Page 72 of Muscle Cub

I rolled my eyes. She’d kept me apprised of every increment of Charles and Jasen’s break-up. I didn’t care so much that she and Charles communicated, but it bugged the fuck out of me that she kept bringing up their marriage without ever acknowledging how he’d refused to even consider marrying me. Once, when the topic had come up with my parents at dinner, Charles had lectured us about how embarrassed he was for same sex couples seeking heteronormativity.

Mom took a prim sip of her drink. “I always predicted their age difference would prove to be too significant.” Realizing she’d put her foot in it, she fluttered her lashes.

I watched her trying to calculate the age difference between Austin and me. Had she gotten anywhere close? Austin had a baby face, but facial hair tended to throw off people of my parents’ clean-shaven generation.

In the gazebo, John and Austin high-fived, and John handed him a microphone.

Oh shit.

I recognized the opening bars of Leanne Womack’s “I Hope You Dance.” Austin had claimed it as one of the top three country ballads in his wheelhouse. At least it wasn’t “Wonderwall.”

Mom took the opportunity to walk away, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the yard. With everyone sitting at the tables on the patio and the deck behind me, I couldn’t see anyone’s reaction when Austin started to sing, but I felt them watching.

A bark of laughter escaped from the vicinity of Sadie and her friends. I closed my eyes, silently begging her to forgive me, then tried to arrange my features into a supportive smile for Austin’s sake.

He sang to me the way he’d danced at me the night we’d met. When he danced, his skill was obvious, but when he sang…

He was so committed to the performance, so completely unselfconscious, I felt ashamed for caring what anyone else might think of him.

Veronica’s voice startled me. “Please don’t take this the wrong way. He’s really cute, but his voice is…”

I completed her thought so she wouldn’t have to. “Fucking terrible.” I tried to sigh, but it turned into a laugh.

“Is he pretending to be that bad?” Veronica’s expression was confused and hopeful.

“You couldn’t pretend to sing that badly if you tried. No. He is completely and utterly tone-deaf.” I slowly shook my head. “And yet, he feels compelled to sing in public.”

“Maybe he does it to be funny.” Veronica cocked her head and watched him with a fond expression. “It’s kind of adorable.” She always talked about what a dork John was, and she never apologized for him. “He’s not your… student, is he?”

“No!” I didn’t mean to snap. “He’s not. He never was.”

“And you didn’t… hire him to come with you?”

“Really?” My mouth dropped open. “You think I’d bring an escort to my niece’s birthday party?”

“I just thought maybe since Charlie was gonna be here…”

“I had no idea you’d invited Charles. Thanks for the heads-up, by the way. I wasn’t even sure Austin was going to come. We ran into Mom and Honey the other night. Honey brought it up, and Mom invited him in that half-ass polite Southern lady way that’s not really an invitation. And to anyone else, Austin’s usually like ‘Sure, bro, let’s hang later,’ even though he doesn’t mean it. But apparently, this time…” I gestured at Austin crooning on the gazebo stage.

“He likes you.”

Austin had reached the bridge in the song. He was rocking out with his bottom lip between his teeth, confusingly sexy and mortifying at the same time.

“You like him.”

The way she looked at me, there was no point in denying it. “I do, but… he’s twenty-six. I’m sixteen years older. Look at him. Why would a guy like that be into me?”

Veronica scowled. “Older men are hot. Aren’t you, like, a daddy now?”

“Okay. First of all, eww. I don’t like being called that, especially by my sister. And it’s really not like that with him and me. I don’t want people thinking it is.”

“Who cares what anybody thinks? He’s obviously really into you.” Onstage, Austin had reached the dramatic conclusion of the song. He held out the notes on each refrain while John lent background vocals. “He’s singing to you. Perfect song choice for the record. He clearly gets you. Don’t overthink it.”

As if that should have been so easy for me.

Austin’s song finally came to an end. Veronica cheered so loudly that, for a moment, it didn’t register that other people were clapping too. I glanced over my shoulder—no sign of Charles yet—and everyone was smiling. Apparently, they judged Austin’s terrible singing charming.

Maybe it was the outfit.