Chapter 5

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Brian

Someone bangs on my door and I roll over and wake up a bit. I realize that I'm not alone in my bed. I must be slacking off; usually I kick them out before morning. "Who the hell are you?" I ask.

"I'm the guy you fucked last night," comes a voice over my shoulder.

"Oh, yeah," I reply. "Were you any good?" I don't get a response for that one. The knocking starts again. "Okay! I'm coming, and you're going," I say to the guy who still has his ass parked in my bed.

I pull on a pair of pants as I head to the door. Sliding it open, I find Lindsay, holding Gus. "Hi," she says brightly. "We just happened to be in the neighborhood, so I…" she trails off when she sees the trick in my bedroom. Actually, she sees the trick’s ass as he's pulling on his jeans. "Are we interrupting something?"

"Not at all," I reply. "We're all done."

What's-his-name comes down the steps of my room and approaches Lindsay. "Is this your kid?" he asks.

"Uh, yes," she replies.

"Ohh, he is precious!" He stoops over to get a closer look and then starts talking fucking baby talk. "Hello, hello. Oh, baby, hello, baby."

He looks up at me and I'm just staring at him. What the fuck is it about babies that can make the hottest stud into a dickless fag in mere seconds? I sure fucking don't get it.

He stands up straight. "We'll do this again."

Not in this fucking lifetime. "Yeah, sure," is all I say as the guy leaves and I take Gus into my arms.

"Let me guess," cracks Lindsay. "Your Italian tutor?"

She dangles one of Gus' toys at me and I grab it from her. "Grazie."

"You know, if you'd visit once in a while, we wouldn't have to drop by unannounced."

"Talk to your girlfriend."

"You can't exactly blame her, the way you behave." She pulls some water out of my fridge.

"She's just jealous because she thinks you love me more than you love her. And she's right." I can tell by her expression that I definitely hit a nerve.

"Look, we have a child now," she says anxiously.

"Yeah. You and me," I reply as I study Gus.

"And Melanie! So, one way or another, we all have to get along."

I roll my eyes. "I'll try. If she douches."

Lindsay lets out a sarcastic chuckle. "I thought we could try something small. A nice civilized, home cooked meal."

"With a dash of rat poison?" I ask.

"I was thinking garlic," she replies, taking Gus back. "There's a chicken thing I want to try. It has forty cloves. Could you stomach that?"

"The chicken? Or Melanie?"

She doesn't respond as she heads out the door. "Friday? Early? So you can still hit the bars?"

I just stare at her, but she smiles at me and she knows she's got me. Shit. I hate it when she does that. That's why I have a fucking kid now.

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Justin

Christ! I cannot believe I'm sitting here with my mother. She ambushed me after school today and dragged me to a counselor. Good God. And not just any counselor. She is obviously such a fucking dyke that she is like, more butch than Brian. Good choice, mom, I'm sure she'll be very helpful for my cock loving issue.

I just sit there, playing with candy wrappers, while my mom yaks away.

"We used to share things," she says. "We enjoyed each other, but now I, uh, I talk to him and he slams the door or runs away. And he lies. He says he's spending the night at Daphne's, but I know he's not. And I found things."

"What sort of things?" asks dyke counselor.

"Um, drawings, sketches that he did." I put my hand up to my face and rub. I really wish I were anywhere but here right now. I try to think of some way to escape, but nothing comes to mind at the moment. "Of men," Mom continues, "naked men." She turns to look at me. "I just have to know." She stops and turns away.

"If Justin might be gay," the counselor so helpfully chimes in.

Mom lets out a breath and doesn't respond right away. I look away from her. She is so not ready for this. Fuck. Why did she bring me here if she doesn't really want to know the truth? "He's only seventeen," she starts up again, "he's too young to be having those feelings. To be…" she cuts herself off and turns to face me again. "Justin, how can you possibly know now who you are?"

"Justin," says the counselor and I turn my head to look at her. "Do you have anything to say?"

Well, you know what, mom? You want to know so badly, then here you go. "I like dick," I state. "I want to get fucked by dick. I want to suck dick. I like sucking dick," I smile a bit, "and I'm good at it, too." I look to the counselor and then over to my speechless mother.

"Well," says the counselor finally, "that's a start."

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Brian

"Your existing campaign is solid, Mr. Telson, but you need more muscle to break out of the boring family box. Target males, of course, eighteen to thirty-four, feature speed, fashion, visibility." I glance over to Marty Ryder, my boss, who is sitting in on the presentation. "You sponsor a NASCAR team, but you need a campaign to max the investment. TV, print, selected websites."

Marty reads something in the client's body language and interrupts. "Just so you know…” He stands up. "Uh, Mr. Telson, Brian is our most dynamic and creative account exec. His campaigns have won Clio awards for us."

"Uh, huh," Mr. Telson responds, obviously not impressed. "That's impressive. For you. How does that translate into national sales for me?"

"Well, uh, maybe you'd like to sit down and flesh out the strategy with him." Marty smiles and makes his way over to me. "He's also one hell of a host. He can get you into all the top restaurants; he can get you all the tickets to the games. Tell me, do you like baseball, Mr. Telson?"

The client puts away his things and stands. "I'm pretty tired after the flight this morning, and I've got a full set of meetings tomorrow."

Damn! "Well, how about tomorrow night?" I ask. The Pirates are playing. We have company seats on the first base line."

"Well, if I have any time I'll give you a call," he replies as Marty opens the door for him and he leaves, his minions following behind.

"I know what the son of a bitch is up to," I say to Marty and the other members of the team that are attending this meeting, who I'm sure are all more than happy to see me fail. "He's playing us against every other agency in town, pumping us for our best ideas, then he'll take them where he wants to."

Marty gathers his things and heads out the door as well. "You just make sure where he wants to go is here," he says shortly and walks out.

Great. Now I get to spend my personal time trying to woo some fucking old breeder. I love my job.

==========================

"And if I don't get this account, I'll be fucked. And without lube." I tell the gang. We're packed in our usual booth at the diner, getting ready for another night out.

"And that's a bad thing?" asks Emmett, who is seated next to me.

"It's amazing how you always work anal intercourse into the conversation," comments Deb as she stands at our table holding a tray.

"Yeah, you try spending and evening with some breeder from Altoona, smoking cigars and talking about pussy," I retort in disgust.

"I'd love to hear what you have to say about pussy," Ted says to me.

"That it's a good thing you've got one, because you wouldn't know what to do with a dick."

Ted gives no reply as we all watch Emmett try to scrub something out of his shirt. Deb comes back. "Move over," she says to Michael as she pushes into the booth that already holds he and Ted. "So are you boys in the mood for something sweet or are you going to pick up a little something at Woody's?" She laughs and reaches over to grab Mikey's cheeks.

"Ma, stop pinching my cheeks."

"Well, bend over so I can pinch the other ones." We all laugh and Deb gets up to take care of her other customers.

"Well, I've got some tax reports to go over," Ted taps Mikey and motions for him to get up.

"I would think, after checking out numbers all day, you would like to check out some numbers at night," comments Emmett, while still scrubbing at his shirt.

"Well," replies Ted, "In light of my near death experience, I've decided to take account of my near life. Woody's and Babylon are no longer deductible expenses."

"He'll be back," states Emmett, watching Ted walk out. "Well, looks like it's just us. The Three Musketeers."

"More like the Pointer Sisters," chuckles Deb as she lays our check on the table and walks away.

"I can't go either," says Mikey.

"What's your excuse?" I ask.

"I have to go back to the store. We're restocking."

"Poor baby," says Emmett. "Spending all that time alone in that boring crap emporium."

I pull some money out to toss on the table. Funny how I always end up paying. "Tracey will be there," Mikey says to Emmett.

"Your bride to be?" I ask.

"She's not my bride to be," snaps Mikey.

"Then you can tell her who you really are," I state, pissed that he's still going on with this pointless charade.

"I agree," adds Emmett. "I always say, come clean, or don't come at all."

"I can't," says Mikey, "where I work, they laugh at faggots."

"The only faggots worth laughing at are the ones who don't tell the truth," I say. "Don't be one of those assholes that hides, Mikey. And stop leading her on!"

"Who's leading her on?" he asks indignantly. "We're counting cartons of toilet paper!"

"Yeah, which you can use, cause you're so full of shit," I reply.

Mikey just looks at me and then leaves the diner. I look over to Emmett and whack him gently on the back of the head.

"Don't touch me," he says seriously.

I just smile.

==================================================================

Justin

I wander around Woody's with my shirt off. It's liberating, really, to be here, around all these queer men. It's the only place I feel like I can truly be myself. I haven't done anything with anyone else but Brian. Except for Chris Hobbs, but that was just a hand job, so like, it doesn't really count. I think Brian has ruined me for other men, plus, I'm a little afraid to go home with strangers. I know that Brian was a stranger, but for some reason he never felt like it to me. He's like, so perfect. I love him so much. Speaking of Brian; I watch as he makes his way to the bar, sits down and orders a drink.

"If you take your shirt off, you get a free drink," I say as I approach him.

"I don't show my tits for a watered down Bud," he replies.

"Get me a beer?" I try.

"Get your own," he snaps.

I try my flirtiest smile. "I'm too young."

"Well, that's your problem." Fucker. "You should go home," he continues. "Your mom's probably worried sick.

He would bring up my mom today of all days. "She's pathetic," I snort. "She took me to a waste of time therapist."

"Maybe she's trying to understand you," he says to me, like I'm five years old.

"I don't want her to understand me," I retort. "I want her to leave me alone. What did your parents do when they found out you were, you know, gay." I'm totally curious, because maybe I can get a clue as to what I'm in for. At least my mom hasn't tossed me out of the house, but she's sure no Debbie either.

Brian looks away and doesn't speak for a moment. "They didn't do anything," he says and I can see him checking out two hot guys across the room. Fucker. Look at me. "Because I never told them."

Jesus, he's like thirty years old, okay, twenty-nine, and his parents still don't know. I can't imaging keeping such a secret from my mom and dad, even if I know they'll kill me; especially dad. "You didn't?" is all I say.

He chuckles wryly and stands up. "It's not their life," he eyes the hot guy in the mirror behind us. "I don't need their approval," he says as he walks away from me.

I don't have much time to ponder that statement, or how I'm going to get Brian to take me home tonight because all of a sudden Daphne is walking into the bar. "Daph?"

She looks frantic. "Please don't kill me! It's not my fault!"

"What's not your fault?" I ask.

"My mom answered. She said you weren't there. I didn't know what to do?"

The hell? "I don't know what you're talking about," I say, and then I look to the door and know exactly what she's talking about because there is my mother. My mother is in a gay bar looking for me. I'm standing in a gay bar with no shirt on. "Fuck me!" I say out loud. "What's she doing here?"

"That's what I tried to tell you," Daphne explains, "I said you were here."

I'm backing away, trying to figure out what to do and then she sees me. Our eyes meet and I am so fucking scared. I can't think. What do I do now? All I can think of is 'run'; so that's what I do. There was a time when I was so close to my mother and now all I can do is run away from her.

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Brian

I slide open the door to the loft and my trick follows me in. He pins me against the door. "Oh, man, I am so horny. I want you to fuck me for hours." He slides his hands up my shirt. "And I'm a top."

"Yeah, that's what all the biggest bottoms say."

He's about to go for my neck when someone else pops up in the doorway. "Oh, fuck!" I exclaim in frustration when I see Justin.

"Who's this?" asks my trick.

"It's the president of my fan club," I reply turning to Justin, "What are you doing here?"

He's all out of breath. "My mom's out of control. Now she's following me."

"That must be an inherited trait," I reply.

"I'm not going home," he answers.

"Well you're not staying here."

"There's nowhere else for me to go. Do you want me to sleep on the street?" he asks indignantly. The little fucker. "I could get killed." I should be so fucking lucky.

My trick suddenly turns on him. "Why don't you get lost, you little asshole? I was here first."

Okay, not your decision, fuckwad, and no one talks to my stalker like that but me. "Better yet," I get in between them, "Why don't you?" I push him out the door. "Beat it."

"Fuck you!" He points at me.

"Yeah." I laugh. "You're the bottom. Remember?" I slam my door.

Justin is leaning back against the wall. "Thanks." He smiles at me.

I move back into the loft and away from him. "Look, I told you. I'm not your lover, I'm not your partner, I'm not even your friend. You're not anything to me."

He starts walking towards me. "I could be." He smiles again. "If you gave me a chance."

Oh, Christ! "Where did you learn to talk like that?" I ask him. "Watching some teen drama?" This kid has a lot to learn.

I start to strip off my shirt, "I need you!" he blurts out.

"You think you do, because that's what you're taught to think." I head back down the bedroom steps to confront him. "We all need each other. Well, it's a crock of shit. You're the only one you need. The only one you've got." I place my hand on his cheek and he smiles because he thinks I'm going to kiss him. Granted, it's tempting. Obviously he fucked up my chance at getting laid tonight and I could certainly take it out of his ass, but that wouldn't teach him the lesson he needs to learn. I'm not the fucking answer to his little teenage angst problem with his mommy. The sooner he gets that through his blond little skull, the better. I move away and hand him a blanket. "The couch. Just for tonight. And don't jerk off on it." I walk away.

==================================

I admit I have a shitty attitude when I get to work the next day. Having blond boy in the loft all night with his perfect ass taunting me from the couch really sucked. Especially since I had not gotten off that evening, unless you count jacking off in the shower, which I don't. I deposited him safely at his friend Daphne's this morning and came straight to the office.

My mood is not improved by Cynthia catching me on the spiral staircase. "Ryder wants to see you," she calls up to me.

"He can go fuck himself," I say as I make my way down to her. "He's pissed at me for not landing Telson. He wants to chew me a second asshole."

Cynthia giggles. "I always thought you could use another one of those."

I smile and am about to answer when Mr. Telson himself walks up behind her. "Marvin," I say.

"Well, I'll just be sure to give Ryder your message." Cynthia smiles as she walks away.

"Hope you don't mind me dropping by," says Marvin.

"Not at all," I reply. "Although after yesterday, I sort of got the impression that…"

"Well, you know how misleading first impressions can be," he interrupts me. "You know, after you get to know somebody, you discover how much in common you actually have."

Okay. "Well, should we look at some ideas we have?"

"Great," he replies. "Oh, and about this evening. I thought I might take you up on your offer to show me the town."

Oooh fun. I can hardly fucking wait. "Well, I can have Cynthia make us some reservations. Do you like steak? And I could get us tickets for tonight's game."

"Well, I sort of had a different evening in mind," he pauses. "The sort of evening you might plan for yourself."

Right. Babylon? The baths? I can just fucking see it now. Ryder will really give me that new asshole when our client drops dead from a fucking heart attack. "And what sort of evening is that?" I ask politely.

"Well, you know, one that's more…fun. Like this club that I heard about. Babylon?"

Well, fuck me silly. Mr. Telson likes cock. Perhaps all is not lost. "Why, Marvin, you old dog," I say slyly. I put my arm around him and lead him downstairs. "Christ, isn't anyone straight anymore?"

He just looks at me and laughs.

=============================

Later that evening I pick him up at his hotel and we make our way to Babylon. We stand on the catwalk and take in one of the many contests the club usually has going on. It's Biggest Cock Night or some fucking thing like that. I can't keep track.

Marvin is showing me pictures of his kids, if you can believe that. "This is Thomas," he says. "He's going to Harvard. This is Trish. She's twelve, she loves soccer."

"This has got to be a first." I laugh. "Family photos at Babylon."

We laugh at the emcee as she mocks a contestant. "I married young, before I knew," Marvin comments. "Went into the family business. By the time I realized what I was, it was too late to change things. I love my wife, and my kids. Why should I destroy all that?"

Gee, I don't know. So you don't have to live a fucking lie? "So, you take care of business while you're away on business?" is all I say.

"Exactly," he agrees happily.

"Smart man, Marvin," I comment, gnashing my teeth really hard so I don't let loose the tirade that I so want to, about the many reasons he is so fucked up. He is a client, after all.

"You're a smart man, too," he replies. "The question is; how smart?"

The emcee announces the contest winner and everybody cheers, then go back to dancing. I stare at Marvin for a moment, not quite sure what he's getting at. "So, is there anyone here you would like to meet? I happen to know the winner."

"No, not my type. However, there is somebody I'm interested in."

"Yeah? Who?"

He just smiles at me, and, oh, shit! I return his smile innocently and take a swig of my drink. Well, fuckin' a.

============================

"That's sexual harassment," says Mikey as we drive to work the next morning.

"Yeah, remind me to press charges,' I say.

"What does he look like?"

"Like the kind of guy that if he wagged his dick in front of you, you wouldn't look twice, but if he dangled his account in front of you, you might consider it."

"You're kidding. You wouldn't actually…" I shoot him a look. "Would you?" he asks in amazement.

"Well, considering some of the other things I've done."

"Yeah, but that was for fun. You've never done anything like this."

I laugh. "You're so beautifully naïve, Mikey. It's business. You fuck or you get fucked."

"Yeah, only which end are you on?" he asks.

Good question, Mikey.

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Justin

I'm standing in front of school talking to some friends when she pulls up beside us. "Justin," she calls. Fuck! Why can't she just leave me alone? I start walking. "Honey, please?" She drives along beside me as I continue to walk. "I thought you might like to come with me," she tries again.

I stop. "Where? To see another shrink?" I bite out.

"It's a surprise," she says.

"I'm not interested," I tell her as I start to walk away again, hoping she'll just take the hint.

"Stop right there!" she yells. Fuck, now she's out of the car, chasing me. So much for taking a hint. "Stop running from me, because I'm not running from you!" Okay, people are staring now. I stop and slowly turn to look at her. "I'm still your mother and you're still my son and I still love you."

Well, that does stop me. It's what I need to hear. What I've been waiting to hear from her since the moment I knew that she knew. I slowly walk back to the car and we both get in. "What's the surprise?" I ask her with a slight smile.

================================

Mom and I wander through the rooms of the museum. "Justin," she says. "I have so missed coming here with you. The Van Goghs and the Hoppers. You know, if it weren't for me, you wouldn't be an artist." She pauses and laughs. "I mean, I encouraged you." I smile back at her, feeling the most relaxed I've felt in weeks. "Hey," she says, "when we're done, how about sharing a piece of that incredible chocolate cake? Like we used to?"

I shrug. "Yeah, sure."

"Oh, Justin." She moves to a painting, but I'm not really paying attention. A really cute guy just walked in. "My favorite. Remember?"

"No," I answer absentmindedly, still staring at cute guy. He just looked back and he's checking me out.

"I fell in love with this when I was pregnant with you," I can vaguely hear her in the back of my mind. "I even put it on your birth announcements."

Cute guy looks at me and jerks his head toward the restrooms. "Mom, I've gotta use the bathroom."

She's still staring at the painting. "Okay, honey. I'll be right here."

As soon as we hit the bathroom, his lips are on mine. Fuck, he is so hot. We make our way into a stall, our lips never parting. He takes off his shirt and opens my pants, and then I return the favor with his pants, running my hands over his sexy ass. I reach up and slam the door to the stall shut. I'm not thinking of my mother sitting out on that bench waiting for me, but I do think of Brian, and how he would be so proud of me right now.

==================================================================

Brian

I slide open my door and it's all I can do not to completely lose it. Mikey is standing there in the most hideous outfit I have ever seen. He walks into the loft and I let a small laugh escape. He turns on me. "Oh, shut up!"

"Who did this thing to you?" I ask as I approach the fashion nightmare. I take in the red pants and the shiny blue leopard print shirt. "Ahh, let me guess. Emmett de la Renta."

"I should have just worn my jeans, but he said, 'no, you can't go on a date like that.'"

"You've got a date?" I smile.

"Yeah."

"A date?" I pull him into my arms. "Mikey's got a date!"

"I'm gonna call and cancel," he says into my shoulder.

"The fuck you are."

"Well, I can't go like this."

I look at him again. No, you sure the fuck can't. "You're right." Lucky for him, I went shopping today. I walk over to my bags and pull out a new shirt. "Here, try this."

"Are you sure?"

"I've got dozens of them."

"It's weird going on a date," he says as he walks away to put on the new shirt.

I go up to my room to rummage through my closet. "Make sure he opens the car door for you and pulls your chair out."

"That's what I mean," he replies. "It's so hetero. You ever been on a real date?"

"Once," I answer. "I ended up fucking the waiter."

"I don't know what to do, or what to say."

"Just be yourself."

"Yeah, that should make the evening fly by!" he retorts. "Why can't we just fast forward to the sex?"

"The point of a date, or so it's been explained to my by those that do that sort of thing, is that you actually get to know that other person before you fuck them."

"What a dumb idea!" he replies. "What if you don't like them?"

"Worse yet. What if you do?" I walk around him and reach out to roll up the sleeves of my black leather jacket I had put on him. "So," I ask, "who is this guy?"

"No one," he says as he turns and walks away. "I don't even know why I said yes. I guess I felt sorry for him."

"Ah, a mercy fuck."

"Who said I'm fucking him?"

"Well, if he's buying you an expensive dinner, you're going to have to put out. And this should do the trick," I move behind him and wrap my arms around his chest as we both look in the mirror. "Make him want to do the trick." I drop my chin onto his shoulder. "So, what do you think?"

"I think I look like you."

What better way to get laid? I turn him around so we're facing each other. "You look fantastic," I say as I cup his face in my hands. "You are fantastic." He really is. I place a gentle kiss on his lips. "Remember that. Now, you better go. You don't want to be late," I say as I lead him to the door.

"What about you? What are you up to tonight?"

"I'm entertaining a client."

"You're not going to go through with it?"

I slide the door open. "You're so cute." I grab him and push him out the door. "It will be over before you know it."

I don't know if I'm trying to convince him or me. I move over to look at myself in the mirror and try to make myself believe that what I'm about to do is not a big deal, or doesn't make me a whore.

============================

I am dressed simply in my black leather jacket, black wifebeater and a pair of jeans. I don't even get the chance to knock, as the door to Telson's hotel room is opened by a bellboy, who eyes me with a knowing smirk. Christ, so much for convincing myself I'm not a whore. I try to gather what little dignity I have left and strut into the room.

Marvin is on the phone. "I wasn't sure you'd come," he says, placing his hand over the receiver.

"I always come when I say I'm going to," I say as I turn and shut the door.

I take off my jacket and shoes then stand there as Marvin pours himself a glass of wine. "Go on," he motions to me as he sits in a chair. "Take it off. Everything." I sigh heavily and whip off my shirt, tossing it aside. I reach for my jeans and start to undo the buttons. "Wait," he says. "Could you go a little slower?"

Oh, for fuck sake. "What, you want a show?"

He smiles and nods. Creep. "Uh huh."

"Sure, why not?" I shoot back.

I undo the rest of the button fly, revealing that I'm not wearing underwear. I make a move to push my pants down when he speaks again. "Stop." He stands up and puts his wine glass down. He moves over to stand in front of me. He looks me up and down. "You have a beautiful body," he says.

At least one of us does, old man. "I know," I say. He goes down on his knees and pulls my pants the rest of the way down. Christ, I hope he can at least give a decent blow job. He is mesmerized by my cock and as he starts to go for it, the phone starts to ring. He ignores it, but it's getting on my fucking nerves, which, by the way are already on edge. "Aren't you going to get that?" I ask.

"Shit!" he exclaims as he crawls over to the phone. I pull my pants off the rest of the way and make myself comfortable in the chair he just vacated. He picks up the phone. "Yes? What is it?" He slowly rises off the floor. "Well, how is she? Was she badly hurt? Look, you're going to have to handle it. I'm in a meeting." I reach over for the bottle of wine, thinking alcohol may be a big helper tonight. I continue to listen to his side of the conversation. "There's no way I can leave," he says. "I told you, I've got too much going on." Fucking liar. I look at myself in the mirror in the opposite wall. Yep, rent boy, that's me. "Tell her I love her," he says into the phone, “and I'll be home tomorrow." He hangs up and turns back to me. "So, where were we?"

"Is somebody hurt?" I ask.

"Yeah, it's my daughter," he answers as he gets back down on his knees. "She broke her arm playing basketball."

"Sounds serious," I answer.

"She'll be alright," he replies as he slowly makes his way over to me.

"She was asking for you. She wants you to come home." Please go home, you old letch.

"She'll understand."

"What, that you're down on your knees, sucking cock?"

"Well, there's nothing I could do anyway."

Bastard. He makes a grab for me and I stop him. "I can." I pick up the phone and dial the operator. "Could you prepare Mr. Telson's bill? He'll be checking out immediately," I smile at Marvin. "Could you have a car waiting for him at the airport?" I finish and hang up the phone. "Your visit to queer world is over, Marvin," I say to him. "Go back to your wife and kids, and your thirty million dollar a year business," I grab the front of his shirt. "You'd be a fool to throw that away," I taunt him and then stand up.

"You know you're not as smart as I thought," he remarks as he moves back to his chair again. "What are you going to tell Ryder when he asks why you didn't get the account?"

I stop at the door, still completely naked, holding all my clothes. "I'll tell him we couldn't provide the services you required," I say as I step into the hall and pull the door closed behind me.

=========================

I know Lindsay's going to be uber pissed at me for missing dinner, but I'm willing to chance it so here I am knocking on the munchers‘ door late at night.

Lindsay opens the door just enough to look at me. "Were you sleeping?" I ask.

"We have a newborn here," she snarks. "We never sleep."

"Sorry I missed dinner," I say.

"Don't apologize. It doesn't become you. And don't think you can flash that smile and get away with it. It might have been cute at twenty, but at thirty, it's starting to get pathetic."

"Twenty-nine," I remind her as I flash her the smile she was just talking about.

She can't help but smile back, despite her intentions. "Have you eaten?" she asks.

I shake my head. "No."

"Come on," she says and goes to the kitchen.

While Lindsay is heating up leftovers Gus starts fussing so I pick him up out of his little baby bed thingy. I lie down on the couch and snuggle him on my chest. Christ, he's so tiny and helpless. I think of that asshole, Telson, abandoning his injured daughter for a piece of ass. Would I ever do that to my son? Could I? Was I doing it tonight when I skipped out on dinner? No, Gus wasn't hurt. He didn't really need me tonight. I know without a doubt that I would've dropped everything if he did.

I drift off to sleep with my beautiful son in my arms.