Their Boy (The Game 2)

Vincent was in the living room, channel-surfing with his leather jacket on.

There was a twinge of discomfort in my chest as he spotted me. My upper body was bare, and I hadn’t gotten used to him and Rosa seeing me this way. Despite that they were the only ones who’d seen me, all of me, throughout my recovery.

“Hey,” I said. “Didn’t I give you the weekend off?” By “give,” I meant that I’d told him to take some time to go see his family.

“I’m heading up in a bit,” he defended. “I wanna meet your new friends first.”

“That’s certainly not necessary,” I replied, baffled. In the kitchen, I heard the telltale sound of Rosa taking something from the oven. “Come on, let’s eat. Then you’re going—and I mean that respectfully.” I didn’t want him to feel like he needed to be my bodyguard.

“I’d feel better if I met them,” he said with finality and rose from the couch. “I don’t want anyone takin’ advantage, and you trust too easily.”

Maybe I did. I didn’t know.

In the kitchen, I wished Rosa a good morning and asked what she was making.

She had some attitude in her today. “No one told me I couldn’t make sure you had some bagels in the house. Men—telling me I can’t prepare anything for your movie night? Bah!” She made a crude gesture that made me snicker.

She’d made more than bagels, however. There were three baskets by the stove full of baked goods. Cheese rolls, bagels, and I was pretty sure those were her garlic knots. I loved those.

“May I have a garlic knot, please?” I asked.

“No, mijo, you want nice breath for kissing later,” she responded. My cheeks flamed with heat, and I dropped my gaze. Vincent chuckled and poured himself coffee. “I’ll make you a bagel with cream cheese and prosciutto, yes? Extra tomato?”

“Yes, thank you,” I mumbled. “It’s not a date. I want to put that out there. Maybe we’ll be friends, that’s it.” I trailed over to the fridge to grab the OJ before taking my seat again. Vincent brought me a glass on his way back with the coffee. “Lucas and Colt are a couple.”

“Sí, you tell me,” she answered, nodding. Then she waved the knife with which she’d sliced a tomato at me. “You also tell me about this lifestyle—couples with three people or more? And you are a special boy. Kind—big heart.” She nodded again, this time firmly. “How can they not love you?”

Warmth spread in my chest, at her acceptance of me and her openness, and I smiled to myself. She’d come far since I’d explained what kind of meetup Vincent drove me to once a month. She had tested the word munch to herself and listened to my stuttered clarification, and after that, I wasn’t sure who’d blushed the hardest. These days, she could even make jokes about whips and rope.

“Before we start talkin’ about love, I’mma see if they’re even good for him,” Vincent told Rosa. “We don’t know shit about them. They could be players or out to use him.”

That dropped a rock into my stomach. I hadn’t gotten that impression at all from Colt and Lucas. The opposite, in fact, they seemed genuine and nice. Well…Colt was a piece of work, but he didn’t strike me as anything but honest.

Rosa and Vincent began bickering; it was “you have to take chances” versus “welcome to reality, people are scum.”

I tuned them out with my bagel in a firm grasp.

If they asked for my opinion, I’d say they were both far off. Of course, I had to take chances, but even when Rosa got heated and switched to Spanish, I could decipher some words, and I wished she wouldn’t mention love. Meanwhile, Vincent had a harsher outlook on life, and he said people always looked out for themselves. Probably true to a degree, depending on how you twisted and turned everything.

I was looking out for myself when I wanted friends. I didn’t want this loneliness to suffocate me anymore.

Halfway through my bagel, Rosa and Vincent realized they didn’t understand each other. Rosa huffed something in Spanish, and Vincent was mostly yelling New Jersey slang and gesturing wildly with his arms.

They were always entertaining to watch.

“Kit has to try,” Rosa said firmly. “He has much to offer life, and life has much to offer him. That takes risks and bravery. He has it! You will not hold him back.”

“I ain’t holding him back,” Vincent growled. “I’m protecting him.”

“Guys,” I interrupted. “I love you both, but you’re arguing in circles now. I will do my best to find a balance—” The sound of the doorbell interrupted me, and I froze in horror. It couldn’t be them, could it? My gaze flicked to the clock on the microwave. They were way too early! Half an hour early! “I’m n-not ready!” I stammered.