Chapter Nine

 

BRYAN

 

The next day—the day after the man of my dreams and I exchanged “I love yous” oh, and I spilled my guts about the worst parts of my life—I woke in his arms. Cay kissed me awake and then broke the news that we needed to get up soon and head over to his daughter’s home. He softened me up with a nice blowjob—well, softened is the wrong word for what he did to me—but I was putty in his hands, and we both knew it.

And what’s more, it didn’t scare me. After spending the better part of the past decade afraid of things, that knowledge was like an anvil dropping from my shoulders. Even if I was intimidated by Mac’s mother.

“So…” I got Cay’s attention gently since he still hadn’t opened his eyes after coming. “We’re going to see Mac’s mom?”

“Val. Valerie Ueda. If that’s okay with you. She really wants us to. And by that, I mean, if we don’t, she’ll come over.”

“So—”

“She doesn’t know where you live. Details like that rarely stop her.”

“Well, then. I wasn’t arguing. I was going to ask about her last name. Ueda?”

“It’s Japanese. She says it means above, top—as in she’s above it all, the top of the heap—but her dad says it’s just another of the many ways to say rice field.” He opened his eyes and smiled. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

“Okay.”

Cay raised his arm and somehow had his phone in his hand. I thought he’d left it on the couch, but there it was. “I’d suggest a shared shower, but she’s already texted me twice.”

“I’ll be quick.”

“You’re going first?” He might have tried to look hurt but was having trouble keeping from laughing.

“It’s my shower.”

He didn’t need to know that I’d skipped showering altogether the day before if he hadn’t already guessed as much. I grinned and gave him a peck on the lips and before I could jump out of bed he hooked a hand under my arm and stopped me. Cay wore an apologetic smile. but I only saw it for a second before his lips found mine for a real kiss.

 

It seemed like only moments later we stood at the door to an apartment in a fairly nice building. A staff of rainbow-colored musical notes marched across the welcome mat. I expected Cay to open the door, or at least knock, but he only stood there staring at the closed door.

I took his hand and he swallowed audibly. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Before we go in. If she acts…cold…it’s not you.”

I raised my eyebrows to invite him to elaborate, but the door opened before he could. I registered it was Mac as she hugged me. Hard. Like Rosie’s kids had when they were small and something scared them.

“Good morning,” Mac said into my shoulder. “I’m glad you came.”

I returned her embrace, and Cay joined us. “Me too, Mac.”

A formidable woman came to stand in the tiny foyer. Tiny almost described her too—she couldn’t be more than five-five. She’d looked taller on stage but was no less intimidating for her lack of height. She also looked prettier close-up, and a little older with a few strands of white in her sleek black hair. As it dawned on me that she was sizing me up too, Cay stepped away and cleared his throat. It sounded equal parts nervous and theatrical.

“Val, Bry. You haven’t been formally introduced—”

Mac laughed, softly, and must have shoved Cay because he bumped into my back.

“Spare me,” Val drawled. “Let’s all go sit.” She turned and stalked away.

Cay took my hand, and we followed. Mac too, fortunately, so things would likely remain civil. Val sat at the head of an oblong table that filled the small dining area attached to a galley kitchen that smelled like breakfast. As we reached the table, she stood.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean that to sound so…snotty. I’m glad you’re here. Both of you.”

We mumbled our thanks and took seats along the side closest the door. The side where we weren’t sitting with our backs against the wall, anyway. Mac sat at the head—or the foot?—of the table, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she put herself on my side intentionally.

“Did you work it out?”

We barely had time to nod before she continued.

“Good, because I don’t know what you were thinking—not sharing the basic info like jobs and…whatever else you haven’t talked about.” She stood and paced into the kitchen and a few seconds later a coffeemaker started burbling. Val returned to the table but wasn’t any less intimidating than she had been when she left.

Cay seemed to gather himself to speak, straightening his back and pulling in a breath, but Val raised a hand and he relaxed back into his chair.

“Mac is on my health insurance as of yesterday, so no worries there. And Tash wants you to call him about the studio gig.”

I turned to Cay, grateful to be focused on him instead of Val. Her intensity shone a little too brightly for first thing in the morning.

“Studio gig?”

Val leaned both elbows on the table and rested her chin in her palms. So much of my concentration had returned to her, I nearly flinched when Cay turned to me. By the big, warm hand that quickly found and squeezed my thigh, I realized “nearly” was a tad optimistic.

“Tash owns the studio Always Forward! records in. He’s been trying to get me in for part-time work for years. But—” He turned to Val. “—I need full-time.”

“Maybe not. At least not immediately. Talk to Tash and see what he’s offering. Let me crunch a few numbers. I’m thinking I can at least get you a sabbatical.”

I barely restrained myself from saying he could move in with me. To save money, sure, but I wanted every morning to be at least as good as this one. I didn’t realize I wanted it so badly until the disappointment of not asking settled in.

Mac bumped my shoulder with hers. When I turned, she smiled at me, her exquisitely sculpted brows raised. I shook my head—only the tiniest bit—and she winked. I had the feeling she’d read my mind, but even if that wasn’t scary in itself, I didn’t want to discuss my innermost thoughts and desires in front of her mom. At least not before discussing them with Cay.

After a short, tense silence—in which Val and Cay seemed to have a conversation the rest of us weren’t privy to—Val stood. She took a lingering look at the table and announced breakfast was ready as a timer dinged in the kitchen. Mac helped bring place settings and a colorful frittata in a cast iron pan that was almost as large as the leaf in the center of the table. The way Val handled the frying pan, muscles in her arms bulging but otherwise as though it weighed no more than a dinner plate, swung my feelings for her back into the severely intimidated range. Something else Mac seemed to pick up on and find amusing.

Slowly, as we ate the delicious meal, conversation wandered from the band to a community art class Mac wanted to take, and back onto us—Cay and me. Val shot Cay a warning, or maybe an assessing look, and then gestured with her fork.

“Does he always take the lead, Bryan? Or do you guys take turns?”

I blushed because her eyes asked a slightly different question than who drives when we go out. “I’m fine following. It’s a departure for me.”

“Is it, now? Because leading is a departure for Cay.”

“Val.” Cay didn’t quite whine—okay, he whined like his big sister was telling tales out of school, stretching her name into two syllables.

“It’s true, and you know it. You’ve never gone after anyone in your life until now. That might be the kind of thing you two should talk about.” She scooped the last bite of eggs from her plate and paused with it halfway to her mouth. “Just saying.”

My blush deepened, but I answered anyway. “Until now, I’ve always been the pursuer. It’s nice to be pursued for a change.” I smiled at Cay, and we leaned in for a short kiss.

He didn’t pull back far, which made it difficult to breathe.

“At the race? I ran into you on purpose.” He smiled and kissed my heated cheek, his hand squeezing my thigh.

Mac sighed to my left and Val’s fork came to rest on her plate with a clatter. When I could tear my eyes from Cay’s, Val was grinning at us.

“That’s what I’m talking about.” She nodded.

We stayed for a couple of hours, until Val had to leave for rehearsal, and by the time we left, I’d started believing she approved of me—of us.