Strings Attached

“Already true,” I replied, but he ignored me.

“Do it. Do it. Do it.”

“Ugh, fine, but just this once.”

“You’re the weirdest person I’ve ever known. I didn’t realize it was possible to be so against accepting nice things.”

“I’m good, what can I say? At least, that’s what the hottie from last night said.”

“Good at being weird?”

“At excelling at whatever I do,” I answered, making us both laugh. I was lucky to have Ross. He really was a good friend.

We hung out until we had to get ready for the rehearsal. Ross went back to his apartment, and I showered and dressed.

We met up back at the school, nerves and excitement bubbling in my stomach and chest. That feeling grew with each passing minute, until I could barely hold it together. But the second I stepped on that stage, the second they announced Zander Wescott, everything other than pride faded away. I’d done it. I’d really fucking done it.

I was a college graduate, and no one could ever take that away from me.

* * *

I couldn’t stand still. Adrenaline pumped through my body, my heart going crazy. I wanted… Hell, I didn’t know what I wanted.

We’d been given our diplomas, and I threw my cap in the air. Everyone was hugging and celebrating, my eyes darting around as I tried to figure out what to do. How to keep my hands busy while family congratulated each other around me. Jesus, I wished Mom and Molly had been able to make it. I wanted to show my sister how incredible this was, that it was possible if she one day decided it was what she wanted too.

My phone buzzed, and I tugged it out, saw an incoming video call from Mom. As soon as I answered, she and Molly screamed, “Congrats!” while cheering, throwing confetti, wearing what I was pretty sure were birthday hats, and blowing on kazoos.

“Thank you!” I called out, but it was loud around me and I knew they probably couldn’t hear that well.

I could hardly make it out when Mom yelled, “Baby, I’m so, so, so proud of you!” She was a good mom, the best. She loved us fiercely, and there had never been a time in my life when I doubted that.

Molly said something, and I shouted, “What?”

A group of people came closer to me, their voices carrying over my family’s.

“How does it feel, Mr. Wescott?” I was pretty sure she asked.

“Great! It’s the best,” I replied, but someone bumped into me, and my phone fumbled out of my hand.

I bent to pick it up and was able to catch Mom’s, “Call us later when you’re back at your apartment. We just wanted to see your face.”

“Okay. Love you,” I told them, glad we’d at least had that today. When I pushed to my feet again, it was like something out of a movie. The crowd legit parted, Ross waving at me.

I waved back as he approached, my gaze drifting to the man beside him, and…nooooo. No, no, no, no, no.

H’s stare locked on me, and he stumbled, his brow creasing, as he put together the same picture that was becoming clear in my mind.

H was Ross’s dad.

My best friend’s dad had fucked me.

I’d told said friend about it, how it was the best sex of my life and…

“Zander?” Concern laced Ross’s voice, but it wasn’t his hand that reached out for me. It was bigger, stronger, and wrapped around my arm while my world went slightly blurry. Jesus Christ, I was going to faint. Yeah, I’d had sex with my best friend’s dad, but it wasn’t the end of the world… I didn’t think.

I didn’t pass out, though, and my vision cleared in time to hear Ross say, “You didn’t eat today, did you?” Then to his dad—the guy who’d had his dick in my ass—Ross explained, “He does that. He’s always so set on getting everything done that he actually forgets to take care of himself.”

He only said it because he cared, but still, a sting of annoyance burned me. I knew how to take care of myself, and I also didn’t need Ross’s dad knowing stuff like that about me. “I had breakfast,” I snapped, even though I hadn’t.

H—and holy fuck, how did I not even know Ross’s dad’s name—looked at me, all concern mixed with smoldering sexiness, and oh my God, that mouth. I remembered what it felt like, swallowing down my cock. Why was this happening?

“Are you okay?” H asked before adding, “Come on. We should get something in you.” His eyes went wide as if he realized how that sounded, as if he remembered that he had something in me last night.

“I’m not going to dinner with you,” shot from my mouth before I could force myself to close my lips. Damn it. That was a little uncalled for.