Family Man (9 page)

Translation: You don’t want to have to let him in the house.

“You’re right.”

A short, cool shower, and I didn’t even let myself jerk off. I wanted to savor the lingering sense of arousal that Vin had kindled in me. I dressed quickly. I assumed our “not date” would be casual, so I didn’t dress up. I chose clothes I might have worn to the club if I’d actually been cruising—tight jeans with some strategically placed holes and a silky soft V-neck shirt that hugged my skin. Not like I had huge muscles to show off, but a slim waist and a perfectly flat stomach could be just as appealing to the right man. I hoped Vin was one of them. My one true vanity was my hair, which had to be exactly the right kind of messy. I fussed with that until the doorbell rang at four minutes to six. He was nothing if not punctual.

I rushed into the living room, ready to head off my mother in case she’d thought to answer the door, but she was still sitting on the couch, swaying in her seat, staring blankly ahead. She clutched something in her hand, something small that I couldn’t quite make out, something smaller than a fifth. I assumed it was a travel-sized bottle she’d picked up from the corner store.

I turned away, trying to put her out of my mind.

“Bye, Gram!” I called out. “Don’t wait up.” With any luck, I’d be home late.

I opened the door and found Vin looking like some kind of uber-Italian Rico Suave. Jesus Christ, he looked like fucking sex on a stick. Not only that, but he looked
nice
. Not casual nice.
Date
nice. I half-expected him to offer me a corsage. Mister “this isn’t a date” Vin Fierro was pressed and ironed, his hair combed, a gold chain glinting at his open collar. For all of his words of denial, this apparently
was
a date.

A date for which I was embarrassingly underdressed.

He raised his eyebrow at me in that smartass way of his. “You ready?”

Fuck. Now what? On a good day, I would have invited him in while I ran to my room and changed, but that would mean having him see my mother. He’d feel compelled to make small talk with her. She would blink blurrily at him. When she spoke, her words would come out jumbled and incomprehensible. She would be, in a word, unbearable.

“Umm…” I looked down at my clothes, trying to decide how rude it would be to ask him to wait on the porch while I changed. But then I looked up at him again.

He was staring at me. Not at my face, but in the general vicinity of my waist. A slow blush was creeping up his cheeks.

Maybe I wouldn’t change my clothes after all.

“Give me one second,” I told him.

I ignored the confusion on his face as I closed the door, leaving him standing on the porch. I ran to my room and pulled open my closet. A silk scarf my Gram had bought me went around my neck. My one sport coat went over it all. Leather shoes replaced my Converse.

A glance in the mirror and I decided it would have to do. Yes, Vin looked like the ultimate personification of Italian machismo, and I looked like a poster boy for the ACLU. What did it matter?

After all, this wasn’t a date.

Chapter Ten

Vince stared at the closed door to Trey’s brownstone, battling confusion and beating back panic while the tips of his ears heated. The latter gave him something else to focus on, and he touched them self-consciously, first the left and the right, worrying they would be so red that Trey would notice. He peered into the glass beside the door, seeking out his reflection to check the state of his ears for himself.

He saw, merged with his monochromatic reflection, a pale, haggard female face surrounded by thin and scraggly blonde-gray hair peering back at him. Frowning, Vince crouched down and squinted, wondering who in the hell it was. Before he could identify her, he heard Trey’s muffled voice call out “Mom!” and then “Gram?” from inside the house. The face at the window turned away before disappearing altogether. Scuffling sounds merged with urgent, hushed voices behind the door, wrapping around a sharp, slurred voice objecting in words Vince couldn’t quite make out. Silence fell.

The door opened and Trey all but leapt out of it, closing it so quickly behind him Vince wouldn’t have been surprised to hear the thud of some wild animal’s paws on the back of the door.

“Everything okay?” Vince asked.

“Yes.” The word shot out of Trey so hard it nearly left an imprint in Vince’s chest. Vince opened his mouth to press, because very clearly everything wasn’t okay, but at that same moment his brain registered the subtle changes in Trey’s outfit and reminded him how incredibly alluring the young man’s waistline was, even half-hidden by a jacket.

A sharp, slurred complaint from inside jolted Vince out of his lust-filled stupor. It also prompted Trey to grab Vince’s arm and pull him down the stairs with a tight-voiced, “Let’s get going.”

Vince let himself be dragged down to the sidewalk, and when Trey didn’t let go, he increased his pace to stalk alongside. His concern did battle with a sense of acute pleasure at Trey’s hand on his arm. The slim, sure grip anchored him and drew him like a tractor beam. Fleeting analysis of men versus women’s touch gave way to simple pleasure, leaving him bereft when Trey stopped at the corner to cross and allowed him to realize what he was doing.

“Sorry.” Trey drew back, flinching. The hand which had held Vince’s arm shot into Trey’s hair and tightened into a fist as Trey’s bright, handsome face closed off.

The roller coaster Vince had been riding all day didn’t exactly pull into the station, but it did come to a strange out-of-body sort of pause. Ever since he’d agreed to a not-date, in fact, he’d existed in at least a low-grade panic. But as he stood with Trey on the corner of his block, he realized that since the moment Trey had opened the door, there had been no panic, not until he’d closed the door and gone away again. Now the panic was gone entirely, and in its place he found a mild confusion over what exactly had happened back there at the door and a rapidly deepening happiness at simply being with Trey. Being out on a date with Trey, because no matter what they called it out loud, Vince was willing to admit to himself that it
was
a date.

What his date needed right now was to relax.

Glancing at his watch, Vince nodded at a half-lit sign up the street. “We have plenty of time before the show. What do you say we put in a round of darts and drinks first?” If anything, Trey’s face closed off even more. Vince scanned farther up the street, mentally mapping the surrounding neighborhood as well. “Or how about Orecchio’s?”

Trey’s entire body seemed to exhale as he turned to grin at Vince, eyes sparkling. “I haven’t been there since I was ten.”

“Well past time to go back.” Vince put a hand on Trey’s lower back and steered him east.

Orecchio’s was a fixture for any kid who had grown up in the neighborhood: a pizza parlor and game room serving as a mom-and-pop version of the nationwide chains. Orecchio’s hosted fewer games and better pizza and didn’t require driving to DePaul or Gage Park, making it a favorite of parents and indulgent uncles, Vince included.

Once inside, however, Vince worried at the wisdom of his choice. Tonight, as ever, shrieking children tore up the tile floor between the game room and the main floor of the restaurant where parents dolled out fives and twenties to buy themselves another half hour of fragile peace. Would only-child Trey see this as a circus, despite his initial nostalgia?

Glancing at Trey, Vince relaxed to see his date smiling, wistful remembrances of childhood past still in place. Inspired by the telltale
clunk-roll-clunk
rumbling beneath the chaotic chorus of electronic beeps and sirens, Vince fished a ten out of his pocket and waved it in front of Trey’s face. “How about I beat you at some skee-ball?”

Oh, but Vince loved it when Trey’s eyes lit up like that. “Sure, I can let you win, if it’ll make you feel better.”

Laughing, Vince indicated the change machine with the bill. “I’ll just get us some tokens, and then we’ll see who beats whom.”

The machines were the same exact ones from when Vince was a kid, including the temperamental one against the far wall that could be talked out of an extra ball with a few well-placed nudges. Despite securing that advantage, Vince had to work hard to keep up with Trey, and eventually he had to concede defeat as Trey steadily and soundly whipped his ass.

“I used to come here with my mom all the time,” Trey confessed. “She taught me how to aim for the 100s.”

Vince knew how to aim for them too, but his skill paled next to Trey’s. He shook his head, grinning. “I come here every other weekend with my nieces and nephews. Even with that much practice, you’re kicking my butt.”

“I noticed.” Trey dropped in a new token, keeping his eye on the target rings. “Should we order a pizza? As the loser, you buy, but I’ve got the next round of tokens.” When Vince glanced at his watch, Trey paused, second ball clutched in his fist. “Oh—sorry. Am I messing up your plans? We can just go.”

Vince placed a hand over his left pants pocket. “Well, I’d meant to take us to a steakhouse, but that’s no big deal. We can eat here instead. The thing is, I have these tickets for a play at eight. I’d say let’s ditch it, but they were kind of a favor, and…”

Vince could feel his ears heating again. He ducked his head to avoid having to meet Trey’s eyes, but Trey didn’t let him escape so easily. The boy stepped closer, stooping a bit to get into Vinnie’s line of sight, forcing Vinnie to look at him.

“You’re taking me to a play?”

“Up in Lakeside. It’s called
Icarus.
It’s supposed to be good. But if you really don’t want to go, I’ll just apologize tomorrow. No worries.”

Trey said nothing, but he reached out and touched Vinnie’s sleeve. Vince combed the blank face in front of him over and over, desperately searching for a clue as to whether or not he was in trouble.

“You dressed up. You were taking me to a steakhouse and now you tell me there’s a play which you called in a favor to get tickets to.” The corner of Trey’s mouth tipped up. “If this is what you do for a not-date, I can’t help but wonder what you do for the real deal.”

Vince shrugged, but he was smiling too. “The usual. Limo with champagne up Lake Shore Drive and candlelight picnic in front of Buckingham Fountain.”

“That must get cold in the winter.”

“Oh, winter.” Vince’s mind sped ahead of his tongue. “Winter is different, of course. Then it’s a romantic cabin in Wisconsin.”

Trey rolled his eyes, but he was still grinning. “And ice skating, I suppose.”

“Ice fishing,” Vince corrected. When Trey laughed, Vince feigned offense. “Hey, I wouldn’t want to be a cliché.”

Trey punched him playfully in the arm, but instead of pulling away his fingers lingered as he leaned closer. “Tell you what. Let’s get a pizza, hustle up to the play, and to close off our not-date you can take me dancing again.”

An electric thrill rushed through Vince’s bloodstream, settling into a low-grade hum at his groin. “Dancing?” he repeated, his mind recalling the sensations of holding Trey close.

“Dancing. At the jazz club.” Trey ran a finger down Vince’s forearm. “What do you say?”

Hell yes,
Vince’s dick shouted. His mouth said, “What do you want on your pizza? To get your strength up for dancing.”

Trey’s smile could have lit up half of Chicago. “Everything.”

Chapter Eleven

Vince didn’t understand the play exactly, but it didn’t matter, because he was almost positive that Trey had a great time. Vince had a good time too, but it was because he was there with Trey.

Kyle had given him the old eyebrow when Vince came in with a guy, and for a minute he’d panicked. For what he wasn’t sure, and as he’d realized that, he forced himself to relax. He greeted Kyle and introduced Trey. Kyle gave them some complimentary drink tickets and a wink, and that was that.

Nothing to panic about.

After the show they went to the bar Trey had taken them to that first night when Vince had gone out. They didn’t hold hands on the way, which would have been weird, but they did walk closely together on the sidewalk, which was nice.

“Why do I hardly ever see you at the restaurant anymore?” Trey asked. “Too much family?”

Vince shook his head. “No such thing. I just…” He paused, trying to think of how to phrase it. “Well, this sounds nuts, but sometimes being in the middle of all that family can be very lonely.”

Trey frowned. “I never thought about it. There’s just me and Gram and my mom. I can’t even imagine what it must be like to have cousins and stuff.”

“I have plenty of those. Let me know when you want to borrow them.”

They walked in silence for awhile. A group of young guys laughing and looking inebriated took up too much of the sidewalk, and even after Vince moved far to the left, practically hugging the side of a building, they were set to run Trey right over. Without thinking, Vince put his arm around Trey and shifted their positions, huddling around him and putting his back to the drunks. As they buffeted Vince’s back, he glanced down at Trey, who was gazing up at him, eyes sparkling.

Vince smiled.

Trey smiled back, the light in his eyes spreading to the rest of his face.

When the drunks were past, Vince went back to the center of the sidewalk, but he found his arm lingered against Trey’s back, and he left it there as long as he could until it seemed awkward. As he let it fall, though, Trey took hold of his biceps.