Page 31 of Dear Mr. Brody

“I’ll do no such thing.” He shoved my knee with his hand, his smile as saccharine as ever. “Did you go and find yourself a daddy?”

“He’s only thirty-three.”

“Well, that’s boring. Where did you meet him?”

“Pegasus.”

“No, you did not.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Park. That place is a breeding ground for catfish.”

“He seems nice.”

Marcos raised his hand, holding up two fingers, he’d grabbed the waitress’s attention. “I need more beer for this conversation.”

“His name is James—well, that’s his middle name. We decided to keep it anonymous.”

“Red flag number one, continue.”

Exhaling an exasperated laugh, I searched the room for our friends, who maybe could offer me some kind of buffer, but came up empty. “You’re going to ruin it.”

He sat up and took a deep breath as he rolled his shoulders.

“I’ll be quiet.”

“No, you won’t.”

“I will. I promise. Continue.” He brought his fingers to his lips and pretended to zip them shut.

“I’m anonymous on Pegasus, too, by the way. It’s better that way. Makes for a less awkward exit when things don’t pan out.” Marcos, as promised, didn’t comment. “The story is he’s divorced. Was married to the same woman his whole life. And he’s ready to explore his attraction to men.”

“Wait, he—”

“You promised to keep your mouth shut,” I said and smiled when he rolled his eyes.

“May I ask a question?” He spoke slowly, his aggravation apparent in the tight set of his jaw.

This was awesome.

“You may.”

“And you’re going to be, what, his guinea pig?” All traces of humor evaporated from his face. Shit, I was in for it now. “I know I’m a nag, and half the time I do it to get a rise out of you, but Park… this could end like Florida and—”

“Stop,” I said and stood abruptly. “I’m not fucking naïve. I know how to protect myself.”

“Okay,” he breathed, looking around the room. A few people had started to stare at us, and I couldn’t give a shit less. “Sit down, alright. I’m sorry.”

My jaw pulsed as I sat down, my heart banging around in its cage like it wanted to escape this conversation as much as I did.

“I’m not a victim.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Then, stop treating me like one.”

His dark eyes searched my face, and once my breathing evened out, he spoke again. “I love you like a brother,” he said and leaned toward me, his hand covering mine. “I know you’re not a victim. But I also know how fucked up you were... after what happened to you. We kept our heads down,mijo, for far too long. I don’t ever want that for you again.”

“I can’t let that one moment define me. I got my ass kicked. I was a dumb kid who trusted the wrong person.” Marcos gave my hand a squeeze before he lowered his own to his lap. “I won’t ever let that happen again.”

“And if you meet this James guy, you’ll do it in public?”

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