Page 102 of Romance Languages

“The fat ones.”

“And the very skinny ones or oddly shaped ones,” she noted. “But yes, mainly the fat ones.” Tears formed at the corners of her eyes. “All my life, I’d been told how pretty I was. That was the main—only—compliment my parents gave me. That was how teachers and friends and guys described me. I was never called smart or interesting or funny or kind. Just pretty. When I would get back tests with Cs and Ds, my teachers would tell me, ‘At least you have your looks.’ They thought they were being nice.”

I guffawed at what teachers used to get away with.

“It taught me that looks mattered most. They were all that mattered. So when I saw you were having trouble with your weight, I thought I had failed as a mother. And I even thought…it was karmic payback for how I’d treated others.” She wiped at tears rolling down her face. “You are such a wonderful young man, Julian. Youaresmart, interesting, funny, kind. All the things I wanted to be.” She grabbed my hands. “I’m proud you are my son.”

My anger at Mom dissipated, turning into pity. Mom and I had had completely different upbringings. She came from a world where a woman was only allowed to be pretty or ugly. It was hard to shake off the things that warped our minds when we were young. But it sounded like she was trying.

We hugged, and her warmth filled my soul.

“Have you tried the brownies?” she asked. “People have said they’re to die for.”

“I’ll check them out.”

Her eyes flicked up as Seamus rejoined us, a knowing smile on her lips.

“I’ll let you boys eat. Seamus, welcome to the family.”

I grabbed a brownie off Seamus’s plate.

“I got there just in time. They’re clearing things away.”

Seamus put his hand on my knee and rubbed up my inner thigh, heat instantly pooling in my gut.

“Seamus.” I shuffled my chair so my legs (and erection) were fully under the tablecloth. “What are you doing?”

“According to my phone, we have five hours until your birthday,” he said in my ear in a raspy growl. “Maybe we should get going.”

“That’s plenty of time,” I said.

He let his hand graze directly over my crotch. “You sure about that?”

My grandparents wouldn’t mind me cutting out early. Grandma was no cockblock. Surely, she would be doing the same.

29

JULIAN

It was a very difficult drive back to my apartment. Concentrating on the road was difficult when I had a beautiful man in the passenger seat. Seamus found his suit to be stifling and uncomfortable, but damn if he didn’t look runway ready, especially with his loosened tie. And the hungry look in his eyes was devouring me whole.

Additionally, driving with an erection was not something I would recommend. It diverted needed focus away from my brain.

We pulled up to the curb, where I did a horrendous parallel parking job. If I got a ticket, I’d go to court and plead with the judge to let it go because I was about to get laid for the first time, and really, wasn’t that more important than being too far off the curb?

“This is it, Jules. Tomorrow, you will be thirty-five and no longer a virgin. Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me?”

“For letting me do the honors of deflowering you. It’s something I don’t take lightly,” he said with all seriousness.

“I’m deflowering you, too. Your first time with a guy.”

“This is true. Nervous?” He cocked an eyebrow.

A flutter of nerves expanded in my stomach. I was about to make love to the man I loved. Yeah, I was nervous.

“Taking someone’s v-card is just as stressful as having the v-card. Everybody remembers their first time. You’re going to remember tonight forever, for better or worse. It’s going to be tens across the board.”

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