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“Toby.”
I ignored Alastair and continued to act out. I couldn’t stop now. I was going for the Oscar.
“Toby!”
A chill went through me at the steel in his tone, and I swiveled my head to look at him.
Holy fucking shit.
He was standing in the entrance to the kitchen, regarding me with a ‘you’d better get your shit together and answer me, or else’ expression, and it wasn’t the same as being called out by my mom. Hell, it wascompletelydifferent. He wasn’t yelling and throwing things. He was calm and had raised his voice, but he actually smiled.
“Stop acting like a child.”
That was something my mom had never said to me, probably because she was the child in the relationship. Oh God, was I acting like her? I looked at the pot in my hand and contemplated what Alastair had said.
I put the pot down very quietly on the counter and straightened, taking a deep breath and turning to face Alastair.
“That’s better,” he said, and the approval in his words sent a jolt to my cock.
I nodded, wiping a hand across my face. “I’m sorry.”
“I know. Come here.”
Boy, did I ever feel like a child now. I walked over there feeling like my daddy was disappointed with me.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be acting this way,” I admitted.
Alastair took my hands and stared into my eyes. “That’s true, but I need to tell you something. I met Nigel Farrow through Grindr four years ago.” He rubbed my fingers with his own, settling me.
“He’s fucking beautiful,” I whispered.
“He’s a model.”
I tried to pull my hands away, but Alastair wouldn’t let me.
Figured. A model. I wasn’t that surprised.
“Toby, the last time I had sex with Nigel was almost a year ago.”
Well, that was a relatively long time, I supposed.
“Yeah, but—”
“Hmm?”
“How—” I cleared my throat and tried to sound remotely like an adult. “How often did you guys hook up?”
Alastair blinked and seemed confused by my question.
I took a deep breath. “It’s just that I got the impression you only hooked up once with another guy, then moved on. Like, that you only ever had one-night stands.” It sounded like such a petty distinction. “Forget it. Let me finish cleaning up.”
“Toby, you’re right about my habits. Only…Nigel and I were different.”
“Okay. Like, I don’t have a problem with that—except he’s here now…in town. And he probably wants to hook up with you again…”
“I’m sure he does, but that isn’t going to happen.”
He said it in such a definitive way that I felt better. “Really? You’re sure?”
