More by Sloan Parker (best ebook reader for chromebook .txt) 📕

he got shot down a lot. He never wanted to talk about his love life. Which was a shame. He was so good looking, so sweet.”

“Did you ever ask my dad what happened? Where they were?”

“No. After he yelled at that cop, no one wanted to push him into talking about that night.”

“What cop?”

“The one that questioned us before we left for the hospital. John got so mad at him. Well, we all did. He kept hinting that Danny was suicidal, that there was something wrong with him, which wasn't true.”

“What did he say to my dad?”

“They were in the other room, so I didn't hear. I didn't know what it was about until your dad's wedding. Phil, Roger, and I were seated together at the reception. We ended up talking about Danny. I mentioned that stupid cop, and Phil told us what happened. The cop called Danny a fag. Which was stupid. Danny was shy. Quiet. He wasn't gay. The cop was just an ass, you know. John never did stand for anyone talking shit about Danny.”

I stared at the photo again. The pieces were coming together, clicking in place like hitting the right numbers in a combination lock. Danny Conner was gay. I had no doubt.

Had he made a play for someone that night like Maria suggested? For my father?

I finally found my voice. “Thanks again for the pictures.”

“No problem. You let me know if I can help with anything else. I can't wait to see John.”

Too bad for her, I had no plans to put together any sort of celebration where my father was concerned. Perhaps I'd celebrate when I had him out of my life for good.

The front door opened as I hung up the phone.

I tucked the pictures in my laptop bag. “Hey. Have fun?”

“No.” Richard stepped into the living room. “People shouldn't invest money when they don't have a clue what the hell they're doing.”

“Nobody liked your investment plan?”

“Nobody would listen to me. I've never had such a shitty response.”

Matthew slid past Richard and headed toward the other end of the couch. He never looked my way. Before I could say anything to him, Richard yanked me off the couch and into his arms.

“It doesn't matter,” he said. “Missed you tonight.”

“Yeah? I uh... kinda wish I'd gone with you.”

His eyes lit up, and the frustration vanished. He dipped his head and kissed my neck.

I glanced at Matthew. He sat on the end of the couch, his gaze fixated on the floor. Richard rubbed his erection against my hip and whimpered a low groan.

“You want something?” I asked.

“You know I do. Been thinking about it all night. Matthew looked damn good. Could barely keep my hands off him.”

“He is pretty irresistible.” I expected to hear a sign of appreciation from Matthew. He offered nothing.

Richard kissed me. He tasted odd, different, but I couldn't put it all together before his mouth was gone. He stepped backward and tugged me with him. “Come on, kid. Let's go to bed.”

“You two go ahead. I'm gonna watch some TV.” Matthew dived forward, fumbled for the remote, and slumped onto the couch again, curling up in the corner.

Richard's hands tightened on my waist. “Matthew?”

“It's fine. Really. I know we have a deal. You guys can maybe find something to do so you don't break the deal, right?” He waved us off with a quick gesture of his arm.

Richard didn't make a move to leave.

“I don't feel well. Don't make a big deal about it.”

Richard released me and went to him. He laid the back of his hand against Matthew's forehead. “Are you okay?”

Matthew pushed the big hand away. “Yeah. Jeez, don't worry so much. Just don't feel well enough to get off. Okay?”

Richard sat in the chair opposite Matthew. The physical distance between them unnerved me. I wanted to go to bed and forget all about it.

The television sound was muted, but Matthew stared at the screen and nothing else. A tampon commercial— including a 3-D animation on the effective absorption power as compared to a competitor's product— came on, and Matthew kept watching it like it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. I sat next to him. He shifted a few inches closer to me, then stopped as if he'd moved out of instinct before he could remind himself he wasn't up for anything.

Richard spoke in a soothing tone. “What's wrong?”

Matthew gave up on the TV and hung his head. “I can't be with you tonight. I'm sorry.”

“Can't be with us or with me?”

“With you.”

Richard's mouth gaped open. “Why?”

Matthew fixated on the television again. “You had two glasses of whiskey and two beers.”

“Shit. I didn't think about it. I usually have a few drinks. That's why I take a cab.”

“You didn't drink last time.”

“I didn't. I wasn't sure how long we'd stay. It was hard leaving Luke behind. But tonight... I was pissed no one wanted to work with me. I thought since we weren't going to be home right away— I don't know what the hell I was thinking. I didn't mean to break my promise. I do things a certain way, act a certain way, when I'm working. I didn't think.” He stood and took a step toward the couch.

Matthew flinched.

Richard sank back into the chair. “I'd never hurt you.”

“You can't trust people when they're drinking. They aren't the same, even when they love you. My dad used to... ” He shrugged. “It doesn't matter. I can't be with you when you drink.”

So there it was. His own fucking father. If it hadn't been for men like Richard and Walter who got along with their dads, I'd have concluded fatherhood made men evil.

“Oh God.” Richard raked a hand through his hair.

How much had Matthew's father hurt him? And how the hell could anyone think of hurting him? Pain stabbed at my chest and clamped down around my lungs. It wasn't the pain of my own life.

“You can trust me,” Richard said. “I would never hurt