Tell Me It's Real (At First Sight 1)

“Certainly an interesting beginning,” Dad said.

Apparently, Vince had no problem with meeting parents because he wouldn’t shut the fuck up. “This is our first real date, even though I consider it our second, or maybe our third.”

“Your first date?” my mother exclaimed. “How wonderful! And you brought him—”

“Are you guys finally ready to order yet?” Santiago interrupted.

“My wife was talking,” Dad told him sternly. “It’s not polite to interrupt, young man.”

Santiago rolled his eyes. “All I want to do is my job.”

“We’re not ready,” Vince told him as Santiago glared at me sitting on his lap. “I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Whatever,” the waiter said, spinning on his heels and going back inside.

“Well, he was a rude little bitch, wasn’t he?” my mother said. I grinned at her.

“Language!” Dad snapped at her, but I could see his mouth quirking at the sides.

“He was trying to get in Vince’s pants,” I told them, only because I tell them pretty much everything. Well, some things.

My mother narrowed her eyes as she glared inside the restaurant. “Is that so? He looked like the type. Little floozy. I hope you saw right through that, Vince.” Her voice was hard, as if daring him to contradict her.

“I did,” Vince assured her. “I have a one-man heart.”

Oh Jesus Christ.

“That is so sweet,” my mother said, wiping her eyes.

“Why do you have a black eye?” my father asked me suspiciously, reaching over to turn my face so he could see it better. I’d totally forgotten about it.

“Dear,” my mother whispered loudly. “Isn’t it obvious? Vince is the Dominant and Paul is his submissive. Look how Vince is holding onto him like he owns him. It was probably just from a rough scene in Vince’s playroom. Vince may have made him pretend to be a pony, like on that one HBO show that we watched. You remember? Where that one man put that bit in the other man’s mouth and made him wear a saddle? We promised ourselves we’d always support Paul with whatever he chose to be. It just so happens he’s kinky. We’ll support him no matter what.”

My father nodded as if this made complete sense. “You a pony, son?” he asked me.

I tried to keep from screaming. “No, Dad. I’m not a pony.”

“I don’t like horses that much,” Vince said, obviously not understanding at all. “They scare me a bit. I don’t like the noises they make.”

“It was Wheels,” I explained. “He tripped me and I hit the wall.”

“With your face?” Mom asked sympathetically. “You do have hands, you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” I promised her.

“He does that a lot,” Mom told Vince. “He’s always been a bit klutzy. This one time, he was trying to walk down the stairs, chew gum, and talk on the phone at the same time. Ended up with a broken arm.” She shook her head. “He always runs into things or falls down. It would be endearing if it wasn’t so painful. And expensive.”

“I’m nowhere near that bad,” I muttered, glancing at my dad for help.

He took the hint. “Matty, I think we should leave these boys to their date,” Dad said. “I’m sure they don’t want us hanging around. Besides, we’ll be late for our own reservations.”

Mom leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You’re absolutely right, my love. You may wine and dine me, and then maybe we can get out the spurs.”

“Oh. My. God,” I groaned.

“Giddyup,” my dad said, grinning at her.

“Oh, Vince!” she said. “Before I forget. We are having a get-together tomorrow for Paul’s birthday at his nana’s house. You must be there. I won’t take no for an answer.”