Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“Planning on going into battle?”
He smiled. “You know what they say, love is a battlefield.”
Ansel rose to his elbows. “Love?”
Fitch’s heart leaped into his throat. Stupid mouth. The perfect example of a sex-addled brain. He tried to swallow and shrugged. “Don’t panic, it’s just a figure of speech.”
There was a moment of tense silence while he silently urged Ansel to forget the blunder.
After a few beats, Ansel’s shoulders relaxed and a corner of his mouth tipped up. “I think you have them eating out of your hand.”
Relief flooding his system, Fitch closed his eyes. “Z and Tam, maybe, but I’m not sure about Lirim.”
Ansel snuggled back into position on his side. “Lirim has been acting out of sorts lately. Don’t take it personally.”
After spending the day packing, moving the furniture to the basement, and hauling the boxes to Z’s place, they’d ordered Chinese and ate on the living room floor. The guys told stories about how they met and how they formed their dance group, but Lirim had remained aloof. Even so, Fitch enjoyed the day a hell of a lot more than he’d anticipated. Z was hilarious, Tam was really polite, and Ange was a firecracker. Plus, they were all very protective of Ansel.
“Tell me what happened this morning with your family,” Ansel said, drawing circles on his chest.
“My sister is beyond thrilled I’m dating you. As soon as she heard your name she got all excited. You may have a crazy fan on your hands.”
He felt Ansel’s smile against his skin, and the warm breath fanned his nipple, causing it to pebble in the chilled night air.
“And your parents?” The caution in his voice twisted Fitch’s insides. With Ansel’s history it probably seemed like a fairy tale to have parents who loved you unconditionally. Fitch swallowed the worry he’d been keeping at bay since he left his parents’ house. It wasn’t like they’d disowned him. But there was still a hole in his chest and he couldn’t forget the look on his dad’s face.
“That’s a work in progress.”
Ansel rose again, a quick and graceful move, to stare down at him. “What happened?”
“Nothing, don’t worry. It’s just a lot for them to deal with. We just need to give them some time.”
“I knew it. I knew this was a bad idea.”
“Stop it. This is anything but bad, we both know it.” To emphasize his point, Fitch pulled Ansel down for a kiss.
Their tongues tangled and Ansel softened against his chest with a moan. “I don’t want to let you down,” he mumbled between breaths.
Fitch smoothed a palm down Ansel’s spine and clutched his perfect ass cheek, tilting his hip up as his cock filled. “Impossible.”
“What if your family doesn’t approve of us—of me?” Ansel looked at his chest. “I’m not your average gay man.”
“I don’t want average. I want amazing. I want you.”
Ansel stopped their frantic kiss with hands to Fitch’s shoulders. “I’m serious. After everything, if they don’t like me, it’s all fucked.”
“I’m not saying it will be sunshine and puppy dogs, but you really don’t have to worry so much. Just can we please keep kissing?”
He rubbed a soothing hand on Ansel’s thigh and waited. He wouldn’t push, but he did hope that one day he’d be able to introduce his family to the guy who’d changed his life forever.
* * *
Fitch was watching ESPN and waiting for Ansel to call on Tuesday evening when his phone rang. Recognizing his parents’ number, he gritted his teeth and answered.
“Fitch?”
He sucked in a breath at his mom’s tentative voice and the telltale hollow echo that meant she was on speakerphone. He was prepared for anything—another lecture by his dad, begging, maybe even crying on his mom’s part. He just hoped that when it was over they’d all be able to look one another in the eyes.
“Yeah, Ma?”
He waited while his parents whispered to each other. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but he could tell his mom had won.
When she finally spoke again, her words were confident. “We would like to invite you and your beau to dinner this Sunday.”
His stomach clenched. Dinner. Christ, he was overcome with appreciation for his parents even while he was filled with dread. Was Ansel ready to meet the parents? Hell, they’d just gotten back together. How would he deal with the pressure of family?
He let out a frustrated sigh. “That’s nice, Ma. Thanks. Maybe it’s a little too soon, though. I wouldn’t—”
“Your mother wants to meet the man you’re carrying on with, son. You will bring him to dinner on Sunday.” His father’s voice was stern like when Fitch was a boy and he’d done something that displeased him. Franco Donovan had never shouted at his children, he’d never had to. Because he had that tone. The one that meant Fitch had better do exactly what he was told or there would be dire consequences. And even though he was almost thirty years old, that tone still worked.