Page 74 of Meeting Mr. Adorkable
“Most of my boyfriends in the past have been older, and most of them have been crappy for one reason and another. But not all of them, and not because of their age.
“Miles was in a league of his own, older and crappier than all the others put together, and he was a huge mistake, but he wasn’t a mistake because he was older. He was a mistake because he was vicious and a control freak, who got a kick out of whittling away at me and making me doubt myself all the time, always telling me I was stupid.
“Sub par was the term he used, and he said it with a great big smile on his face, and if you’re told something for long enough, you end up believing it. I didn’t know then why he treated me like shit. I don’t know now, and I don’t think I ever will. But it’s what he did, because that was him, not because he was older than me. My mum can’t see beyond the age difference between us and so she’s lumping you into the same category. It’s not right, and it’s not fair.”
Lucian’s voice wobbled, and Arlo tugged him back into his arms, holding him tight as the strain loosened a hard flood of tears. Hugging him close, he gently rocked him, not telling him it was okay, not telling him it was alright, not telling him it would all come out fine. The words would mean nothing as he said them, just as they’d mean nothing as Lucian heard them. He let him cry until there were no more tears left.
“Sorry,” Lucian muttered, sniffing into his chest. “You must think I’m such a wuss, letting it get to me. I’m supposed to be a big boy now. I can even tie my own shoe laces.”
“Don’t exaggerate. You forget I’ve watched you get dressed.”
Lucian laughed as he hiccuped.
“Come on, let’s dry those tears.” Slowly, gently, Arlo brushed his fingertips along the tracks of tears wetting Lucian’s cheeks. He was doing a better job of spreading rather than drying them, but it didn’t matter because all that did was caring for Lucian, giving him the comfort he so sorely needed.
“Better?”
“Yeah, a bit. Thank you. Sorry,” he said again, “for making your shirt wet and snotty.” Lucian offered a watery smile.
“Hey, never say sorry to me for showing how you feel.”
Lucian nodded and mumbled an okay. Arlo hated seeing him upset. If his mom was afraid he was anything like Miles, he had to show her otherwise.
“What if they were to meet me? Remotely, I mean.”
“It’s the obvious answer, isn’t it? But not yet.”
Arlo jolted. “Why not?” It didn’t make sense. He could do it with or without Lucian present, allay all their fears, make them understand how much he thought of Lucian… how much he… liked him.
“I know them. Obviously. But they know me, too. My mum, and my sister, and my brother in particular, they’d think I was begging for their approval and I can’t let them think like that. It sounds crazy, but I have to make them believe I can make my own choices and that I don’t have to seek validation. If I arranged a video call, that’s what it’d look like.
“I want you to meet them, I truly and honestly do, but I won’t push you in front of them and beg them to like you. They need to see I can make my own choices without falling on my face. I know it doesn’t make sense, it doesn’t to me either, but I just know that for now it’s the right action to take. Or not take. If you see what I mean.”
Arlo ran his fingers through Lucian’s hair. “Whatever you want, baby.”
Lucian took his hand and pressed a kiss to his palm, and a muted, muttered ‘thank you’.
“Come back to the house with me tonight?” He’d work out all the knots and tension holding Lucian tight, leaving him relaxed and boneless and sated.
“I—I think I’d like to go back to the apartment. I’ve a lot to think about, plus I have to be up super early to get some wreaths and tributes ready. I really don’t want Bibi adding to the poor family’s distress.”
They both smiled. Bibi, the world’s worst florist. But Arlo couldn’t help the twist of disappointment in his heart.
“Hey, I really need to get an early night, you know.”
“You can get an early night in bed with me.”
In the growing gloom, Lucian’s smile turned wicked.
“Sure, I’d get an early night, but I wouldn’t get any sleep. Come on, walk me back. Make Mr. DuPont’s night as you kiss me under the streetlamp.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX
Arlo watched the door close, and waited for Lucian to give him a wave from his window before he headed off. He was restless and driving home to an empty house held no appeal. Just a few weeks before, he’d been used to it — had made himself get used to it — but now the thought of walking into the silence dragged his spirits down. With no conscious decision, he headed back into town. He’d get a beer some place, find a corner table for one, and think about Lucian’s revelation to his family and the implications for them both.
He walked in a daze, jumping and spinning around as a hand fell on his shoulder. Hank stood before him, with Francine a step or two behind.
“Hank. Francine.” Tension rippled through his muscles. He was in no mood to take any lectures, no matter how ‘well meaning’.
