Page 44 of Midlife Crisis

“Not anymore. Phone. Room. Now.”

Elston huffs, lowering his head like a petulant child. I’m thinking he’s about to sweet-talk her in the midst of the party chaos, so I intervene again.

“Kid, hand over your phone, and do as she says, or you’ll have more than overcompensation to worry about. It takes balls to be a man, so don’t be a dick to your brother. Someday, he may be the only man standing beside you.” Elston doesn’t respond, but bites his lip, itching to talk back to me. Instead, he presses off the counter in irritation, hands his phone to his mom and stalks off to the stairs. I scrub a hand over my head.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I stepped into that. He’s your son. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He’s her kid, and I shouldn’t be reprimanding him if I’m trying to make a good impression.

“Don’t apologize. I don’t know where any of that came from. He’s never like that. Never. And I’m not just saying that because he’s my son and typically a good kid. I really have no idea why he is acting this way. I’m embarrassed for him.”

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough.”

I tip my chin for her to come closer to me. “Hear him ask me if we were dating?”

Her lip twists as she stands close to my chest. Her hands come up and smooth down my sweater. “What did you say?”

Did I say we were? I only asked him how he’d feel, but he countered with the beer comment.

“I didn’t get to answer.”

“Too much conversation about getting into pants?” She giggles, ignoring the answer as well. “I probably shouldn’t have heard any of that.”

“Probably not. That was guy talk.”

“Oh, yeah?” She steps closer, rubbing up my chest to reach for my jaw. “Well, for the record, I’d like the feel of this scruff...in my pants.” She kisses my jaw, too quickly, before stepping back. It’s then that I feel eyes on us. Shit.

“Mom, Mr. Kraus is leaving. He wants to thank you for hosting the party.” I don’t know who this Mr. Kraus is, but Midge flits her arms. Mr. Kraus better not want in her pants.

“Oh, okay, good,” she replies, pulling back from me without a glance and heads for her front door.

Ronin steps forward, and I’m feeling trapped by this damn sink.

“You’re Hank Paige,” he says as if he’s just realized my name although we’ve obviously met.

“Yep.”

“The Hank Paige. The one from Chrome Teardrops.” I rub a hand over my face. Oh fuck.

“What do you know about that?”

“Kit Carrigan rocked it. The band included her brother, you, and Denton Chance on guitar, but you had two solos within her first album.” Crap. This kid is good. “I have a poster of you on my wall upstairs.”

“What?” Do those even still exist? “Does your mother know about this?” My voice lowers. I haven’t quite added it all up for her yet.

“My mom knows nothing about music. She pretends to understand because she loves me, but other than listening, she doesn’t get it.”

“Ronin, I don’t believe in keeping secrets, but could we keep this between us for a little bit longer?”

“You trying to date my mom?” Jesus, is this the question of the night?

“Yes.”

“Then she needs the truth. My dad lied too much.” He’s right. I know this, but…

“You ever like a girl and want her to like you for you and not something she thinks you are, or something other than you are?”

Ronin ponders on this a second. “Like wanting Athena to see me as more than a band nerd?”