Role Playing(81)

“Still,” she said, with a mischievous smile. “You’d actually brave the front desk and any possible gossip?”

To prove his point, he went over to the phone, hitting the number. “Front desk, how can I help?”

He took a deep breath, then quickly muttered, “Would it be possible to have a few condoms sent up to room 212?”

There was only the slightest pause before the man answered, “Of course, sir. We’ll have them delivered as soon as possible.”

“And you can bill them to the room?”

“Don’t worry. No charge.” Aiden could swear there was a smile in the guy’s voice. He hung up.

Aiden turned to see Maggie covering her face with a pillow. “I can’t believe you did that!” she said, her voice muffled.

He pulled on a robe. “If you can’t believe that,” he teased, pulling the pillow from her and kissing her soundly, “just wait till you see what I do with them.”





CHAPTER 34


I HAVE NO SON!

It had been an incredible night . . . more incredible than he could’ve dreamed. They hadn’t used the condoms after all, unfortunately, since room service hadn’t come for almost an hour. After a smirking delivery, they’d cleaned up, teasing and talking in robes. Then they’d snuggled naked under the covers, whispering and laughing until they fell into a dazed sleep.

The next morning was chaotic. He’d forgotten to set their alarm, which meant a mad rush.

He’d forgotten how intimate, sweet, and downright hot it could be, being with someone he was actually attracted to. Not just the sex, nonpenetrative as it was, but sleeping wrapped around someone you genuinely cared about. This was all so different. He was different. He wasn’t a young high school or college student, intrigued and confused and awkward. He wasn’t a heartbroken adult, either, looking at getting married and going on the traditional “grown-up” path. He was in the enviable position of being old enough to not feel pressured, not worry about fulfilling anybody’s expectations. Even better, he’d been with Maggie, who had her own insecurities, sure, but she’d had no qualms about him, and there had been no pressure. They’d just been together, and that had been glorious.

Unfortunately, now he was paying the price for his fantastic night.

After kissing Maggie goodbye, he’d collected his mother from her room, and from that point on, she had been giving him the quintessential cold shoulder. She looked exhausted, but more than that, furious.

He brought her slowly back to the car, carrying the luggage. She was silent. Now, they were nearly to Fool’s Falls, and she was still silent. It had been over two hours. She’d never been that quiet with him in her life unless she was sleeping.

“I’m guessing you’re angry,” he said, deciding to simply lance the conversational boil.

“Don’t talk to me.”

“What happened was not my fault,” he pointed out. “You told me I needed to bring a date to the wedding—”

“I meant Deb!”

“Do you honestly think that Sheryl would’ve treated Deb differently?” he asked. “This is Sheryl’s fault. Maggie and I were being—”

“Maggie,” his mother said, her voice dripping with venom. “That woman! Causing a scene!”

“Maggie caused a scene?” he echoed. “Did you not remember Sheryl saying that I’m gay—incorrectly, I might add, not that she seems to understand that? Or dragging up all that stuff from the past? How is any of that Maggie’s fault?”

“Sheryl shouldn’t have said anything either,” his mother conceded, after a long pause. “But that Maggie was just throwing gasoline on a fire. And it’s not like Sheryl was lying, was it?”

“For fuck’s . . .” He gripped the steering wheel, forcing himself to count to ten. “My point is, Sheryl’s the one with the problem. I could’ve brought the most Instagram-perfect woman on the face of the earth, and Sheryl would’ve still given me shit and tried to ruin it!”

“You didn’t cuss half this much before you met Maggie.” He glanced over to see his mother crossing her arms, scowling so hard it had to hurt her face. “Deb wouldn’t have caused this kind of trouble. Sheryl would’ve understood her. They’re . . . you know, the same kind of woman!”

Now his eyes narrowed. “Mom,” he asked carefully. “Is this because Maggie’s Asian?”

“What! No!” Her voice was shrill. Defensive. “I’m not racist!”

“Good.” His voice, in comparison, was cold and laced with doubt.

“But Deb goes to church, like Sheryl does. Deb has the same, you know, values as Sheryl. Deb knew Sheryl in school, was just a year behind, you know! They would have been friendly!”

“That would’ve made Sheryl even angrier. She’d wonder why I could be with Deb, and not make it work with her. She’d definitely have spilled the beans on my past anyway . . . which, incidentally, I’m realizing I’m sick of hiding.”

“Don’t,” his mother breathed. “Don’t you dare.”

“Don’t what, Mom?” he said. “Don’t tell people I’m bi? Don’t let anyone know I was in a relationship with a man in college? For God’s sake, Mom, I’m fifty years old and I’m still in the closet!”