Page 44 of One Lovely Lie

My mother obviously isn’t pleased with my subtle dismissal of Florence but follows me, regardless. We make our way to my father’s study where he is diligently working over his desk, a stack of papers in need of review piled on the wooden surface. He’s so engrossed in his task that he barely notices when we walk in. It isn’t until I clear my throat that he acknowledges me.

“Daniel!” he shouts, a grin overpowering his face as he quickly discards his work. “I didn’t realize you were home.”

“Just got in,” I say, walking to the center of the room to meet his handshake. “I was wondering if we could talk about the French elephant in the room.”

My father’s brow wrinkles. “Florence?”

“You know, it’s highly rude to leave her all alone,” my mother comments, shooting me a disappointed look.

I count to three in my head before I speak. “What are you two doing here?”

“What do you mean?”

“We just want you to show the nice girl around. Spend some time with her.”

This time I count to five.

“You remember I’m gay, correct?” I question, raising my eyebrows at both of them. “That’s a thing that’s real.”

My father huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“You’ve known I’m gay since I was twelve and you were always so supportive,” I say, hoping that’s still true. “Why are you setting me up with a French girl?”

“We’re not setting you up and she’s not just anyFrench girl,” my father bites back, looking as annoyed as I feel. After a beat, his face relaxes and he sighs. “Listen, we understand that you have a certain leaning toward males, but I’ve also been reading up on bisexuality—”

I gasp and die a little. “Kill me now. You have not.”

“Perhaps you’re bisexual,” my mother concludes. “You’d never know.”

I’m suddenly taken back to a mere hours ago when Magnus was plowing his huge cock up my ass and I was moaning like a slut for it.

“Trust me,” I mutter, cheeks pink. “I’d know.”

“All we’re asking is for you to humor us. After everything we’ve done for you, can you do this one thing for us?”

There it is. The good old-fashioned guilt trip. I hate to say it, but it works every time. No matter what they ask, no matter what they do, I always cave. I have to say it’s entirely because of my upbringing—my warm, calm, happy upbringing—that makes me so docile.

Honestly, my father looks so fucking tired. His usual blond hair is streaked with so much gray that it looks white. The little wrinkles in the corners of his eyes no longer look like laugh lines but like stress lines.

So, I suck up my pride, march back into the sitting room, plaster on my most charming smile, and say—

“Florence, can I get you a drink?”

Chapter 14

Magnus

Ten, eleven, twelve, thirt— Fuck!

I curse out loud, watching as the soccer ball that I’m juggling lands on top of the net in front of me.

“Goddamnit,” I mutter. It’s going to be a bitch to get that.

I’m so unbelievably bored. It’s been a week since the start of break and everything’s been shit. Today, I’ve resorted to coming out to the soccer pitch to try and get some more juggles in—my record is a hundred—but I just can’t seem to find my literal footing today.

The first few days of break were fine. I hung out with Carter, just smoking weed and chilling out in the courtyard. Avery’s been Avery, completely all over the place, deciding that he wants to learn how to interpretive dance, and disappearing all the time. The distractions had been nice, but now I’m just missing Daniel so fucking bad.

It’s not like we’ve never spent time apart growing up. I remember when we were six, his parents took an extended vacation to Paris and they were gone for almost two months. Sure, I missed him. It felt like the end of the world at the time, but I was just exaggerating.

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