Page 90 of The Last Guy On Earth
He must be glued to his phone because he answers immediately.
Yeah, why are you asking? He’s pretty private about it.
No reason. Just spotted them at Little Zen Garden.
Ooh. Get the spicy salmon roll. It’s my favorite.
Good tip.
I stash the phone in my pocket and glance toward DiCosta again. It’s amazing to me that Clay heads up the most queer-friendly team in the league, but he’s still not out himself.
It makes me wonder—what if I hadn’t run from him all those years ago? Would that be us sitting there?
My attention to that table must tip off Toby, because he suddenly says, “Hey, there’s Carter!” And before I can stop him, he zips over to stand at the end of their booth. Uninvited, he starts chatting up Carter. If I had to guess, he’s telling him how he reprogrammed the LED lights in his room to pulse to the music he plays on his Bluetooth speaker.
DiCosta glances up and catches me watching them. I lift a hand in greeting, and he gives me a nod before picking up his chopsticks.
“Gentlemen?” The host approaches. “Your table is ready.” He gestures toward a spot on the opposite side of the room.
I cup my hands by my mouth. “Toby,” I say just once.
His head swings in my direction, and I beckon to him.
A minute later, we’re all seated at a table by the window, and my father is still studying the menu.
“I was just telling Carter about the lights,” Toby says. “I wasn’t bothering him.”
“I’m sure you weren’t,” I agree, trying to keep the peace. “But they’re having a nice conversation, and I wouldn’t want us to interrupt.”
“Might be a date,” Toby says.
“A date?” my father scoffs. “There’s no way DiCosta has a boyfriend.”
“You never know,” I say mildly.
He closes his menu and laughs. “Oh, please. Your whole team can’t be fags.”
My heart lurches. “Dad, don’t ever use that word.”
“Why?” He shrugs. “Nobody can hear me.”
“I can.” I look directly into his florid face. “It’s offensive.”
His eyes bulge. “To you? Come on.”
My heart pounds against my ribcage because I know what I have to do. “Dad, it’s not okay to make assumptions about anyone’s sexuality. For the record, I’m bisexual. I’m attracted to men as well as women,” I add, in case Toby doesn’t know that word.
Saying it aloud is awfully weird. I’m not sure I ever have. And now my father is staring at me with wide eyes.
Suddenly, he bursts out laughing, dropping the menu on the table and tipping his head back in glee. “Nice one, Jethro. Very funny.”
“Uh, I don’t think he’s kidding,” Toby says, studying my face, which is probably as red as a tomato.
My father’s laughter dies. “No, he is. Tell Toby you’re joking.”
I hadn’t planned to discuss this tonight, but I slowly shake my head.
He gapes at me. “You can’t be serious. I’d know. And you never had a…” He grimaces. “Boyfriend.Jesus.”
