The Queen & the Homo Jock King (At First Sight 2)

“He’s my cart horse,” Vince said. “There’s a difference.”

“Well, look who was at the door!” Nana crowed as she came back into the room.

Followed by Darren.

And by some random twink I’d never seen before, all tall, thin, with big eyes and probably only seventeen.

“Holy shit,” Paul wheezed. “You brought your one-night stand with you?”

“He was already here,” I hissed.

“I was talking to Darren! That’s the twink he left the bar with last night.”

“He insisted,” Darren said through gritted teeth. Then he saw Brian and his eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”

“Eating bacon.” Brian popped a strip of bacon in his mouth. “Also, had a round of power fucking with the Drag Queen.”

“Oh my god,” I moaned, though I did wonder what exactly power fucking consisted of.

“You did what?” Darren said, sounding dangerous. And if I were more sober, I’d probably be more offended by how annoyed he looked, like the very thought of one of his little jocks fucking me disgusted him.

But I was drunk, so it just made me bitchy. “Power fucked. There was power in the fucking.”

Darren turned his glare to me. “Are you drunk?”

“No,” I said. Because I was a liar. “I’m not as drunk as you think you are.”

“What?”

“Brunch!” I announced.

Darren glowered.

Nameless Twink looked bored.

Vince grinned at Paul.

Paul made heart eyes at Vince.

Wheels tried to lick his asshole.

Nana looked pleased as punch.

Matty and Larry were almost making out.

Brian winked at me.

“Oh my god,” Corey breathed. “I’m about to attend the most awkward brunch ever. Fuck yeah. Frittata, anyone?”

Chapter 5: Seriously the Most Awkward Brunch Ever

AND THAT’S how I found myself sitting down to brunch with my family, my one-night stand, my archnemesis, and his one-night stand.

Nana, as she was wont to do, sat at the head of the table, reminding us that our family was considered matriarchal and she should be treated as a dictator, if not a full-fledged deity. None of that was true, of course, but if we didn’t allow it, her retribution was swift and painful and usually involved the parrot Johnny Depp in some way, shape, or form.

To her right sat Matty, then Larry, Corey, and Brian. I sat opposite Nana, and to my right (somehow) was Darren, his twink (who told us all in the most bored voice humanly possible that his name was Octavius and he was a model), then Vince and Paul.

Why Darren had ended up next to me, I’ll never know, but it was taking all my restraint to keep from stabbing my fork into the fleshy part of his palm. Which led to me trying to stare surreptitiously at his very large hands and wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around my—