Their Boy (The Game 2)

“If you’re good boys, I’ll teach you The Floss later,” I hollered.

The song ended with an explosion, and I turned around again and bowed for my audience, completely out of breath.

“Shit, I’m out of shape,” I panted.

“That was…” Lucas was speechless, not to mention teary-eyed from laughing. “Well, I’ll say it,” he said and pocketed his phone. “You’re the best goofball in the world.”

I grinned widely and bowed again.

“I wanna see much more of this side of you.” Colt shook his head and smiled. “Come here and give me a kiss.”

I could do that.* * *When I was in high school, a friend of mine had a dog. More specifically, a border collie. A furry black-and-white darling that was the happiest and most relaxed when the entire family was gathered in one room, be it the living room in the evening when they watched TV, or the dining room at breakfast or dinner.

My friend’s father explained that she, the dog, was a natural herder. That was why sometimes she’d give us a headbutt on the leg—which was her way of saying, “Hey, why don’t you join the others in the living room so I can watch you all?”

The week leading up to Abel’s arrival, I was that dog. I was the happiest and most relaxed when Colt, Lucas, and I were gathered in our new living room. It felt like our space. We’d built it together. The faded khaki-green walls were ours. Lucas and I had wrestled the new cover over the couch, making it our couch. Colt and Lucas had moved the new furniture into place—our furniture. I had sat on Colt’s shoulders to hang our new curtains. While Colt had assembled the bookshelf, I’d gone online to buy books upon books, searching for titles I thought they would like. I’d filled the shelves while they were at work, and Lucas had found his spot in the living room that very night. He’d gone through the shelf, found the first book he wanted to read, and made the new comfy chair his chair. In our living room.

A new, large canvas hung above the couch, a black-and-white picture of the Lincoln Memorial, but it was the smaller pictures that mattered. Lucas had helped me edit a bunch of photos he’d taken of us, and we’d ordered prints together that I’d put into frames. There were two in the entertainment center. One of Colt when he threw a smile over his shoulder as he made dinner one night. One of Lucas and me on the sunbed in the backyard.

My favorite picture sat on the small table next to Lucas’s chair. It was the three of us having ice cream.

The living room was home. We’d breathed life into the space together, and we had to spend our time there.

Lucas was watching the news one evening, and I sat restlessly on the couch waiting for Colt to be done in the kitchen. He should be here too. We could eat here, in my opinion.

“I’ll go see if Colt needs any help,” I said and left the couch.

“Hmm…? Okay, sweetheart.” Lucas looked away from the news and gave me a smile. “Could you bring me back a glass of wine? There’s a bottle in the door of the fridge.”

“Yes, Sir.” I ran out and skidded into the kitchen on my socks, and I found Colt at the stove. He’d taken something out of the oven and was drizzling melted butter over whatever it was. I snuck closer. Some kind of fish. Yum. It smelled amazing. “Hi, Daddy, can I help?”

“You can sit here and give me somethin’ pretty to look at.” He sent me a quick wink and finished pouring butter over the vegetables around the fish.

“Easy peasy.” I grinned and opened the cupboard where Rosa had placed our new wineglasses. “I’m just gonna bring a glass of wine to Daddy. Do you want one also?”

“Yeah, I’ll have a glass. Thanks.”

I poured two glasses and excused myself a second to give one to Lucas. Then I was back in the kitchen, and I hopped up on the counter next to the stove while Colt checked one of the pots. I’d requested mashed potatoes.

Colt took a sip of his wine and came to stand between my parted knees. “I love this new look. We should make it a rule for you to wear nothin’ but bottoms.”

I blushed and glanced down at my body. Having discovered they preferred to see me in briefs instead of boxers, I’d purchased a bunch of new underwear. Some cool ones with colorful patterns or graphics, some plain ones in different colors. Today’s pair was solid black, but they were so soft and fit so snugly. I loved them.

“I never walked around like this before,” I admitted.

Colt smiled softly and set down his wine. He knew it was he and Lucas who had made me comfortable enough.