by Nikki Ash
I open my front door and am met with the sound of a blaring TV. I find Dad passed out in his old, worn out recliner. He’s got the remote in his hand and he’s snoring. The man works harder than anyone I’ve ever met. I pry the clicker from his hand and turn the TV off. I shake his shoulder until he startles awake.
“What time is it?” he asks.
“Almost nine.”
“Where have you been?” He uses the lever on the side of the recliner to lower his feet to the ground.
“A friend’s house.” I plop down on the sofa.
“What friend?”
“Pops, I’m thirty-five years old and you still treat me like I’m a teenager.”
“No matter how grown you are, you’ll always be my kid.”
“Speaking of teenagers, where’s ours?”
“In his room doing homework. Can’t you hear?”
I listen and hear the tell-tale sound of loud music. I stand up. “I’m going to see how his English test went today and then head to bed. Need anything?”
“I’m good. You’re really not going to tell me who you were with?”
“Nope,” I call over my shoulder as I walk down the hallway. Coming out to Dad at twenty was hard and he didn’t accept it at first. He didn’t want me to have to deal with any more discrimination I was already going to face as a black man. Even if we live in a gay friendly town. Brigs Ferry Bay has become a mecca for gay men.
Eventually Dad came around, but only in a very abstract way. He knows I’m gay, but he doesn’t want to talk about it or acknowledge it. It’s a very don’t ask, don’t tell relationship.
It’s not an issue since I don’t see myself ever settling down. I haven’t found anyone I want to be with for longer than a week, let alone a lifetime. While it would be nice to not feel like I have to check my sexual orientation at the door, I can deal with it. I have a good life. I have friends, my job, my family, and occasionally I find someone to fuck. Not nearly as often as I’d like, but that’s on living in a small town.
I knock twice and open Eli’s door. He doesn’t hear any of it, because the damn music is too loud. I walk over to his Bluetooth speaker and press the power button. His head flips around and he scowls from where he’s sitting in front of his laptop.
“What the fuck?” he snarls.
“Watch your mouth. You’re too young to talk like that.”
“Whatever.” His teenage angst is comical.
“How’d your test go?” I ask.
“Fine.” He clicks a few buttons and pulls up his grades.
“A B is more than fine. Proud of you, E.” I give his shoulder a squeeze.
“Thanks. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it was going to be.”
“No, you were prepared. There’s a difference.”
“I guess.” He shrugs.
“Need anything before I go to bed?”
“Nah. I’m good.”
I take a quick shower and climb under the covers. It was a long ass day and I’m beat. I wonder how Lance’s night is going. It’s that thought that has me snagging my phone from the nightstand and shooting a text to him.
Me: Little miss go to bed?
I click on his contact info and program his name into my phone. On impulse, I assign him the name of Dr. Daddy.
Dr. Daddy: Apparently, she’s a night owl.
Me: Shitty.
Dr. Daddy: Thankfully a friend stopped by and let me take a power nap.
Me: That’s a real good friend.
Dr. Daddy: He is.
Me: I could come over tomorrow after my shift to help you out again.
Dr. Daddy: You don’t need to do that. I’m sure you have much better things to do on a Saturday night.
Me: Would I sound like a loser if I said no?
Dr. Daddy: Not to me. The only fun I’ve had in over a week is earlier when I took a piss without a baby in my arms.
Me: You win. That’s just sad.
Dr. Daddy: To be honest, I wasn’t much more fun before Lane came.
Me: Well, let’s change that. I’ll bring over dinner tomorrow and if the babe cooperates, we can play Xbox. I saw your Series X earlier.
Dr. Daddy: It’s a plan.
I grin at my phone. I have no business fucking with a man who hasn’t come out to anyone except me and is a new father, but I push aside all rational thoughts. This is innocent enough. Just a couple guys hanging out.
After work, I pick up my favorite fried clams and a couple lobster rolls from Martha Joy’s seafood restaurant. I drove to work today so the food didn’t get cold on the walk to Lance’s place. After I park, I text to let him know I’m here. If Lane’s sleeping, I don’t want to knock and wake her up. He tells me the door’s unlocked.
I take the elevator up and am happy when I don’t hear crying from the other side of his door. I walk in and am surprised to see the place is still clean.
“Hey,” Lance whispers from where he’s spread out on the sofa. Never in my life has the image of a half-naked man with a sleeping baby on his chest been a turn on. But seeing Lance shirtless with Lane on his chest does something to me.
“Hey.” I set the bags of food on the counter. Lance slowly gets up and disappears into his room. He returns seconds later empty handed.
“She go down okay?” I ask.
“Yeah. She’s been up most of the day, so I’m hoping for a couple hours before she wakes for her next feeding.” He shakes his head. “Fuck it’s weird hearing myself say things like that.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Oh my God. Did you get Martha Joy’s?” He opens one of the bags and inhales deeply.
“Hope it’s okay. Didn’t ask if you had a fish allergy.”
“I don’t, and this is my favorite. Thank you.” He beams at me and my fucking heart skips a beat. I’ve spent a year lusting after this man and here I am, in his house, with him standing inches from me with no shirt on. “Mind if we eat in the living room?”
“Nope.”
I close the gap between us and we stand shoulder to shoulder, divvying up the food. When we each have what we want, we take our places on his couch. I could sit in one of the high back chairs, but fuck that. I want to be close to him.
“This is so fucking good,” he says around a mouthful of lobster roll. The way he wraps his lips around it, has my horny brain making the leap to other things I want to see his lips wrapped around. I should’ve jacked off last night.
“I think you’re just sick of Chinese and pizza. I’m assuming that’s all you’ve had in a week since they’re the only two places that deliver.”
“True,” he agrees, shoving more food into his sexy as sin mouth. “But it really is my favorite.”
“You’ve got a little…” I reach over and brush some breadcrumbs from the corner of his mouth. I realize my mistake the second I touch his skin. It’s too tempting to be this close to his lips. Our eyes meet as my thumb sweeps along his entire lower lip. His pupils dilate and his breathing slows. Hot doc is into me. There’s no doubt. And because I’m a cocky bastard, I drop my hand and turn back to my food, shoving a fried clam in my mouth. He lets out a small groan. “You okay?”
“Fine,” he croaks and pushes away his Styrofoam container.
“Full?”
“Stuffed,” he breathes out.
“Then you won’t mind if I…” I reach over to snag a hunk of lobster off his roll and eat it. “You know they use lobster caught right here in Brigs Ferry Bay?”
“Makes sense.”
“Remember that patient we had a while ago, Archer? The one who fell off the lobster boat?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“He told me. We’ve gotten to be friends. He’s with Kian now. You know the cute guy who was there with him?” I carry on as though we didn’t just have a heated moment.
“He is pretty cute. But I think Archer is more my type,” he says hesitantly. This conversation is difficult for him. I remember when I first started surrounding myself w
ith gay men. I’d been keeping my sexuality private for so long, being around people who were open and unapologetic was both eye opening and uncomfortable.
I quirk a brow. “What’s your type?”
“Muscular. At least my height. Confident. Secure.”
Check, check, check, and check. I’m hot doc’s type.
“I can get behind all that.”
“What’s your type?” he asks.
I quickly run through my options. I don’t want to scare him away and be too abrupt, but I also really like the guy and it’s not in my nature to filter myself.
“You’re my type, for starters.” I close the lid on my food and lean back onto the couch.
“I am?”
“Hell yeah. You’re in shape, you’re successful, and have those blue eyes.” I extend my arm along the back of the couch in his direction. Not close enough to touch him, but almost.
“That’s flattering,” he murmurs.
“Look, Lance. I know things are crazy for you, so I’m not going to make it more difficult. But you should know that the second you’re ready, I’m pursuing you.”
“Pursuing?” he repeats.
“Going on dates, hanging out, and everything that comes with it,” I say.
“Like what?” He leans slightly into me and it’s exactly enough that my fingertips graze his bare shoulder.
“Come here. Let me show you.” I turn to face him and beckon him closer.
His tongue peeks out to wet his lower lip and he inches nearer. I eat up the distance between us and kiss him, moaning at the contact. It’s everything I’d ever fantasized it being. He scoots closer and grips the back of my neck. It surprises me and excites me all at the same time. I rest one hand on his hip and the other strokes his stubbly cheek.
I want to push him down and climb on top of him. Let him feel the heat of my arousal. But some things are best savored and I want every drop of this man to last, so I pull away. His chest heaves and he’s not hiding anything under those basketball shorts. It makes it even more difficult not to maul him.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asks.
“No, doc. Not at all. I just don’t want to do too much, too fast.”
“That was my first kiss with a man, but I assure you, I’m not a virgin.”
I chuckle. “I figured that out by the baby in the other room.”
“Lane.” He smacks a hand to his forehead. “Is it bad I forgot I had a baby for a minute?”
“No.” I laugh harder. “I think all the blood rushed south for both of us.”
“Truth.” He scrubs a hand through his hair. “I now know what I was missing all those years.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I kissed girls, even my wife, there was something missing. It was fine. I wasn’t grossed out or anything. But it didn’t make me excited. And what happened with us a minute ago? That had me very excited.”
“It’s only the beginning.”
Lane chooses this moment to fuss from the other room.
“I better make her a bottle.” He stands up, and I do too.
“I think I’m going to go.”
“Why? I thought we were going to play Xbox?”
“If I stick around any longer, we won’t be playing Xbox. I’ll have you naked and under me, and I don’t think you’re ready for that quite yet.” His mouth makes an O. “I don’t work tomorrow. You want to hang out again? Don’t feel like we have to, but I like you and I want to spend more time getting to know the real you.”
“I want that.”
“Okay. I’ll text you in the morning.” I lean in for one more quick kiss. His lips fit perfectly with mine. Every part of me wants to stay and do more of this, but I know it’s a bad idea. “Bye, doc.”
“Bye.”
Chapter Five
Lance
The next few weeks are blissfully exhausting. I go back to work, despite the apprehension I feel leaving Lane with the nanny, Liz. I text and call her too often, but she’s a good sport and puts up with my neurosis.
Lane and I develop a routine. My confidence as a parent grows and I think she can feel me relax, because she sleeps a bit longer each night, helping with my constant fatigue.
What doesn’t help are the late nights I spend with Bo. He comes over after work most nights for dinner and to hang out. Each time we’re together, we spend more time making out and less time talking.
It’s exciting and new. I’ve been in a holding pattern my whole life. I was alive and functioning, but I wasn’t going anywhere. Bo has shown me how to soar, and I don’t ever want to come down.
The thing about flying though, is that eventually gravity takes hold and what goes up must come down. The crash happens abruptly one Tuesday evening. I arrive home after work and stop to grab my mail before heading upstairs to relieve Liz.
I grab the stack of letters and notice a pink slip for certified mail that the leasing department signed for. I make a pit stop and pick it up before getting on the elevator. The return address is in New York. Without opening it, I know what it is. Maisy’s parents warned me the fight for custody wasn’t over, so I knew this day would come.
I send Liz home and bathe Lane. I’m making her a bottle when Bo arrives. He had his brother’s basketball game after work to attend, so he’s later than usual. He sets a bag of groceries on the kitchen counter before coming to greet me. The man can cook, and it’s a good thing because I’m absolutely useless in the kitchen.
Between living in New York where you can have takeout delivered easier than you can get to a grocery store and Maisy being an excellent cook, I never learned. My mom definitely didn’t teach me since we had a personal chef growing up.
“Hey, doc. How are you?” He leans down and kisses first my daughter’s forehead, then me. It makes my chest ache at how easily he’s come to care about both of us.
“Fine.”
“You don’t sound fine. What’s up?” He plops down next to us on the couch and gently caresses Lane’s head while she noisily sucks down her bottle.
“I got a letter in the mail today.”
“Who from?”
“I haven’t opened it, but I think it’s from Maisy’s parents. Or their lawyers, most likely.” I want to vomit thinking about what it says. I know refusing to open it won’t make it disappear, but reading it will make it real.
“Why would you be getting a letter from them?” he asks, but he already knows. He jumps up and finds the letter in question on the island before returning to me. “You need to open it.”
“I can’t. I’ve been trying for an hour.”
“Doc, we need to see what it says so we can come up with a game plan.”
“We?”
“This guy,” he says to the heavens, like he’s praying for patience. “My ass has been here almost every night. I’ve cooked for you, cleaned for you, helped take care of your baby, and you’re still confused.”
I open my mouth to say something and then shut it. He’s right. We’ve gotten to know each other so well in a few short weeks. I don’t know how it happened, but I think he might be my boyfriend.
“Wipe that confused look off your face.” He grips my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I’m in this with you. Your fight is my fight.”
“Okay,” I deadpan.
“So, can I open it?”
I nod and he plants a chaste kiss on my lips. He then rips the letter open and unfolds the documents. He reads for what feels like an hour. I finally lose my patience.
“What does it say?” Lane finishes her bottle and I set it on the coffee table before lifting her to my shoulder for a burp.
“It says you have a court date. Maisy’s parents are suing for custody.”
I chew on the inside of my mouth, trying not cry. I haven’t cried since I don’t remember when, but with the threat of my daughter being taken away from me, my vision blurs with unshed tears.
“When is it?”
“Two weeks. You have
a family lawyer, right?”
“I hired one when I was told Lane was born and Maisy had died.”
“I think it’s time to give them a call.” He refolds the papers and sets them down before reaching over and lifting Lane from my arms. “I’m going to lay her down. I’ll be right back.”
I stare at the wall, so overwhelmed I can’t move. Even thinking about saying goodbye to Lane is too much to bear. She’s made my life exponentially more difficult, but she’s my whole world. Even the most difficult challenges have become the most rewarding and seeing her grow and change every day is the biggest honor I’ve ever experienced.
“You’re scaring me,” Bo says. He maneuvers me so we’re lying down face to face on the oversized sofa. It’s our favorite position to take every night after Lane is asleep and before he has to go home. “Talk to me.”
“I don’t know what to say. I can’t lose her.”
“You won’t. I promise. You’re her dad. You’ve been taking care of her this whole time. They don’t have a leg to stand on.”
“Except that I’m a single man who works long hours in a demanding job.”
“You have a capable nanny and you spend every possible second with her. I haven’t even been able to convince you to hire a sitter for an evening out.”
“She’s still so small.”
“I know.” He rubs circles on my back.
“What if they win?”
“They won’t—”
“But what—”
He covers my lips with his hand. “They won’t, but if they do, we’ll handle it. You’re not in this alone.”
“Thank you,” I say, but it’s muffled by his palm. He lowers his hand, resting it at the base of my throat.
“I want to make you forget about all of this for a while.”