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After we ordered from the too-perky server who eyed Weston and Steph with equal intensity, I wanted to break the tension. It was time to share the good news.

“So, Raj’s older brother, Kian, owns several LGBTQIA+ clubs in California, and he wants to be one of your sponsors during your ride next June. You and I have a call scheduled with him next week to go over the details.

“Raj set it up, and I spoke to Kian for a couple of minutes. He’s excited to be a part of the charitable aspect of your ride. Once we have a deal set with him, we can use it to solicit additional sponsorships and donor lists.”

Marketing anything was a complicated endeavor, but when I’d been riding competitively, I’d found that once one or two sponsors were on board, many others got the bug to participate. I hoped it happened in this instance because Weston deserved to be successful.

West put his arm around my shoulder and kissed my cheek. “Thank you, Bridges. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help with this.”

The kiss on my cheek was enough of a reward for me. I’d do everything I could to get that reaction every time.

Chapter Seventeen

Weston

November

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Bridges greeted Mom and me when we arrived at Eaton Cycles in Brooklyn.

Bridges was taking us to his parents’ place in the Primrose Building for a Thanksgiving dinner party. Mom and I were both nervous about it, but it had seemed important to Bridges that we attend, so there we were.

Since the Katy Trail weekend in October, Bridges and I biked in the evenings after I finished work for the courier service and helped him around the shop. Sometimes we’d bike around Manhattan, and after, he’d accompany me home and give me a sweet goodnight kiss.

Sometimes, we rode out to Long Island, though I didn’t dare go by the Hampton’s house that CJ and Claudia now shared. I was afraid if I saw them enjoying the place, my hatred for them would ignite the house and burn it to the ground. I had to figure out how to channel that anger constructively, but I wasn’t there yet.

Bridges and I had continued to grow closer, and more than one night I found myself in Bridges’ bed instead of going home. We were still taking things slowly—as in, we hadn’t taken the step of having anal sex. The snail’s pace was killing me. I legit wanted the man to bend me over and have his way with me.

After a quick embrace with my mom, he stepped around her and wrapped me up in a hug with a kiss to my temple and a whisper in my ear. “Stay with me tonight.”

Those words were an aphrodisiac to me. I’d never been with a man who seemed to wrestle with his desires verses his morals. I’d tried to explain to him that my father had never hinted that he’d disapprove of anyone I dated. Knowing how much he thought of Bridges, I was sure he’d approve—though he might be jealous of the amount of time I spent with Bridges instead of him.

“If you’re sure,” I whispered in return as Mom walked into the shop and over to a really cool display Alexis had created about the carbon fiber bike frames he’d created.

Bridges nodded and kissed my forehead. Luckily, I’d left insulated leggings and some sweatshirts at his house, borrowing his clothes to get me home to change for work at the ass-crack of dawn.

I’d never admit it, but when I wasn’t with him, I slept in his soft red sweatshirt that I’d pilfered from his dresser one evening when the temperature dipped quickly. It was a stupid teen-like thing to do, but it smelled like him, and I loved his spicy, soft scent. I had no plans to give the sweatshirt back.

“May, can I offer you a drink before we go? Mom and Dad are having a cocktail party for their friends, and I wasn’t sure if you’d want to go. Dinner is set for eight o’clock after everyone leaves. I bought a bottle of the Sauvignon Blanc I remember Claude mentioning you like. Can I get you a glass?”

“Please, Bridges.” Mom smiled as he took the stairs to his apartment, giving me a thumbs up.

Mom studied the designs Alexis had on the wall in front of her drafting table. “What are these, Weston?”

I walked next to her and began to explain about the bikes Alexis was creating for mass production with a cycling manufacturing company in Taiwan. Bridges and Alexis were preparing to go to Taipei to meet in person with the team there after the first of next year.

“That’s exciting. Are you going with him?” Mom gave me a very motherly stare that said she knew more than she was giving away.

“Why would I go along? I’m not part of his business. I’m damn lucky he’s helping me at all. I can’t take off from work for something like that, and I can’t afford a plane ticket or a hotel. I just paid our rent to the estate, which I want to talk to Uncle Edmond about. I’m still not clear on what you and he agreed to, and I feel like we’re being ripped off.”

Mom scoffed. “Now, you know Edmond is only following the letter of your father’s will, Weston. He wouldn’t rip us off, as you say.”

“Well, then he must not believe I can do this ride. If he’s making us pay rent into a trust for the time we’re living in the house, then he doesn’t think I’ll be able to do the ride. I don’t know what to think about that, Mom.”

“Think about what?” Bridges came down with a tray holding three glasses of wine and a small charcuterie board.

Mom quickly jumped in. “It’s nothing, Bridges. Tell me about those bikes. Claude would have been so proud to see how you’re flourishing.”

Was that a slam at me? Did she not see how hard I’d been working to meet the fucking requirements of Dad’s will?