Acrobat (8 page)

“What?”

“That’s just parental courtesy.”

“Why?”

“Just something you do, check up, make sure, and with them even more so, because she’s a girl and he’s a boy,” I said with a smile.

“So this girl should have had her parents’ permission to be in my apartment?”

“Yes.”

He shook his head. “That’s ridiculous.”

I gave him a quick pat on the arm. “It’s precautionary.”

“It’s old-fashioned.”

“Parents should know where their kids are. It’s important.”

“Michael isn’t your son.”

“No, but Mr. Tulia didn’t know that when he got out of the car.”

He shrugged. “Thank you for taking care of Michael. Ever since he moved in with me…. I realized today that I count on you to watch out for him all the time, whether I’m here or not.”

“Of course.”

“It means a lot.”

I nodded. “Tell me, who told you Mr. Tulia hit me?”

“Michael called and told me. He said it was his fault.”

“It wasn’t.”

“It was. If he hadn’t had that girl over at our house, you—”

“He’s sixteen, Dreo. What were you like at sixteen?”

“I was careful,” he said quietly.

“Of not getting caught,” I teased.

“Perhaps.”

“Well, he’s a great kid, and you know that.” I chuckled.

“Yeah, I know that.” He sighed.

I realized how exhausted he looked. “Why don’t you just go home and go to bed. I’ll send him over once he’s done.”

“The wine is good,” he told me, sipping it, ignoring my comment. “But my mother cooks better than this.”

“Mothers always cook better than restaurants.” I smiled. “And Michael said yours was feeling better. I’m glad. He said she had a stent put in her heart?”

“Which sounds a lot scarier than it was,” he said, leaning back in his chair, looking at me. He had unbuttoned his dress shirt, and I could see the rose gold cross on the white T-shirt he was wearing underneath. It was somehow endearing, the sign of faith on the man.

“So she’s okay?”

“She’s fine.”

“I’m glad. Maybe now he can work on getting closer to her.”

“How do you mean?”

“He seems to think she wants to take him away from you, so that’s what’s holding him back from liking her.”

“It is?”

I nodded.

“Shit, I had no idea. I’ll talk to him.”

“She doesn’t want to take him away from you?”

“She never wanted to take him away; she wanted me to move home. It makes sense if you think about it.”

And it did. “Sounds like you’re right, like maybe you should talk to him.”

“Yeah.”

When I looked up from my wine glass, his eyes were locked on me. “What?”

“Thank you for giving a shit about him. Thank you for being there today—thanks for all of it.”

I nodded. “You’re welcome.”

“He reminds you of your son?”

“A little. He’s nicer than mine was at this age, but I suspect that’s because mine always had his parents and Michael’s learned hard lessons about loss already. He’s very lucky to have you.”

He scoffed. “I don’t know. I haven’t been doing a very good job of taking care of him here lately. He’d rather be here with you than home with me.”

“But you’re working to support him. He understands that and he loves you.”

“We hardly say two words to each other most days.”

I shrugged. “That’ll change. Mine was an angsty piece of crap too for a while.”

He leaned forward, and I noticed that his wine glass was empty.

“You want some more?”

“
Sì
.”

I got up and went to the kitchen, but when I turned to go back to him, I realized he was there, right behind me, so that when I pivoted with the bottle, my knuckles brushed over his shirtfront. My head tipped up so I could look at his face.

His hand came down on the counter, on one side of me, and I stepped back as he leaned in closer.

I took a breath. “The Tulias were scared shitless when they found out that Michael was related to you.”

He nodded, studying my face, his eyes finally coming to rest on my mouth. “And you thought what about that?”

“It made no sense to me; I mean, I have bunny slippers scarier than you.”

A beat of time passed and then another until, wonder of wonders, the man smiled.

In four years, at no time ever had I even seen a grin. His lips never lifted in the corner, they didn’t twitch, mirth didn’t hit his eyes… nothing. But I was suddenly and without warning looking at a smile that made my breath catch, my heart still, and my mouth go dry.

God, his whole face changed when he smiled. Everything softened, his eyes, his mouth, hard edges smoothed, and he was simply breathtaking. How had I missed that he was so pretty the whole time I’d known him?

He made a noise, maybe a half chuckle, a happy grunt, and then let his head drop forward as he let out a deep breath.

I had no idea what to do, but doing nothing when I was being offered a gift, a chink in the armor, was a mistake. He trusted me with it, with the smile, with the lowering of the wall, so I put down the bottle of wine and put my hands on his face and lifted.

The thick black hair was just as silky as Michael’s, just as thick, but whereas Michael’s was rail straight, Dreo’s had curl to it, so my fingers were tangled fast.

“I just want you to know that I’m not afraid, all right? And Michael and I both think you’re pretty great.”

“I do nothing… for either of you.”

“You make a home for him, and because of that, I get to have my kid fix,” I said, dropping my hands, tipping my head for him to move. “Now go home already before you pass out in my kitchen.”

He grunted his agreement and stepped back.

I took a breath, a ridiculous breath that I shouldn’t have had to take, because if Sean Cooper was too young for me, twenty-eight-year-old Dreo Fiore was jailbait. And he was potentially dangerous, plus he was the guardian of the kid I was kind of attached to. It was just a bad idea all the way around. Not to mention, of course, that the man was straight.

“Nate?”

He was Italian, and Italian men were just a whole touchy-feely group. He probably didn’t even know how close to me he was.

“
Tesoro
.”

I looked back at him. “Sorry?”

“That you answer to.” Second smile of the night, this one sort of bemused. “I’m going. Thank you… again.”

“Hey, remember he and I are going to the opera tomorrow. We’re taking Danielle with us.”

“Who?”

“The girl I’m not going to let him get pregnant.”

“You think you’re funny?” he said with a slight frown.

I smiled and nodded.

His grunt was filled with disgust that just made me smile bigger.

The scowl I got next was even better. He was really kind of nice to look at.

“So what time are you guys going?”

I liked the strong line of his jaw, how wide his shoulders were, and the inky black of his hair.

“Nate?”

“Sorry, the show starts at eight, so we’ll leave here at six, since we’re going to eat first.”

“You and Michael and Danielle.”

“Right.”

“So where did the third ticket come from?”

I shrugged. “I got it for you because I thought you might want to go, but then I figured an outing with me might be weird for you, so—”

“I know you’re gay, Nate.”

“Yeah, I know you know,” I said. “But still, being cool with it here at home and being cool with it out in the world are two completely different things.”

“I would agree.”

“But it worked out perfect because we got to take Danielle.”

He nodded. “So you have a date on Thursday?”

I laughed. “Yeah, you heard me tell Sal that.”

“With who?”

“With the doctor you met last night. I was supposed to go tonight, but—”

“But you had to be me instead.”

“I had to be there for Michael,” I corrected.

He nodded. “Okay. Thanks for dinner, and the wine and the company.”

“Anytime.”

He walked across the room back to Michael, who, between texting on his phone, watching the hockey game, and doing his homework, was completely engrossed. Bending forward, Dreo put a hand on his nephew’s shoulder, said something, and then kissed his cheek. Italian men—had to love them.

I enjoyed watching the man walk, the fluidity of it, seeing the muscles bunch and flex under his shirt, the material pulled across broad shoulders, muscular biceps, triceps, and the power evident in his frame, in his every movement. The pants that encased his heavy thighs, legs, his ass, hugged every rippling curve, and I found that breathing was hard just for a second. When he turned back to look at me, I forced a quick smile.

“
Alla prossima
.”

“Me too.” I chuckled, having no idea what he’d said.

He left then, closing the door gently after him, and I returned to the table where his plate still was.

Michael was there a second later, picking it up and taking it to the sink.

“That’s okay, I can do it.”

“The man’s a pig.” He shook his head, smiling. “He probably thinks because it’s your house that you’re supposed to do the dishes.”

“I do have to do them.”

“He should have, but he’s just used to me taking care of him.”

“That’s nice, huh?”

“For him, yeah,” he groused. “But for me it’s annoying as shit; I’m supposed to be the slob, not him.”

I chuckled as he went to wash the dishes.

He grunted.

“Thank you.”

“Can I have a glass of wine?” he asked, looking at me over his shoulder.

“You can have a Pepsi.”

He made a noise like I was just so irritating, and I smiled as I checked my e-mail.

“Hey.”

I turned to look at him.

“
Alla prossima
is like see you again, or see you later.”

“Oh. It sounds better in Italian.”

“Everything sounds better in Italian.”

I couldn’t very well argue.

Chapter 5

M
ICHAEL
saw him first, so there was no way to ignore it or pretend I hadn’t as well.

“What the hell?” he growled, freezing there in the middle of the sidewalk. “Isn’t that your doctor?”

Sean Cooper was obviously on a date, as evidenced by his presence in the restaurant. But it had nothing to do with me, and I knew that. The sixteen-year-old with me, as well as his date, didn’t get it. So there we were, the three of us—me, Michael, and Danielle—lurking at the entrance to an alley across the street from a very upscale restaurant close to the Miracle Mile.

“You guys just don’t get it.” I chuckled, arm around each of them, turning them to walk out to the curb to get a cab.

“No,” Danielle insisted, fighting me, her eyes huge. “I wanna see who this guy’s out on a date with the night before he’s supposed to be out on a date with you.”

“I’m gonna kick his ass,” Michael assured me.

“Yeah,” Danielle agreed. “Kick his ass.”

Their righteous indignation over me was adorable. I started laughing. “Guys, this is not high school.” I tried to stop chuckling. “In the real world, people don’t date just one person; they date many and finally decide to give it a go with one.”

Two sets of eyes looking at me like I was nuts.

“You don’t just go steady in the real world.”

“Who goes steady?” Danielle glanced at me. “Most of my friends hook up.”

“Please don’t tell me these things,” I told her.

“Oh come on,” she snapped. “This ain’t Mayberry, Professor.”

“How do you know about—”

“I used to watch Nick at Nite.”

Of course she had. “Let’s just go or you guys aren’t getting any des—”

“Shouldn’t he at least be waiting to see if it works with you or not before he dates the next guy?”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“I think it should,” she told me.

“This isn’t a Disney movie,” Michael told her.

She smacked him hard. “I know all about how gay men hook up. My Aunt Susan has
Queer As Folk
on DVD.”

I couldn’t help laughing. She was indignant, he was scowling, and they were both very cute. They actually complemented each other really well.

“Guys, we’re going out tomorrow, not today,” I told them again. “What he’s doing tonight has nothing to do with me. Now let’s go.”

“I just wanna see,” Michael said, and with that, in his suit and tie and cashmere overcoat, he dashed across the street.

“Awesome,” Danielle said, grabbing my hand, tugging me forward toward the curb. “C’mon, Professor, now we gotta go with him.”

“You guys need to go to bed.”

She turned and looked at me, her black-lined eyes huge.

“Not together, idiot.” I rolled my eyes at her. “You need to go home and go to bed. It’s a school night.”

“Professor, I am up until midnight every night and close to two or three on the weekends. I dunno where you got the idea that teenagers go to bed at ten, but I promise you it ain’t like it is on TV, ya know?”

I sighed deeply.

“Oh, he’s comin’ back,” she almost squealed.

I waited as the world’s worst spy came loping back to us.

“And?” she asked excitedly, really into it.