Page 9 of The Bro Date
“Good evening, Mother.” The words taste foul when I don’t even want to be here, but what else am I supposed to say?
“Mrs. Livingston,” Shane adds politely with a nod.
“Tobias.Shane.” I swear her lip curls a little when she practically spits his name like it’s poison. She scans him from head to toe, lingering on the tattoos sticking out of his rolled-up sleeves.Judging him.
I fucking hate it, and I hate being here.
“So good to see you boys. Please, do come in,” she says with false sincerity.
I’m sure my mother isn’t happy I brought him, but tonight, Shane’s offering to be my shield, and I’m going to let him.
“Say hello to your father in his study. Dinner will be ready shortly.” Her high heels clink against the hardwood floor as she sashays back to the kitchen.
“Yes, ma’am,” we say in unison, stepping into the large foyer, complete with an elaborate bouquet of fresh flowers and a giant, driftwood chandelier.
“This way,” I murmur, leading him upstairs to the library as if he doesn’t remember where it is. My parents have lived in this house since we first moved to Crescent Bay ten years ago.
I pause at the top of the stairs, speaking in a hushed whisper. “I’m sorry for dragging you along.”
“Don’t be,” he murmurs, and I almost don’t hear the next part. “I’d go anywhere with you, Toby.”
My stomach bottoms out, and I tell my heart not to read too much into his words. Shane isn’t gay. He doesn’t even really likegirls.
“I . . .”
I don’t know what to say.
“Thank you,” I whisper, feeling guilty that I’m hiding such a huge secret from him when he’s been nothing but steadfast and loyal for ten years.
Shane reaches out, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze and sending a lightning bolt straight to my dick.
“After you.” He sweeps his arm out in front of us and holds it there.
I brush past him, leading us to the arched doorway of my father’s study and lightly knocking on it.
“Tobias,” he says in a bored greeting when we step into what has always been deemedhisspace and usually off-limits.
Matthew Livingston has thick brown hair that’s neatly parted on one side and just barely starting to gray at the temples. His black-framed glasses compliment his strong jaw, and as always, he’s wearing a fucking suit and dress shoes to dinner.
He’s standing in front of the wet bar, sipping his favorite whiskey, while some nature show plays unwatched in the background. Not to mention, he’s probably hiding out from Mom.
Silver moonlight shines through the skylights above, illuminating the wooden bookshelves lining the walls and the hundreds of books on them. If I didn’t already know they were filled with nonfiction and religious texts, I might actually be impressed. Or even excited.
I prefer romance.
Taking a deep breath and steeling my resolve, I stroll over to greet my father with a strong handshake, followed by Shane.
“Shane, buddy. I didn’t know you were coming,” my dad says somewhat rudely before turning to me. “Tobias, when your mother told me you were bringing a guest, I thought you were finally bringing a girl home,” he chuckles, trying to belittle me. “Shane’s not your boyfriend, is he?”
My lungs freeze with panic. In fact, I think my brain does, too. I’m completely unable to voice any sort of comeback as all the blood drains from my face. Luckily, Shane swoops in and saves me with the perfect joke.
“Nah. Toby’s outta my league,” Shane quips with a smirk, giving me a subtle nudge with his elbow.
My dad barks out a loud laugh, ushering us over to the lounge area. “Take a seat, boys.”
He sits in his favorite old wingback chair, while Shane and I take the sofa.
“So, tell me, son, how was Key West?” Dad asks, crossing his legs and resting his ankle on the opposite knee. “Your mother was quite upset you didn’t come home for spring break when we’ve hardly seen you all year. You do know we live on the beach, too, hmm? You didn’t have to go all the way to Florida.”
