of the good men his age were already partnered up, and the others weren’t looking for a relationship for one reason or another. That left all the people who were single for a reason, which were the men he happened to run into more often than not.
It didn’t help that Jensen’s world was quite insular. He refused to partake in the club scene and had never enjoyed loud bars. Dating apps had been promising in the beginning, as having all relevant information about a person before meeting was ideal for Jensen. He could even get a few conversations out of the way through text so he didn’t feel so awkward and unprepared on first dates. But his experiences on the apps had been mostly demoralizing, and it didn’t take long for him to delete them.
At this point, the only place he was going to meet another man was through work or, evidently, by checking into a brothel.
“It’s probably not going to go anywhere,” Jensen admitted to his parents. He didn’t want to get their hopes up. It was a bit careless to mention it at all. Sure, Daniel’s note had told him to text and keep in touch, but Jensen doubted he meant it. He must have told all the men he entertained to do the same, and Jensen shouldn’t allow himself to think he was special or anything would come out of it.
His mother’s face fell before her expression hardened. “And why not? Is he not good enough for you? Who is this man anyway? If he’s not willing to chase after you, then his loss. Give me his number and I’ll talk to him.”
“Angie,” his father warned with a hand on her arm. “Let the boy talk.”
Jensen sighed and pushed around the noodles on his plate. “I really like him. We spent hours together talking over theweekend, and I feel closer to him than anyone I’ve met in a long time. I just don’t see it working out between us.”
“Because of the distance? If he feels the same way, I’m sure we could convince him to move closer. Long-distance relationships can work out. You know, there’s an entire show about people who get engaged and they live in different countries. If they?—”
“Because he’s a sex worker.” Jensen pushed his plate away, the small appetite he had from traveling swept away. “He’s a sex worker, and I suspect he only acted interested because it’s his job.”
“Well”—she twisted her mouth—“that’s not ideal …”
“Does he plan on continuing in that … line of work?” his dad asked.
Jensen blew out a breath and hunched his shoulders. “I don’t know, I haven’t asked.”
“But you like this boy?”
“Yeah, Dad, I do. I can’t explain it. We just click, and you know how rare that is for me.”
His parents stared at each other, silently having a conversation they’d had countless times over his life. They were trying to decide if they were going to allow him to make his own mistakes or intervene. But Daniel didn’t feel like a mistake, not to Jensen. Even if his job was less than ideal, like his mother had so eloquently stated.
His father seemed to have won the silent standoff because his mother sighed and turned to face him first.
“A sex worker,” his mother mused, her long nails tapping on the counter. “We can work with that. I don’t like it, but we can fix it. Is he a stripper? My cousin Jolanda was a stripper to pay for beauty school.”
Jensen choked on his breath. “Jolanda was a stripper?” The woman in question preferred wearing housecoats in variousfloral patterns and specialized in giving perms to elderly clients. Admittedly, she was pretty, but it seemed unbelievable that she would ever take her clothes off in front of strangers.
“Oh yes. That’s how she met her husband. Mauricio came in, and it was love at first sight. Of course, he needed some help opening his eyes. Anyways, Jolanda called him up a few weeks after they met, told him he gave her the clap and he needed to pay for her treatment.”
“Good God,” Jensen muttered into his hands.
“Which he did,” his mother asserted with a raised voice. “Was a real gentleman about the whole thing. And now they’ve been married for fifteen years. I’m sure we can get this man on board and you can get your happily ever after too. Preferably without the STD.”
“He sleeps with people for money. It’s a bit more than just being a stripper. He works in a brothel.”
“And you like him?” his mother asked, still wary.
It didn’t matter if Jensen liked Daniel or not. It didn’t matter that his chest was empty and his fingers itched to pull out his phone to text him. It didn’t matter that when he’d left the hotel that morning, he was accompanied by a sense of loss that had followed him across the country.
