Page 65 of Pucked Up

I stopped, then slowly spun to face him. His expression was blank, and his skin was pale, which told me he knew he’d fucked up. “Why would Hugo matter to me?”

He bit his lip, then sighed. “Because you and I both know it’s not just about sex, okay? Youlikehim.”

“I—” The words would not leave my tongue. I was so done lying to myself and my friends. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t have time for Hugo. Whatever I feel, it’ll pass.”

Ford looked like he wanted to argue with me, but he also looked like his blood sugar was low, and that won out. He dropped it and finished putting his shoe on so we could head out to the restaurant. I had a feeling this wasn’t over, but for now, I would take the reprieve.

I was wrong and right. My dadhadbrought some asshole with him to dinner, but the man did not have a shriveled dick. I knew that a little too intimately. I fought the urge to swallow and then choke on my own tongue when my gaze fixed on Hugo, and he went white the second he saw me.

Beside him sat Micah, who was clearly unaware of who was approaching the table, and I could feel Ford’s tension as he brushed his elbow against mine.

“Did you know?” he hissed against my ear. The sound was obnoxious through my hearing aid, and I winced.

“No. Do you think I’d be standing right here if I did?”

Ford looked torn. Micah was one of our best friends, so the night might go easier with him there, but he was also leaning against Hugo familiarly—and hell, I wasn’t surprised. Micah could get any man to drop their pants with a single whispered word.

“Fuck my life,” I muttered, then shook my head and plowed forward.

My dad spotted me just after Hugo did, and he jumped up, walking over and putting his hands on my shoulders the way he always did. He towered over me, which was annoying as fuck. There were days I wished I were an amputee so I could make myself taller just to stop him from looking down on me the way he always did.

“Mon fils.”

“Papa.” My voice was not as warm as his. He leaned in and hugged me. He rarely ever kissed my cheeks, but I’d grown up watching him do it to everyone else he knew here, so I knew it was just a me thing. Luckily, I had my crutches, so I had an excuse not to hug him back.

“We’ll have to speak English tonight,” he was saying, too loud, also something he always did. He never bothered to understand my hearing loss. “For Micah, of course. And you know him, yes?”

Micah stiffened and sat up straight. “Hold the fuck up. Who’s here?”

Ford slid in the booth beside him. “Hey, babe.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Micah said, his voice carrying. “What are you doing here? Who’s here? Tucker?”

“Nah, he’s busy getting rail—ahhh uh.” I made a slashing noise with my hand. “Having a nice chaste, non-sex date with his husband,” Ford stammered.

I rolled my eyes as I sat beside my father and locked gazes with Hugo. He looked like a deer caught in headlights. “It’s just me,” I told Micah.

“Oh my God, I didn’t know you were coming to this.” He turned and smacked Hugo on the shoulder a little too familiarly. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me they would be here.”

Hugo cleared his throat. “I was…uninformed.” He spoke so quietly I couldn’t hear him, but I could read his lips perfectly.

“Seems we all were,” I shot back.

Hugo glanced at my father. “I didn’t realize your guest tonight was your son.”

“Ah, he always makes such a big deal out of things,” my father said, cuffing me on the shoulder. “You know how he gets.”

Hugo’s face darkened. “How he—I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you mean.”

My father cleared his throat and glanced at me. “Oh, let’s not be dramatic, eh. Who’s for drinks?”

The conversation stayed awkward, though Micah didn’t seem to understand that. He also couldn’t tell that I was seething, the feeling worse every time he leaned into Hugo for comfort. My dad made a couple of comments, but as always, Micah was oblivious, and Hugo was too fucking polite to say anything about it.

That left me sitting in my chair like a goddamn chump, realizing that whatever I thought could have been between me and Hugo was a lie. Or no, it wasn’t a lie. Hugo had been very clear with me that it was physical and nothing more.

He’d agreed to my terms the night we met and hadn’t tried to cross any lines. He was just, very clearly, the sort of man who was happy to add in shit like cuddling and caretaking into his hookups.

Well, that wasn’t for me.

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