Page 90 of Pucked Up

His cheeks pinked, making his freckles stand out. “I—well.” He cleared his throat. “Please don’t make me hard before I empty my bladder.”

I made a zip motion over my lips, then waved him off. At his request, I didn’t watch, though I really wanted to make sure he knew that it wouldn’t bother me. I was long past the need to have a man look sexy for me all the time.

I didn’t require some bullshit idea of perfection. I just wanted him. I didn’t care how he came to me orhow he existed. I fell in love with every single thing about him—even the antagonistic parts that lived to get under my skin.

And I would make sure not to just tell him, but to show him every single chance I got.

BZZT BZZT!

My phone started jumping around on the nightstand, and I snagged it, blinking at the name. It was my dad. We only talked every now and again. Normally, he sent emails—like the fossil he was—with jokes or random articles about how beets are great for the liver but terrible for the kidneys. His retirement sounded boring as hell.

Which was the dream.

“Papa. Ça va?”

“Ouais,” he said with a chuckle. He sounded older, a rasp in his voice that hadn’t been there a year ago. “Where are you at right now?”

In Montreal, naked in bed after fucking my lover silly. But there were things you just didn’t tell your parents. “There was that benefit?—”

“Ah. For Reid.” My parents had always loved Reid. They hadn’t come to the funeral because flying for them was always a chore, and my mother needed a full-time caregiver now that her aging body was failing her, and she’d given up walking about ten years back—just shortly before Reid passed.

I knew it gutted them.

“There’s something you should know though, Papa.” I stopped when Boden appeared in thebathroom doorway wearing boxers, his hearing aids in, and a pair of bleached-white athletic socks went halfway up his calves. For a moment, I felt safe. I would speak French, and I could say whatever I wanted. Except no. Because that was his mother tongue too.

“Hugo?”

I cleared my throat and turned my attention back to my dad. “I’ve met someone. I’ve fallen in love.”

“Ah, ouais? How long?”

I looked back at Boden, who’d gone a little pale. He nodded at me like he was giving me permission to give the details. “Less than two months.”

“Ah.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s too soon.”

My dad laughed. “Did I say that with Reid, hmm? When you brought him home two weeks after meeting him to tell us he was the man you were going to marry?”

“Uh, yes?”

He laughed harder. “But you were right, and I was wrong, yes?”

“True.” Something settled in my chest. “I know it’s hard to understand?—”

“Hugo, your love doesn’t have to follow a timeline. You don’t have to force yourself to cut off those feelings in your chest because someone with an invisible checklist told you that’s how it was meant to be.”

God, I loved my dad. I loved both my parents. “Right.”

“Your mama is here. Say hello to her.” There was a shuffle and some swearing and a clatter as the phone hit the floor. As a little person, my dad’s hands were small, and he struggled to keep a grip on his phone. It was a running joke between my parents. I heard my mom’s familiar laughter and my dad swearing more as he most likely used his grabber stick to pick it up off the floor.

“My love,” my mom said as her voice came on the line. She sounded the same. There were parts of her that were timeless. I was lucky to still have her here. Doctors reminded her of that every chance they got, and if she could have gotten away with it, she would have spat in their faces. “Who is he? Tell me everything.”

“Maybe another time.”

She scoffed. “Is he there with you? Are you both naked? Did we interrupt your sex?”

“Oh my God, Mama!”

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