Chapter 16
Sixteen
Thomas
I don’t know what made me offer it. Maybe I just wasn’t thinking clearly.
It’s one thing for us to go to a work party together, but this is Angelo’s family.
Still, he didn’t throw the offer out the window.
And the thought of pulling this off for a second time doesn’t feel as challenging.
We might not be a real couple, but it’s easy being around Angelo.
There’s a closeness that I can’t ignore.
One thing I wish I would’ve known when I agreed to this is that Angelo’s parents live an hour away.
We decided it made the most sense for him to leave his car at my house, and we could take my car together.
Still, the drive feels a bit awkward. I’ve got the radio playing Christmas music as Angelo hums along, but it can’t take my mind off the situation.
I’ve already asked if there’s anything else I should know as his boyfriend, but surprisingly, Angelo didn’t have anything new to add.
We’ve gotten to know each other fairly well over the last month or so, and I’m not scrambling to remember facts at the last minute.
Which only leaves my mind to wonder about other things.
I want to leave well enough alone and just enjoy what we have going on, but it feels like the other shoe is about to drop.
We’re living in some fantasy where we can fool around and pretend to date without any consequences, but realistically how long can we pull this off?
Angelo places his hand on my thigh as his humming stops. “We’re coming up to the turn,” he tells me. “Almost there.”
I nod, knowing the GPS will let me know, but it doesn’t hurt to have Angelo tell me in advance.
When I pull to a stop in front of his parents’ house, Angelo is pulling at the hem of his sweater rather than looking at the house and the other cars filling the street.
“Hey,” I place my hand on top of his. “It’s not too late to change your mind.
We don’t have to lie if you don’t want to.
We can tell them we’re just friends,” I offer.
“No, I’m good. Let’s do this.” Angelo’s hand curls around mine, giving a less than confident squeeze.
Still, I don’t argue further as I follow him up to the door of the house.
Angelo reaches out to knock, and I wrap my arm around his waist, pulling him closer to my side.
Angelo stiffens for a moment before he relaxes into the embrace.
Then the door opens. A woman stands there who is clearly related to Angelo. She looks like an older female version of him. Right down to her shoulder-length curls. “You must be Angelo’s mother,” I say, using my hand that isn’t around Angelo to reach out and shake her hand.
“Well, aren’t you a little charmer?” she teases. “Please dear, you can call me Margaret.”
“Margaret then, and I’m Thomas, Angelo’s boyfriend.”
She backs up, letting us get inside and shrug off our heavy coats before she pulls Angelo in for a hug.
“You can help yourselves to drinks. Dinner will be ready in a few,” Margaret tells us.
Now that we’re in the house, I can see the place is packed with people.
Adults talk in groups as kids run around playing.
Angelo leads me to a table in the dining room filled with drinks and finger foods. “Alcoholic or non?” he asks.
“I’ll drink if you are,” I answer.
“Good choice,” he tells me. He grabs two disposable cups and fills them with what looks like cider and rum. I take a drink and taste all the warm spices mixing together on my tongue, overpowering the burn of the alcohol. It’s smooth, and I already know I’ll have to be careful not to drink too much.
Angelo stays by my side, introducing me to cousins, siblings, nieces, and nephews.
All the names that I quickly forget. It’s chaos trying to keep up, but it’s a nice kind of chaos.
Sticking with Angelo gives me a lifeline.
He’s there to make small talk, inviting me into the conversations as his boyfriend.
Meanwhile, his hands are constantly touching me.
Angelo places his hand on my elbow or laces his fingers in mine.
I wrap my arm around his waist, and he leans into me.
There’s hardly a moment when we aren’t touching each other in some way.
“Dinner is served,” Margaret calls as she walks out of the kitchen holding a ham on a serving platter. Everyone makes their way to the dining room, separating into groups as the kids sit at their own table. I wind up seated between Angelo and one of his sisters, Vanessa.
“Thomas, what do you do for a living?” Vanessa asks.
“I’m a veterinarian,” I answer. It’s mostly been talk like this throughout the night, so I’m prepared for the question. I take another drink of my cider, but the next question catches me off guard.
“Do you have plans for tomorrow? Visiting your family, maybe?”
“I’ll be spending the day with my son. My ex has him today, but I get Christmas.” It only now occurs to me that I’m not sure if Angelo wants his family to know that he’s my son’s teacher. We didn’t go over that, but he was fine with telling his coworkers about it, so hopefully it’s fine.
“You have a son? How old is he?” Vanessa asks.
“He’s fourteen.”
“Fourteen, wow, that makes him what in high school?”
“Yes, this is his first year in high school,” I answer, and that’s when she looks at Angelo, and I can see her putting the pieces together. She must know what grade he teaches.
“Is that how you met Angelo?” she asks.
My cheeks warm up, and I’m not sure if I can blame it on the alcohol. “Yes, we met through the school.”
Angelo’s hand lands on my thigh as he checks in on me. “Is Vanessa harassing you?”
“I’m just trying to get to know him,” she defends herself. “It’s not every day you bring a boy home.”
“I’m okay,” I say as I place my hand on top of Angelo’s. Still, I take advantage of the food on the table to avoid more conversation.