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“Making a phone call.”
She swung around to pin me with a side eye. “Now? He knew I was coming, didn’t he?”
Oh shit. Just what they needed. An already insulted Mama Boudreaux.
“I don’t think he knew the exact time. He’s calling his mom.”
“Uh-huh.” Joanne Boudreaux, queen of trash talk and skeptical tones. “Mmm. Well, tell him to get his self down here and make sure he’s dressed right. I don’t want to see any tennis shoes at the table.”
“I already told him, Mama.”
“Good. Marcus, Jasmine, and the boys will be here in a minute.”
“How do you know?” I asked, following her across the entry hall. “I haven’t spoken to him all day.”
“Marcus sent me a text.”
I should have known. Marcus loved being a second son.
“All right, but you need to be nice to Adrián,” I cautioned. “He’s scared as hell of messing up in front of you.”
“He should be, after talking all that social media mess. You know I will not hesitate to give him the business if I need to.” She hung her scarf and jacket on the coatrack and clacked across the room towards the kitchen. “Are you cooking already? It best not be catered, boy. I will buy my own groceries and cook my own meals.”
And she damn sure would, even after a long flight in high heels, so I wasn’t going to fight this battle. “There’s enough for you to do if you’re so set on it. But Adrián is already making a pork shoulder. Should be ready to come out.”
She went from skeptical to impressed while skeptical, which was an upgrade. I grinned and jogged up the stairs to find my wayward . . . whatever he was. Man? It sounded too permanent, considering we hadn’t yet put a label on our relationship, but I was pretty sure it fit. And I was pretty sure we were permanent, given the idle murmurings about him really liking my house. I liked it too. Even better if he was in it more often. Especially since Marcus was fixing to move out once he and Jasmine got married this summer.
“Knock, knock,” I said, opening my bedroom door. “Are you—”
Adrián wasn’t exactly as I’d expected to find him. Instead of pacing while he spoke, as was his usual MO, he was sitting in the corner with his knees up and his head tilted against the wall. One hand gripped the phone while the other balled into a fist.
Concern shot through me. I wondered if I should leave, but one glance at his tight mouth and narrowed eyes prompted me to sit next to him on the floor.
“Yeah,” he said flatly into the phone. “I get it.”
“What’s going on?” I murmured.
Adrián’s jaw clenched. He put his phone on speaker so I could hear the conversation.
“—not that I don’t support you, mijo. I love you, and I saw this coming. I did. The way you always talked about Simeon—”
Holy shit, he’d come out to her. My heart seized. I grabbed his hand and brought it to my lips.
“—I knew there was something there. Some obsession or fixation, whatever you want to call it. And you know it doesn’t matter to me, you can’t help who you want to be with.”
“I can’t,” he said in the same dull voice. “And I do want to be with him. I want to live with him.”
He raised his eyes to meet my own as he said it. There was misery there, real unhappiness, but a defiance aimed at me as well. Daring me to reject his declaration. And his invitation to my house. He was such a punk. Even while being a sweetheart. I smiled against his hand and felt the fist loosen.
“Adrián . . .” A warning edge crept into her tone, one I knew well from my own mother. “How will you keep this a secret if you’re living with him?”
“I dunno, but I’m not waiting until I retire to shack up with him. Unless he doesn’t want me shacking up with him.”
I bit his knuckles. He cracked the tiniest smile.
“So, you’re saying to me that your reputation no longer matters? Your father’s feelings?”
Ah-ha. And here the bullshit was. The reason he was coiled and ready to snap despite her appearing to be overall accepting of his queerness. It was okay as long as it was hidden. Discreet.
“I’m supposed to ignore my own happiness and sneak around forever just to spare his feelings?” Adrián demanded. “Let’s say we did wait until I retire. Fine. But Dad would still find out after that. Or you thought I’d keep Simeon a secret until I fucking die?”
“Shhh,” I murmured, pressing closer to him.
“Nah, fuck this.” Adrián slammed his fist back against the wall. “This is bullshit. Just because Simeon’s a man—”
“Do you not understand your father will die of a heart attack?”
