by Tara Lain
Theodore let his breath out very slowly and silently. “Did that happen this time?”
“Yeah. Yesterday they had a bunch of these stupids over for a pool party, and they brought their stupid kids, and I had to pretend to like them, and then they started in on provers.”
“Perverts?”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“Do you know what that means?”
“Yeah.” His voice cracked. “It means you.”
“What did you do, Andy?” Theodore glanced over as they pulled up to a light.
Tears started to flow down his face. “I told them I didn’t feel well and went to my room.”
Theodore leaned over and hugged him. “That was very good thinking. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’ll have a talk with Grandpa and make sure this doesn’t happen again.”
“I don’t have to go back, do I, Dad?”
A beep from a car behind made him release Andy and press the accelerator. “I’m afraid you do, dear, but not until after I’ve talked to Grandpa.” Shit, not an event he anticipated.
That made Andy cry harder. “I-I don’t wanna.”
“They love you, Andy. They just have different beliefs than we do. You know what we do about other people’s beliefs, right?”
“Re-respect them.” He took a breath. “But, Dad, they don’t respect miiiiine.” He sobbed.
“Well, they’re grown-ups, and sometimes adults think they’re smarter than children.” He caressed his son’s dark hair. “In this case, they’re wrong. I’ll speak to Grandpa. But first we have to stop at Wahoo’s and get fish tacos and follow it up with a half-gallon of Golden Spoon peanut butter frozen yogurt.” He looked over as he inched down the road. “Think that might make both of us feel better?”
Andy nodded, but he didn’t smile. He just wiped his nose.
Chapter Six
ALMOST 6:00 p.m. Damn! Theodore screeched the car into the driveway and ran up the garage stairs to the apartment. The past two days had been insane! Professor Thurston, for whom he was TA, had gone out of town to present a paper at a conference, leaving Theodore with essentially all his work. The professor might be a brilliant teacher, but he forgot stuff—stuff like telling Theodore he was leaving until a frantic call Sunday evening dropped the bomb.
Late, late, late.
He slammed into the apartment and raced to his bedroom. Well, racing might be overstating the case since the living room was pretty small, but the principle applied.
Andy looked up from his homework spread all over the coffee table. Jillian, the sixteen-year-old babysitter, waved and went back to her laptop.
A second later in his bedroom, as Theodore stood in his boxer briefs staring at his minimal wardrobe, Andy stuck his head in the door. “Hiya, Dad.”
“Hi.”
“Whatcha doing?”
“Trying to figure out what to wear.”
He wandered in and plopped on the unmade bed. “You got a date?”
“Uh, kind of. I mean, yes.”
“So what kind of guy is he?”
“What do you mean?” Was his son checking his date’s résumé?
“You know, is he, like, really conservative—I don’t mean, like, Republican, I mean, does he wear ties and stuff? Or is he, like, ace?”
“Ace?”
“Uh, like, rad, cool?”
“Definitely cool.”
“Okay.” He flipped on his stomach and pointed toward the closet. “Black jeans.”
Theodore pulled his one good pair from the hanger and slid them on.
“Excellent. Now white shirt.”
“Really? Isn’t that kind of conservative?”
“No, you gotta trust me.”
“Okay.” He shrugged on the shirt. “Do I tuck it in?”
“Of course. Black belt.”
He did as instructed. Had to admit those jeans did show off his ass and the shirt made him look more mature and a bit—well, cool.
“Okay, now take the vest you wear to work.”
“You mean, like, a suit vest?”
“Yeah.”
“Which one? I have two.”
“Let me look.” He hopped to a cross-legged position as Theodore held up his navy blue vest and his tan vest.
“That one.” He pointed toward the tan.
“You sure?” Andy nodded. Hell, humor the kid. I can take it off later. He slid on the vest and—son of a bitch if it didn’t look bitchin’. “Hey, good job, this looks—” He grinned. “—ace.”
“Told ya.”
Theodore sat on the edge of the bed next to his fashion consultant. “I won’t be real late, but go to bed on time for Jillian so you can get up and be smart tomorrow. How’s your homework?” Personally he thought they gave second graders too much, but he didn’t want to have Andy falling behind.
“I’ve got a lot done.”
“Ask Jillian to check it over when you’re finished, okay? If you need me, call me.”
“Sure. Have a good time with the ace.” He flashed his little teeth with the big gap in the middle.
“I will, derp.” He kissed Andy’s nose.
“Dad, nobody says that. Especially not grown-ups.”
“How could someone so hopelessly uncool have such an awesome son?”
“Good question.”
Theodore’s mouth froze open. Andy fell back on the bed, laughing hysterically. After a moment, Theodore joined in.
Five minutes later, he ran to the car and checked the address of the restaurant Snake had chosen in Dana Point. The directions were exact, and after fifteen minutes of no thinking because he didn’t have time, he pulled in to the big shopping center at Crown Valley. He drove around a couple of minutes staring at signs and then parked and headed toward Maria’s, which was tucked in the corner of a bunch of shops between a UPS store and a dentist.
He ducked inside, where he was greeted by great smells and Snake standing next to a curved banquette against the windows. Theodore stopped. Holy shit. Snake wore slim black pants and a striped dress shirt, open at the neck. He still sported boots, but not motorcycle boots. His messy, sexy mane of hair had been partly pulled back so the sides didn’t fall in his face and his amazing cheekbones stood out, while a stud had replaced the bar in his nose and only three of his ear holes were filled. Of course, the rolled-up shirtsleeves still showed off the color riot on both arms and the open neck featured the black, winding vines.
Snake walked slowly up to Theodore, demonstrating exactly why he’d gotten the nickname with his loose-hipped, gliding, boneless walk. He smiled.
Theodore swallowed hard. “Who are you and what have you done with Snake?”
“Crystal Streams, at your service.”
“But why?”
“Why what?”
“Why’d you change?”
He touched Theodore’s totally undisciplined hair. “I have a date with you, and you’re conflicted about my, shall we say, personal style? I just wanted to show a little diversity.”
Theodore frowned. “But I don’t want you to change for me.”
“No? If your boss walks in here tonight, won’t you feel more comfortable with me looking like this? Or should I have kept on my skulls T-shirt?” He gave a small smile.
Theodore’s frown deepened.
Snake tucked the wandering finger under his chin and raised it so their eyes met. “It’s a small thing, Teddy Bear. Let me do it for you. You look quite lovely, by the way.”
“Andy. He assured me the outfit is cool. No, wait. Ace. It’s ace.”
Snake laughed his low, sexy chuckle. “The kid sounds cool. I hope I get to meet him—someday. Let’s sit down.” He pointed to the banquette. “Here or out on the enclosed patio? I warn you, there’s no view but the food is sonnet-worthy.”
“Here’s fine.” Theodore glanced at Snake’s face as he pushed out the table a little to make Theodore’s seating easier. Did he really say sonnet-worthy? Who’d think of that—except maybe me?
&nbs
p; The minute their butts hit the seats, the busboy rushed over with a basket of fragrant bread, plus oil and vinegar, and their water glasses. The waiter followed him to take their drink orders.
Snake speared him with those sexy green eyes. “Can you drink on a school night?”
“I can probably manage one glass of wine with few repercussions.”
“Red or white?”
“Whichever you prefer.”
Snake glanced up at the waiter. “I remember the sauvignon blanc being good. Let’s try that.”
The waiter walked toward the bar, and Snake leaned back. “Tell me about your son.”
Okay, they were on to the getting to know you portion of the evening, a segment that always made Theodore a little anxious. Don’t be dumb. I want to know more about this man—I gotta share. “As I told you, I think, he’s seven—going on twenty-five. Part of that’s pure sophistication and part is sadly from the slings and arrows of growing up with a gay dad.”
“Does he get bullied?”
Theodore frowned. “I don’t think so. He seems popular with the other kids and well-liked. But Sunday he described some people he’d heard talking as ‘homophobic.’ Pretty damned big word for a seven-year-old—and one I wish he could have waited to learn.”
“Shit, I’ll bet. How do you happen to have him? Not to imply you’d have it any different.” He gave that half grin.
The least favorite part of the getting to know you. “The usual way.” He forced a grin to support the snarky comment.
Snake grinned back. Good. “I just meant, did you not know you were gay until late? I know it happens.”
“No. I knew early. He was just a wild experiment with my best friend.” At least the best friend part was true. “She got pregnant and I got Andy when she died.”
“Holy crap! I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“So you must have loved her a lot.”
Theodore smiled. “I did—in a wonderful best friend way.”
“She knew?”
“Oh yes. But we had great times together, and, I guess, if she’d lived, I’d still be married to her now. Maybe forever.”
“Wow. That’s quite a story—and you’re quite a guy, Mr. Walters.”
Theodore shook his head vehemently. “If you’d known Esther, you’d know how easy it was. And I got Andy. No price too great.”
Silence.
Theodore looked up to find Snake gazing at him with a sweet little smile. “What?”
The waiter swooped down with wine, and the moment evaporated.
Theodore took a sip. “Good. So tell me about you. Where were you born?”
“My, we’re starting at the beginning.” He chuckled, and shots of adrenaline hit Theodore’s heart and balls all at once. Snake sipped his wine. “Born in Texas.”
“Oh. Why’d you leave?”
“I had no reason to stay. Had no real family and hated Texas.”
“I don’t mean to sound, uh, well, stereotypical, but you strike me as a man’s man, Texas kind of guy.”
He slowly turned his wineglass. “Not meaning to be stereotypical, but Texans, as a general rule, don’t like tats and piercings and do like guns. They do like church and don’t like fags. We had nothing in common.”
“So you’re not a gun guy?”
“Oh hell no.”
“Sounds like personal experience.”
“Yep. My daddy had a gun rack the size of Dallas and loved killing things on four legs or two.” He glanced up, and a muscle in his jaw jumped. “The latter might be birds—or might not.”
Theodore swallowed. “To quote you, ‘Holy crap.’”
The waiter smiled his way to the table for their orders and, on Snake’s recommendation, Theodore asked for the sole piccata preceded by a caprese salad. They decided to split the salad.
When Georgio, the waiter, left the table, Theodore said, “How did you end up with a gun-toting father and a mother who’d name you Crystal Streams? Did they ever meet?”
Snake smiled, but it was tight. “Only briefly. She was and is a free spirit, pretty as a unicorn, smart as a firefly. She flew into my father’s life, got pregnant, had me, was at least bright enough to understand he was headed on a mean street to hell, and took off.”
“Taking you with her?”
“Also briefly. My father found us at her latest commune and threatened permanent damage if she didn’t return ‘his son.’” Snake said the last with a drawl of great significance. “He saw this as a chance to make his mark on the future by creating mini-him.” He took a large swallow of wine. “Of course, he wasn’t gay and his mirror image cracked.”
“What did you do?”
“Left home at fourteen. Never considered going back to my mother, since she’d shown little interest in me after my father took me away. Made my way to California, where I heard they had ‘big water and too many homos,’ to quote my father. Sounded like heaven to me. Has been ever since.” His green eyes shimmered. “Recently got even better.”
Theodore slowly released a long breath. “Sounds like I’m not the only one with a story to tell.”
Their food arrived, smelling so good Theodore practically drooled. As the waiter set it in front of them with the salad in the middle to share, Snake said, “Hey, seen any good movies lately?”
Theodore smiled at the strategic change of subject and picked up his fork. “I’ve seen Cars five times, Kung Fu Panda a dozen times, and Guardians of the Galaxy fifteen times, and that’s all in the last month, I swear.”
“Should I see them?” Snake took a bite.
“Probably not. I never have time for movies that Andy doesn’t want to see.”
“So tell me about your dissertation.”
He felt his eyes get wide. “Oh, you don’t want to hear about that.”
“Why?” He grinned.
Leave it to Snake to say the least obvious thing. “How do you feel about romance novels?”
Snake looked up sharply. “You better give me some context.”
“Well, I gathered information from literally thousands of modern romance writers in an effort to demonstrate the direct link between Jane Austen’s novel tradition and the current billion-dollar market.”
“No shit?” He grinned. “Historical or contemporary?”
Interesting question. “Actually, it’s not a question of subgenre but more about the writing style, the use of social realism contrasted with romance tropes, and the early reference to what would become deep point of view in modern literature.”
“Fascinating.”
Theodore snorted.
Snake raised an eyebrow. “Do you read romance novels?”
Theodore glanced at Snake’s face. He didn’t look judgmental. “The dissertation is more about establishing a literary link. Romance novels are maligned by intelligentsia, while at the same time being the number-one selling book genre in the world by double. I decided that many people, women mostly, couldn’t be as dumb as academia would have us believe, so I set out to investigate the truth. What I found were these deep literary roots in the genre.”
“That’s doubly fascinating and not what I asked.” A dimple popped in his cheek.
Theodore blew a motorboat noise between his lips. “Okay. If we keep this far off the record, I’d never read a romance novel when I decided to do the research, but now I’m a total addict. Good thing they invented ebooks, or Andy and I would have to live on a pile of paperbacks.” He looked up at the crinkles beside Snake’s eyes. “Have you ever read one, Mr. Smiley Face? They’re frequently way more than adequate, occasionally brilliant, and most often extremely satisfying.”
“Yeah, actually. I read a few gay romance novels when I was checking out—shall we say, the genre?” He laughed.
Waiter Georgio appeared at the table with two small menus in his hands. “Can I tempt you with dessert?”
The front door of the restaurant opened. An older woman and man walked in—followed by Sean R
ance. What the ever-loving, living fuck were the chances of that? Theodore shifted on his seat.
“Teddy? Do you want a lemon tart or something?”
“What? Oh, uh—” He glanced toward the door again, where Rance made slow progress with the older couple directly toward Theodore. “No, thanks. No dessert.” He pulled out his phone and checked it. Maybe if I don’t look up, he’ll miss me.
“Teddy, is something wrong?”
He glanced up at Snake, who looked at him with a slight frown.
“No, I—”
“Ted, hey, man, what are the chances I’d see you here? I thought I was the only one in the know on this great place. Like I’ve been telling my folks, best Italian in Orange County.”
Theodore kind of winced and dragged his eyes from Snake’s. “Hi, Sean. Yes, what a coincidence.” He forced himself not to look at Snake. “Are these your parents, then?” He slid from the booth and extended his hand to the man. “Hello, I’m Theodore Walters. Sean and I work together.”
Though he shook the man’s hand, the woman said, “Oh, how nice to meet another colleague of our Sean. What do you do at the college?”
“I’m a TA like Sean, just completing my orals.”
Her face cooled like someone opened a window on the arctic. “Oh yes, Sean’s mentioned you.”
Rance stared pointedly at Snake. “Are you going to introduce us, Ted?”
Snake rose to his considerable height and extended a hand. “I’m Streams, a friend of Theodore’s.” He said Theodore with just enough emphasis to make Rance’s smile falter a little.
The parents stared openly at Snake’s tattooed arms.
“Are you an academic, Streams?” Rance looked just a touch narrow-eyed.
The mother took Rance’s arm. “Sean, dear, they’re waiting for us.”
“Oh, sorry.” He stared at Snake with a hard-to-define fascination. “Maybe I’ll see you again? Bye, Te—Theodore. Catch you at work.”
They walked toward the door to the patio.
Theodore released his breath long and slowly.
Snake muttered, “I’ll bet you could catch him at work since he’s likely contagious. You have to work with that asshole?”
Theodore flopped back on the banquette. “Kind of. He’s the other TA in my department, which makes him a competitor of sorts. At least for approval and recognition.” He ran a hand over his face. “I’m so sorry.”