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

g I can do for a living? How much do you think it would pay? I’d be sort of like a superhero. I don’t look good in spandex. Never mind. The dream is dying. Wait for it… wait for it. Okay. That dream is dead.”

“Gustavo Tiberius?” I asked. “That’s the name you come up with?”

He shrugged. “There has to be someone in the world with that name. He’s probably badass and does things like gunplay and is into BDSM or something.”

“That doesn’t matter,” I said, trying to redirect the conversation. “Focus. Paul. Are you with me?”

Paul nodded. “I think I am. Probably.”

“Okay, repeat after me. I have not been kidnapped.”

“I have not been kidnapped,” Paul said.

“No,” I said. “I meant—Jesus Christ. Paul. I haven’t been kidnapped.”

“Am I still repeating after you, or?”

“No! Paul!”

“Sandy!”

“What are you doing!”

“Why are we yelling at each other in the bathroom of a Mexican restaurant!”

“I don’t know!”

“Stop yelling!”

“You stop yelling!”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, something I learned early on that I needed to do with Paul instead of slapping him upside the head. It almost didn’t work this time. “Why would you think Darren kidnapped me?”

“Because,” Paul said. “One minute you claim to hate him and the next you’re like, totally in love with him. Or something. But it’s not a normal love. Santiago was hitting on him right in front of you and you didn’t even get jealous at all. You were laughing at him, like you thought his pain was funny.”

Because his pain was funny. Fucker couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. “Have you ever thought that maybe I’m just not a jealous person? Or maybe that I’m just secure enough in Darren’s feelings for me?” I almost couldn’t say the words with a straight face, but then I remembered Mike’s warning and the way his chest hair had felt in my fingers. That chest hair was a promise to save a gay bar and pave my way to queendom. I was Meryl Streeping the shit out of this. Paul was going to be so proud of me when this was all over. Or completely appalled. It was fifty-fifty either way.

Paul rolled his eyes. “You hide behind Helena and I’m fat. We really don’t do ‘secure enough.’”

“Never leave me,” I demanded.

“Never,” he promised. “Now, tell me.”

It hurt, a little (maybe even more than a little), to lie to him. “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop. You know? What’s the point of getting riled up over something that’s not going to last?” That was… as close to the truth as I could get. And as close as I wanted it to be. Anything more seemed like it would reveal things I didn’t even want to think about.

“Sandy,” Paul said, shaking his head. “Darren’s wanted you forever. Just because he slept with everything that had a pulse doesn’t really change that. Sure that looks bad and you should probably get him tested for chlamydia before having sex again, but he actually cares about you. More than I think he knows what to do with. Why do you think it took him this long to finally act on it? And don’t deny it, either. I know he’s the one that came to you. I’m just surprised you agreed so quickly.”

“How do you know?” I asked, wondering why my voice sounded hoarse.

“Do you really think anybody else would have told the ridiculous story with you about how you two got together?”

“You would have,” I said.

“Well, yeah,” he said. “That’s because I love you.”

“I know,” I said. “So why would—oh.” Well, shit. “He doesn’t love me. Are you out of your mind?”

“Okay, so maybe it’s not love. Not yet. Not everyone can be my parents.”