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He’d fucked me once more since then too, but we actually didn’t have a lot of time together. I worked four days a week but went in late and worked late too, so by the time I got up, he was gone, and by the time I got home, he was asleep.
“He’s not a strange man. He’s my boss’s best friend.” When she didn’t respond, I added, “He’s a good guy. Protective. You’d like him.” She would. Marcus could be a little rough around the edges, but I had no doubt he curbed it in important situations or that he would charm the hell out of a guy’s parents. He was definitely the kind of man good parents wanted their queer sons to bring home.
“You like this boy?”
Yes, yes I did, but that was beside the point. I didn’t think anything other than sex would ever happen between us, and I didn’t even know what I would want. Add in my upcoming move that I still needed to tell my folks about, and hookups were the extent of what I would ever have with Marcus.
“We’re just friends.” It might have only been recently that I felt comfortable calling him that, knowing him well enough now and all, but I did. “He’s also nine years older.”
“Bring him home. I want to meet him.”
“Oh God, Mama. I’m not doing that. It would be weird. He’s not my boyfriend.”
“So? He’s your friend. Friends can’t meet your family? The man you’re living with can’t meet your family? If he’s not willing to come eat some food with us, then that tells me he’s up to no good.”
I was fucked now. She wouldn’t let this go. That wasn’t how my mom worked. I loved the shit out of her, but she was as stubborn as me. “I’ll talk to him.” The truth was, I needed to go and see them anyway. It was past time I told them I’d be going to Atlanta soon. Telling them when Marcus was there…well, I wasn’t sure how smart that was. But they’d be less likely to throw a fit that way.
“Thank you. I need to make sure he’s good enough for my boy.”
“Mama…it’s not like that.” Marcus could have any-damn-body. I highly doubted it would be me he fell for. Deciding to change the subject, I said, “Did I tell you one of my fish was sick? Luckily, they’re okay now. Marcus and I went to the fish store and talked to them before we put Blue into another tank and…” Shit. That wasn’t changing the subject at all.
“That’s very nice of your friend.”
“Mama…”
“That doesn’t sound only friendly to me. Just sayin’.”
“It would if you knew him…and now I’m going to get off the phone before you start making me think Marcus and I are secretly in love.”
She laughed. “I love you, Kai.”
“I know, Mama. I love you too.”
We ended the call, and damn, I felt like shit. They weren’t going to understand how I could want to move to Atlanta instead of returning to Riverside. But Atlanta did have a thriving queer community, and I had a really amazing opportunity there. I didn’t know what the fuck I wanted to do with my life, but maybe I could end up being like Declan. He’d started out as a bartender, and now he owned Driftwood.
I fucked around Marcus’s for the next couple of hours, unsure what to do. He usually got home by six unless he was meeting Corbin or one of the other Beach Bums. I got a text from Archer, giving me an update on the bar and letting me know he had a friend who could rent me an apartment. He’d sent photos, and the price was great, so I agreed immediately.
An antsy energy buzzed beneath my skin. I was bored, which yeah, I had to admit, that wasn’t hard for me. I was often bored if I wasn’t constantly moving. Something about that thought made me pick up my phone again and text Marcus.
Do you have plans after work?
Who is this?
I rolled my eyes. Is that what they call an old-man joke?
You better take that shit back, he texted, making me chuckle.
Or I could cook you dinner…if you don’t have plans, that is.
It took him about ten minutes to respond. I thought he was going to ignore me, but then the text came through. If you insist.
If I insisted, huh? That sounded very much like someone who wanted what I’d offered but didn’t want to look like he did. I do.
I grabbed my things, went to my car, tossed my wallet on the dashboard, and headed to the store. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to make. I should have looked up some recipes before I left, but thinking things through wasn’t really me.
It took a while of stalking the aisles before I made a decision. I filled the cart with everything I would need, paid, then returned to Marcus’s place, windows down, the scent of the ocean filling my car.
