Blind Date (A Why Choose Romance)

The first person to take to the stage was the one who’d be asking the questions. This turned out to be the mystery celebrity.

“I thought Hank had a boyfriend,” I whispered to no one in particular.

On one side of me, Ethan whispered, “Shh!”

And on the other, Lewis said, “He doesn’t.”

Gill acted as MC again after she was so good at it last time. She gave Hank a full introduction for anyone who wasn’t a football fan, and then she asked the questions that must have been front and center of everyone’s mind.

“Hank, why are you here? We all thought you had a boyfriend after those photographs. They were taken recently, and you looked like a lot more than just friends.”

Hank smiled, perfectly at ease with the question. He must have been sick of talking about those damned photos.

“Well, I am single now. We were a lot more than good friends, but it was all over a long time ago. The photos caught us getting together in the way old friends do, ya know?”

Gill winked at the audience. “Oh, yes, Hank. We’ve all known those moments. The one when you fall back into bed with an ex and often regret it the next day. Did you regret it the next day?”

“Not at all. He’s always been a good buddy, ya know. I only regretted it when I saw the pictures on my phone when they shouldn’t have been there.”

“Well, the final outcome is good, because here you are, and tonight we’re going to find you mister right. What kind of men are you into, Hank?”

I didn’t get to find out Hank’s definition of a dream guy, because one of the servers tapped me on the shoulder and told me Becky needed me to help out in the kitchen, so I slipped away from my guys and back to work.

The evening passed in the blink of an eye. We were rushed off our feet in the kitchen, and I was eager to get back to the guys who politely wouldn’t mention anything about me smelling like a fried onion ring. But we had something planned for later that I was dreading, and with the rapid passage of time, the dreaded moment raced toward me.

It had only been a few weeks since we’d agreed to have a go at a poly relationship, but all the time, the threat of exposure hung over us, especially after our run-in with the Creepy Chris Corker.

I was surprised we hadn’t been exposed already if someone had photographs. Tyler explained that Corker or his friends were probably holding out for more and better evidence, which suggested they didn’t have much to go on.

“If the photos show the twins entering and leaving your place, that means nothing if there’s no kissing or touching to show something more is going on.”

Anyway, ahead of a media sensation or not, we still wanted to let our nearest and dearest know about our unconventional dating arrangement. And we’d agreed to tell Tyler’s Mom and my dad first. That night. At the bar. The Duck being a relaxed place once most of the crowd had left, and sort of neutral ground.

I was in no hurry for that conversation, but we had to get it done.

All too soon, we’d fried the last order, cleaned up the kitchen, and hung up our aprons. Becky wished me luck, because I’d bored her half to death chewing her ear off about my fears. She assured me it’d all be fine. She knew my father. I was sure she was right, but still, I dreaded it.

The bar had emptied out considerably, and the four guys were all sitting with my dad and his future wife, AKA Ty’s mom. At least they all seemed to be getting along well, and the old folks had gotten the chance to know everyone a little before we dropped our big news. Ty’s mom already knew the guys, but my dad didn’t.

I went over and joined the group, nervously sitting in the vacant seat left between Ethan and Lewis.

My dad took one look at me and said, “Is there something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong unless you think there’s something wrong,” Tyler was quick to say. Too quick. Dad had asked me.

I felt myself blush.

Ty’s mother cocked her head. “What’s this about, Ty?”

“Uh,” I said, “So, um...”

“Is this you coming out of the closet, Kayla?” My father said, this time without taco in his mouth. “I’ve always kinda suspected it, and well, I’m supportive of you, whoever you love.”

“Oh really?” I blinked. “Well, thanks, Dad, it’s good to hear that you’re fully supportive of me and everything, but I’m not gay.”

That was a weird moment, Dad revealing he thought I might be gay; I don’t know what stereotypical image of a lesbian I lived up to, but I hadn’t had a boyfriend in way too long, so perhaps he took that as a clue.