Justin stood in the middle of the loft, staring at his mother. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her look more beautiful, but the sight must be scrambling his brain. “The what association?” “The Greater Pittsburgh Realtors Association,” Jennifer said for the third time, her gaze going from him to Brian, who stood just to his right. “Honey, I’ve mentioned them before.” “Yeah, but never when you’ve just arrived all decked out in satin and wanting to take my boyfriend.” Justin felt Brian’s immediate glower. “It looks more like silk, a silk crepe,” Brian said as he strolled closer to finger the fabric. “Very nice.” He raised an eyebrow at Justin. “I doubt your mother has evil intentions, Sunshine.” “You don’t find it a little weird that my mother…” He touched his own chest like the two of them needed visual clues. “The woman who gave birth to me—that woman wants you to be her date? You. My-my—“ He threw up his hands because he couldn’t risk the B-word again. “The guy I fuck?” “Does it bring up that whole Oedipus thing in your widdle mind?” Brian gave Justin one of his best smirks. Before Justin answered, he’d returned his attention to Jennifer. “You look beautiful. And, yes, you’re right, I do have a pressed tux in my closet—Armani. If you need a boytoy, I’m yours.” “Boytoy?” Justin said, but it came out a squeak. His mom was wearing a black, full-length A-line evening gown with thin spaghetti straps, and a shiny cuff along the top that had a purplish sheen to it. Her hair had been tucked up into an elegant French twist, and the diamond earrings Dad had given her one year for her birthday glittered in her ears. She looked—yeah, no question about it—stunning. And if Brian put on that tux, well, damn, the two of them would be a knockout. “We were going to Babylon,” Justin said, one last-ditch attempt to stop this train wreck. His mom gave him her best disappointed frown. “I know and I’m sorry, but, like I told you, Bill Reynolds broke his leg during a little league game about an hour ago and—” “—you want to make a good impression at this shindig,” Brian concluded for her. Justin gritted his teeth. Damn, Brian was enjoying this way too much. “Why can’t I be your date?” he asked his mother when he realized that option. Ha! His mom’s smile faded just a bit. “Oh, honey, that would be wonderful. There’s nothing I’d like more than to introduce you to these folks especially since I think—well, I’m hearing that it’s a good possibility I’ll get the Realtor of the Year award, but I … you see, I’ve told a few of my colleagues that I … that I kind of have this friend, this male friend, and that we’ve been dating, and that he’s—” “—hot.” Brian spoke right in Justin’s face, bathing him in warm breath. “Not her pretty little blond son.” “Shut up!” “Just let me go get dressed.” Brian’s words were directed at Jennifer, but he continued to leer at Justin. “You are not someone’s boytoy!” “No, he’s not.” Jennifer said as Brian sauntered off toward the bedroom, looking horribly smug. His mom raised one shoulder in a half-apologetic shrug. “More like … well, a stud.” “A stud? You want my boyfriend to be your stud?” “I’m not your boyfriend!” Brian’s bellowed from behind the partitions. Justin gave his mother his most profound, totally freaked out look of disgust. “I can’t believe you’re doing this!” She adjusted the little black silk shawl that covered her bare shoulders and crossed her arms over her chest in a sudden parental move. “Try to be mature about this, Justin.” Brian’s cackling laughter echoed from the bedroom. “Shut the fuck up!” Justin yelled. He turned back to his mother. “Mature? I’m left with a boring night to myself while you spirit away my life partner—” He flung the words in Brian’s direction, “—because you want people to think you’re fucking him? And I’m the one being immature?” “Justin! I do not want people to think I’m fucking him!” “Well, then you’re taking the wrong person because that’s just what they’ll think!” To Justin’s amazement, his mom looked toward the bedroom where they could both hear the rustle of clothing, a contemplative look replacing the anger on her face. “Really?” she said after a moment. “He is very … masculine, isn’t he?” “Mom!” Oh, my God! Hands clutching his head, Justin walked away. Life as he knew it had ended. There was no doubt about that. When his mother—his mother, for God’s sake—was looking at Brian like that, well, the apocalypse couldn’t be far behind. “Honey, I just mean that—” “Please, don’t tell me what you mean. Please! I liked you a lot better when you were being a mother, when sex never, ever, ever came into the picture, and certainly not sex with my-my husband!” Brian’s good mood, though, was unassailable. “Which makes you the little wifey, just as I always suspected,” he called out. “Oh, dear!” His voice had risen to a falsetto. “Can you press these pants for me, my little love muffin?” “Shut the fuck up!” Justin shouted, but it was futile, wasn’t it? Completely futile.

Two

By the time they reached the Radisson Hotel, Jennifer’s fear that she’d destroyed her relationship with her son had abated. Maybe it was how stunningly handsome Brian looked in his tux? He had on a three-piece: black suit coat, trousers, and vest, which looked wonderful against the white silk shirt and tie he’d paired them with. His hair was brushed neatly into place and glinted with auburn highlights every time he turned his head. And he smelled heavenly. Or maybe it was the pot they’d smoked. He’d pulled it out just after they’d left Tremont, insisting she needed to relax, to not worry about Justin, and enjoy her evening. Generally speaking, she didn’t believe in doing drugs, particularly not with her son’s boyfriend in a limo on the way to a formal affair. But somehow, Brian managed to convince her. He had that effect on people, didn’t he? As they pulled up in front of the hotel, Brian gave her a genuinely warm smile. “Feeling better?” She smiled back, and thought it might be a little flirtatious—bad Jen. “Much.” “Good. Now just relax and let me play the attentive lover, okay? I can do that. Don’t freak.” “I’m sure you can.” Her smile widened. Damn, he had a sexy voice. And the intense masculinity he exuded….whew, no wonder it’d gotten Craig tied up in such fierce knots. Brian had more testosterone in his little finger than Craig had in his whole damn body. Jennifer snorted. As he helped her out of the limo, Brian grinned. “You doing all right, Jennifer?” “Yeah.” When he took her arm, she looked up. Wow, he was tall. Taller than Craig. Taller than any man she’d ever dated. And look at that jaw line. How come she’d never noticed that before? Or those eyes. What color were they? She wasn’t really sure. Green, maybe? So large and expressive, eyes you could get lost in. He really was so good looking and, yes, quite the stud. That was no lie. No wonder Justin didn’t want to let him out of his sight. She could see, in a flash of insight that was no doubt marijuana-inspired, why her teenage son had set his sights on the man and refused to be deterred. Damn straight. She would’ve done the same thing. “Here we are, sweetheart.” Brian had followed the signs and led her into the Greater Pittsburgh Realtors Association ballroom—Starlight, the area was called. She realized he had an arm around her shoulders. And a nice feeling it was. “Thanks,” she said, but before the word was even out of her mouth, she heard Marion Henricksen calling her. “Damn.” “Trouble?” Brian’s arm tightened protectively. “An enemy,” she hissed before she could stop herself. “Steady.” Brian’s handsome face immediately fell into pleasant-but-inane lines. Marion was fiftyish with white hair that had been dyed a dark brown and looked it. She was thoroughly frumpy and bossy, an unpleasant person who behaved like she had something uncomfortable up her ass. Jennifer managed not to giggle again at the thought. She was, however, the past president of GPRA, and had won the Realtor of the Year Award numerous times. Being so new to the association, Jennifer had to admit, the woman intimidated her. “Well, well, you made it,” Marion said now, her bird-like glances going from Jennifer to Brian and back again. “And you brought the promised boyfriend, I see!” Fuck. Jennifer’s mouth was dry and she wondered if this whole scheme was about to collapse on her in a horrible heap. But none of these people had the vaguest information about her life or her son’s life either. “Yes, uh, Marion, this is Brian Kinney. Brian, Marion Henricksen.” Brian’s smile was thoroughly fake, but dazzling. “Nice to meet you.” Marion blinked up at him. “My, my, aren’t you the handsome one? Robbing the cradle, I see, Jennifer.” She spoke in a mock chiding tone. “This one’s young enough to be your son.” “Now, now, Marion, he’s not quite that young.” Beside her, Jennifer could feel Brian stand a little taller. “Besides, older men bore me,” she said before she could stop herself. “And I love older women.” Brian spoke immediately, rubbing Jennifer’s arm, one eyebrow going up as he stared at Marion. “Intelligent older women. So, we’re an ideal match.” “And you’ve known each other how long, Brian?” Brian frowned in a way that was pure mockery, tapping a finger to his lip. “Hmm, how long has it been, Jen? Two years?” His smile got even wider. “We met through Jennifer’s son, Justin.” He batted his eyelashes at her. “We’re nearly the same age.” Jennifer tried to flinch, but he held her too tight. “That’s right. Justin.” “He worked as an intern at my ad agency.” Brian’s eyes bored into Marion’s. “You know, the place where ugly things are made beautiful?” “So you’re in advertising?” Marion said in a very unfriendly tone. “Yep.” “That’s funny,” she snapped. “I could’ve sworn you’re from an escort service.” Jennifer stiffened. “If I were,” Brian said without a moment’s hesitation, “I’m sure I’d remember you.” Marion gasped. “Well, I never—” “Let’s find our table, shall we, darling?” Brian leaned down to kiss Jennifer’s cheek. “Nice to meet you, Irene.” Without another word, he pulled Jennifer away. They found their table, Brian was introduced to the other couples, and shortly after that, dinner was served. The food was about as good as food ever was at these affairs, but there was lots of wine and good talk, so to Jennifer it hardly mattered. Mid-way through the evening, after she’d tipped back her third glass of Merlot, she’d finally begun to relax. Brian was right, she could do this! And he was being perfectly wonderful, wasn’t he? Chatting with all her friends, attentive to her every need, hell, let’s face, she was the envy of every single woman in the whole damn place. It was just a matter of time before Max made his way to their table. Good ole Max, she knew he couldn’t resist checking out the competition, although, well “competition” wasn’t exactly the right word—not anymore. Yeah, there’d been a time when she and Max might’ve been an item. They’d done a lot of flirting, gone to dinner. Heck, not only had she kissed him, she’d even let him get to first base, sort of. Not too many men could make that claim about Jennifer Ann Crofts Taylor. Still, he had to ruin it by boffing one of the secretaries at his realty firm, Joyal & Jewel. A twenty-something redhead, she’d promptly repaid him for his selfless act by resigning, which always made Jennifer chuckle. She huffed now, watching as Maxie- baby came closer. “Hey, gal.” Max had always been the moderately tall, moderately dark, moderately handsome man in the group of male losers that made up the GPRA. How any real estate ever got sold with the stubby, short, fat, and bald men whom she routinely dealt with day-to-day, Jennifer did not know. It’d always made Max feel like a king, though. She smiled. Until now. “Hi, Max. Good to see you.” She held out a hand, and they shook. “Let me introduce you to Brian Kinney. Brian, this is Max Joyal.” Brian stood up, offering his hand, instantly taller than Max’s six-feet. “Nice to meet you.” Max looked momentarily stunned, but recovered, putting on his game face as he returned the handshake. “I see what’s good for the goose is good for the gander, hey, Jen?” He flashed his signature smile. Those teeth, she knew, had cost him plenty. Jennifer stood up, gratified when Brian put an arm across her shoulders. “Oh, please, Max, don’t mistake this for your fling with Cassandra.” She so enjoyed the slightly smug expression she managed to give him. “I can assure you, Brian is no boytoy.” As she snuggled in a bit closer to Brian, she was aware of the eyes on her. Well, fuck’em all. Why shouldn’t a forty-something woman have a love affair with an incredibly good-looking thirty-two-year-old man? It was done all the time. It was even fashionable. She leaned in a little closer to Max. “In fact, there’s nothing about Brian that’s even vaguely boyish.” She raised both eyebrows just to make sure he got the point. Max did not look amused. “So, what do you do, Brian?” “Advertising.” “Really? I own my own real estate company. Joyal & Jewel.” “I own an ad agency. Kinnetik.” “Can’t say that I’ve ever heard of it. We use a number of the good agencies, but—” “I don’t think you would’ve,” Brian interrupted him effortlessly. “We only work with the larger realty companies like Breckenridge or Smith-Halverson.” Jennifer had to force herself not to jump up and down as the insult hit home. Breckenridge and Smith-Halverson were both huge agencies. She wanted to stomp her feet and scream at the expression on Maxie-baby’s face. Take that, you fucker! “Let’s get a little air, darling,” Brian said with that same air of authority that was knocking over the women right and left. “Nice to meet you, Matt.” “Max.” “Oh, right.” They moved onto the patio area and stood there for a moment while Jennifer tried to form the words to thank him. Her head was swimming though, and she wasn’t prepared for Brian’s next question. “He’s watching us,” he murmured, staring out at the darkened golf course just beyond. “He’s a prick, a real son of a bitch prick.” “I got that.” Brian sucked in his lower lip, eyes on her. “So, wanna give him a show?” “What?” “Shall I kiss you?” “You? Kiss me?” “I do know how to do it, you know.” She turned her face up to him, all the questions she’d had about him, all the things she’d wondered about his relationship with Justin, all of that coming to mind. Feeling kind of woozy, and maybe, just maybe, that was the excuse she needed. “Okay,” she said quickly, before her parental, reasonable self could interfere and ruin it for her. “Sure. Why not?” He poked his tongue into his cheek and grinned. “Hang on, dahling,” he said. The next instant, he’d drawn her close, his arms tight around her back, his mouth atop hers. He bent her back just slightly as his lips pressed hers, his tongue flicking across her mouth as if to invite entrance. She held her breath as she returned the kiss, opening her mouth, not surprised to discover he was an excellent kisser. The kiss seemed to go on forever.

Three

“Your mother wants me.” Justin stared at Brian, who’d just strode through the loft door, his mother in hand. He’d deposited her on the couch before coming to stand in front of Justin where he stood eating ice cream at the kitchen counter. Justin checked the clock. 12:30? “What? Why’d you bring her here?” Brian leaned closer and he could smell the wine on his breath. “Your mother. She wants me. She’s hammered and she wants me.” “Hammered? You got my mother drunk?” “She got herself drunk.” “What do you mean, she wants you?” Brian dipped even closer, eyes level with Justin as he gave him a sardonic stare. “Are these particularly hard concepts for you? Me.” He waved a hand to indicate his body. “This.” “Oh, my God, you‘re a freak! What’re you saying?” “I think I said it. She wants me. Do something.” He took Justin’s spoonful of ice cream and ate it, moving to scoop out another from the carton on the counter. Justin grabbed the hand, removed the spoon, and steered Brian toward the couch. “I can’t believe you let this happen. What do you think you’re doing?” “Being me, Sunshine.” Brian gripped him around the shoulders. “Can I help it if I’m irresistible?” His mother was sprawled on their couch, legs spread in very unladylike fashion, her black evening gown in stark contrast to the white-and-gold sofa on which she sat. “Justin!” she said in a bleary voice. “I won it! See? Me, I won!” She held up a Plexiglas trophy that looked vaguely like a Frank Lloyd Wright house. The words REALTOR OF THE YEAR were emblazoned on the base. “That’s great, Mom. Congratulations.” He noticed that her hair was falling out of its bun, that her lipstick had long since vanished, and that her blue eyes looked cloudy and unfocused. Fuck, she was hammered. “Uh, we should get you some coffee.” His mother’s gaze drifted off him as she stretched her arms wide. “It’s this big, Justin. Really, really, really big.” “Your award?” “It.” “Mom, you’re not—” “And it isn’t fair, the gay stuff. Not fair at all,” she went on in a rambling, voice. “Needs to be shared with us girls too, you know? Why’s he have to be so exclusive with it?” She bobbed her head in a gesture he guessed was meant to look wise. “Life’s not fair. But still, when you got it, flaunt it, right? All the women want to know—why’s he not flaunting?” The synapses in Justin’s brain began to fry as he realized what his mother—his fucking mother—was talking about. “How do you know what Brian’s … what Brian looks like?” He grabbed Brian by the front of his vest and pulled on him. “What the fuck have you been showing my mother?” “Didn’t show her nothin’.” Brian raised both eyebrows and stuck out his tongue. “Only for you, Sunshine.” He pulled Justin to him, an exaggerated pout pushing at his lips. “I don’t do women. Only in a cup.” “God, you’re as drunk as she is.” “Champagne,” Brian murmured, his eyes half-closed. He raised an imaginary glass. “Congrats, Jen!” “Why does she know so much about your dick?” Brian made an all-encompassing gesture that swept the room. “Worldwide knowledge! Everyone knows!” “Don’t give me that. How could she possibly—” “He came to the door, one time, long ago, stark naked,” his mother said just then. “Like to scare the shit out of me, just standing there, everything hanging out like that.” Her eyes widened. “Everything, Justin. You know what I mean? All of it.” She gave her head another woozy shake. “Just not fair. Shouldn’t be that way. Women got needs too, you know? Ought to share. Really ought to share.” “Oh, my God!” Unable to stop himself, Justin roared with laughter, so shocked, so horrified he felt as if head would explode. “So, you want to share, Brian, Mom? Is that what you’re saying? You can have him on, say, Tuesdays and Thursdays? And maybe every other Sunday? We’ll make it a family affair?” He leaned against Brian, howling with laughter, trying to imagine how they’d work out the details. Would he stay with Molly so that his mom could have her torrid love affair with Brian’s cock? And what the hell would he tell the Mollusk? Uh, mom’s doing some, uh, research on advertising—yeah, that was it, advertising! In depth research. To help her brilliant career as a realtor. Of course, she might be a bit disappointed when all Brian offered her was a cup of jizz! Justin laughed harder, bent double, one hand still on Brian as he tried to envision the gang’s reaction when they learned about the little tête-à-tête Brian was having with his mother! “Hey?” Brian was shaking his shoulders. “Hey!” Justin tried to stand straight, but the giggles were assailing him wave upon wave, “What?” he managed to sputter. “Oh, God, Brian having an affair with my mother! It hurts so bad! Please, make it stop!” Brian’s face was serious. He shook his head. “Ain’t gonna happen, Sunshine. No way.” “Why?” Justin wiped the tears from his eyes, and glanced back at his mother, seeing an equally stern expression on her face. “It looks like you guys are well on the way.” He guffawed again, clutching his stomach with his free hand. Brian pinched his mouth tight, his eyes focused hard on Justin. “You forget? I’m gay—big, ole homo queer boy, ‘member?” “Yeah,” Jennifer added, waving a hand in Brian’s direction. “He’s gay, Justin, and his hair’s gay and his legs are gay and his arms are gay and it’s gay—‘specially it. All gay all the time, ‘member?” Justin hit the floor, hard, legs drawn up, hands over his head, in definite pain as he shrieked with fresh laughter, tears making their way down his cheeks. He didn’t stop laughing for a long, long time