Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 49490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Rob moved around the desk and offered me his hand, which I ignored. Yep, I was an awkward asshole, and I was feeling testy. He had no idea the lengths I’d gone through to keep my family out of my private life. They’d never come close to having dinner with one of my lovers.
I wanted to snarl and growl that this was no laughing matter, but melodrama wasn’t really my style.
He wriggled his fingers insistently and this time, I took his hand, grunting as he yanked me to my feet.
“Quit worrying. I promise I won’t embarrass you, Mateo. I’ve been playing straight and narrow my whole life. I know how to be polite and occasionally even charming without leading anyone on. The worst thing that could happen is that your family might get the impression that I don’t hate you. And that we might actually be—dare I say it…friends.”
“Don’t get carried away.”
Rob pulled me to his chest and laughed. “C’mon…admit it. You like me.”
“I like your dick. That’s different,” I mumbled into his shirt.
“It’s a start.” He smacked my ass and released me.
My gaze snagged on his broad shoulders as I reached for the leather jacket on the hook beside the door.
Focus, man. Focus.
“We aren’t selling friendship here, Vilmer. They’re worried I was giving out family secrets for a freaking bake-off, so you gotta reciprocate. Show me something about bagels.”
“Okay…like what?”
“Up to you. It just has to be real. My cousins will quiz me, and I can’t fake it. Sal’s too smart for that.”
Rob frowned. “Ooh, pressure. Remember, I’m the money man—not much of a cook at all, but…I’ll think of something. Come over tonight?”
With anyone else, the sly wink and corny innuendo might have been a deal-breaker. Not for me. I was hooked on Rob.
“I probably should,” I replied in a deep tone.
He closed the distance between us and kissed me roughly. “See you later, sexy.”
I headed next door, slipped through the side entry, and went upstairs to my apartment above the pizzeria. The place was small and cramped with bulky furniture that had belonged to my parents and grandparents. On warm summer nights, the smell of garlic, basil, and tomatoes wafted through windows left open in deference to the heat. I could hear the conversations of random passersby and squawking seagulls. And on rare days off, I could hear my cousins chattering in the kitchen.
It wasn’t glamorous in the slightest, but we owned the building, so there was no rent. Ideal for a postcollege, temporary living situation. This had been home base since I’d come back to help take care of the business after Uncle Sal died. Dad had insisted that I take apartment, and…I’d never left.
Times had been tough. Dad had been heartbroken, Aunt Sylvie a wreck, my cousins walking around like zombies. A few years later, Dad had suffered his first heart attack.
Hospital bills had piled up, and we’d all done whatever was necessary to stay afloat. Sal had been my roommate before he’d gotten married and had a couple of kids. Then Jimmy had moved in. He’d lasted exactly one month. According to him, I was too serious, and I’d forgotten how to have fun. Maybe so. Or maybe my days of partying seven nights a week had passed.
Fair enough, but what was once a nice solution had become a habit. I was surrounded by artifacts of my heritage—photo albums, knickknacks, harvest-gold lamps, and candy dishes from the old country that weighed ten pounds or more. This wasn’t the first time I’d recognized my predicament. My world had become eerily small, completely centered on family.
Until Rob came along and insinuated himself into the fabric of my everyday life.
Even in the privacy of my apartment, I felt exposed. I wanted to be angry, but the feeling wouldn’t stick. I tried, damn it. The problem was that I liked teasing him, touching him, sucking him. Fine…I liked Rob.
But that was between us. No one else.
And now…Sunday dinner with the family? It was too much.
So why was I grinning like an idiot?
13
ROB
My agent was a good guy and a real pro. We weren’t friends necessarily, but we’d developed a good working relationship over the years. Bill had a sort of “Leave it to me, kid” paternal vibe that instilled a measure of confidence that he’d have my best interests at heart…and my bottom line. That trust had paid off in spades.
Thanks to Bill, I’d worked for top-tier organizations and had made a fuckton of dough throughout my career. I was retired now, though, and my new focus was bagels. Not something a guy who dealt with commissioners, GMs, and hungry athletes could relate to. However, I was still his client, and there was no one I trusted more with my coming-out story.
Not that I was going to tell a story. No, thanks. It would be a quick statement. No fanfare whatsoever.