Page 69 of Resisting You

“Have a good night. Be safe. Use condoms.”

Frey shoved him out of the door and slammed it, then turned back to see Rex watching him with careful eyes. ‘Ready to help me clean?’

Rex turned and buried his head under the pillows. Frey wished he could do the same.

Renato was ten minutes late, which felt like ten hours, but only because Frey kept expecting him to cancel. It had been a long time since he’d had someone over who wasn’t one of his friends, so he was feeling on the edge of frantic.

Rex was true to his word and refused to help clean, so Frey set him up in front of his reading lessons at his desk while he tried his best to put away all their clutter. He didn’t really have much in the way of stuff—most of it was just Rex’s things—but everything felt like a damn disaster.

He was still wearing rubber gloves and smelled a little like Mrs. Meyers basil spray when the doorbell flashed. He managed to get them off and into the sink before hurrying to the door, and he was breathing heavily when he flung it open to find Renato there with two grocery bags hanging off one arm.

Renato offered him a shy smile as he looked him up and down. “You’re sweaty. Were you working out?”

Frey shook his head and stepped back. “Uh. Just…some tidying up.”

Renato walked in and looked around, and Frey tried to read his expression, but the man had a poker face to rival Vegas card sharks. “Cute,” he said after a beat.

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.” Frey rubbed the back of his neck, then lunged at him, and Renato stumbled back a step as Frey grabbed the bags. “Um,” he said, realizing he was behaving like he was on drugs, “can I…take the food?”

Renato slowly removed them from his arm, and Frey walked over, tossing them on the counter. Renato let out a small sigh behind him, and as soon as he turned, the older man had him pinned to the counter. “Where is your son?”

“Um. At his desk,” Frey said breathlessly.

“Will he be traumatized if he sees me kissing you?” Renato murmured.

Frey swallowed heavily. “No. But he might traumatize you by planning our wedding.”

“I like the idea of Milan in the spring,” Renato said, then swooped in and took Frey’s lips in a lingering kiss. Frey lost himself in the feel of Renato’s warmth, in his demanding tongue, and the way he broke it off with tiny little nips.

Frey felt off-kilter in all the best ways, and he swallowed down his fear because God, it really was going to hurt when this all ended. He knew he should do the mature thing and have the talk with Renato—especially because of how obsessed his son was with the idea of marriage—but it could wait a little while.

And it would be a good lesson for Rex to learn: that not everything ended in happily ever afters.

Renato sighed as he stepped all the way back, and Frey watched him adjust himself through his trousers before straightening his shoulders. He looked amazing as always in his shirtsleeves and black pants, and Frey was hoping he planned to stay long enough to peel him out of them.

“Did you ask him if he wanted to cook pasta with me?”

Frey blinked. “Oh. You were serious about that?”

Renato frowned. “Did I seem sarcastic?”

“Like I said, it’s hard to tell,” Frey answered with a shrug, “but most people aren’t into, you know, kids.”

“I’m not a kid person,” Renato confessed, “but I like yours. He’s very…honest.”

Frey burst into laughter. “Yeah. That’s one way of putting it. But there are some rules. Um.” He twisted his hands in front of him. “When he’s in the room, we’re voice-off.”

Renato’s mouth twitched into a smile. “I noticed.”

“It’s not like I’m trying to make things uncomfortable, you know, for anyone. But, like, he can’t hear. And it’s only fair, and when people?—”

“Frey,” Renato said softly and stepped close again. He touched his cheek. “I’m happy to sign with your son. I can do voice-off.”

Frey shook his hands out between them, then brought his fingers to his chin. ‘Thank you.’

Renato smiled as he signed back, ‘You’re welcome.’

Frey left Renato to unpack all the groceries, and he made his way into the bedroom, where Rex was sitting on top of his desk, pushing keys on the keyboard with his feet. Frey rolled his eyes as he flicked the lights, and Rex looked over.

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