Luigi brought salads, and Sean moved back to the other side. I missed his comforting warmth. While Luigi was there, we both ordered chicken piccata even though I thought maybe Sean would have liked fettucine Alfredo. For a few seconds, we both chewed salad. Luigi was famous for his Italian dressing. It had all kinds of zing.
Sean looked up, still chewing. “So, we haven’t discussed next year.”
I gave him a shrug and a small smile. Hell, I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. He had a big future. We’d only been dating a few weeks.
“I graduate in May and, like you, I require an advanced degree to pursue my chosen field.” I grinned at the way he’d included me in his statement about advanced degrees like it was just your regular. Man, that was a thrill. He went on, all Sean-serious. “I’ve been offered several scholarships for PhD programs in genetics and genomics. One of those is here at Madison.”
My heart gave a little leap. I guess I’d assumed he’d be going away. I’d tried not to think about it.
He frowned. “My parents would prefer I accept the offer from Harvard, but that’s because it’s their alma mater. In fact, the offer from Madison is better since it includes a research apprenticeship with a generous salary, and while Harvard is rated number one, Madison is also in the top five in the US.”
“That’s wonderful. Anyone would be lucky to get you.”
“Of course.”
I almost laughed. How cool would it be to have so much confidence?
Luigi hurried over with our plates, the piccata sauce all lemony and buttery, and we both dug in. For a couple minutes, we didn’t say anything. The food was that good.
Sean made a few ecstatic noises over the food that had my cock kind of springy, but he patted his lips with his napkin. “So, here’s what I’m thinking. If I accept the Madison offer, I’ll be here and have an income. If we pool our money and share a living space, it could likely get us both through school.” He looked at me like he was discussing the weather forecast.
The only weather I knew about was the wind I just sucked at what he’d said. About fifty ideas exploded in my brain. What did pool our money mean exactly? And did he mean live together as roommates? Just to share expenses? Or live together as—boyfriends? Whoa. That got a slam from the heart. And did he mean next year? Or for the next four years? Or—holy shit? Forever?
The number of questions were making me dizzy. This must be what people meant when they said relationships were complicated. I’d had dates and blow jobs and even an occasional sort-of girlfriend, but I’d never had anything that could be called a relationship, so I’d never had to try to figure out what the person I cared about meant without asking. I mean, I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but I also ought to know what I wanted before I answered. Shouldn’t I?
I looked up, and Sean was staring at me with that crease. I guess I hadn’t said anything for quite a few seconds. Time to think would be good, but for now, “That sounds amazing.”
His lips turned up, but his eyes were still questioning. I probably should have been more blown away. It was hard to explain that the reason I wasn’t answering was because I was too blown away. “Uh, was that what you wanted to tell me about? Your scholarships?”
“What?” He finished chewing and then swallowed. “Oh, no. This weekend is my father’s birthday, and we’re both invited to Chicago to celebrate with my parents. They’re sending the tickets.”
He went back to eating as my head exploded.
Chapter Seventeen
Sean
My parents arranged two tickets for us on the Amtrak train Friday night. It was only a four-hour trip, and I preferred it to flying. I usually worked on the train, and the return on Sundays during daylight hours included pleasant scenery. This particular trip home was new and exciting because I was taking Bubba home with me. This was the first time I’d ever taken a love interest home. Of course, it was the first time I’d ever had a love interest, but it was nonetheless a milestone. I was very pleased with myself for having such a big handsome man on my arm. I felt very adult and well-rounded, as an individual who was getting a degree but also having sex.
There was a little niggle inside my brain that warned me my parents might not be as impressed with Bubba as I was, but I was determined to remain optimistic.
Bubba was apprehensive about meeting my parents, but he was excited to see Chicago and happy to go away with me for the weekend. His good humor was contagious, and we cuddled most of the way on the train, watching the lights of towns we passed outside the window.
I couldn’t remember ever being so happy or feeling so complete and satisfied with my life.
My parents picked us up at the Amtrak station in the Lexus, but we didn’t exchange more than polite formalities and idle chitchat until we arrived home. How was our trip? How was I feeling? The usual parental questions.
Our family home was in Lake Forest. My parents had bought the house—a Tudor-styled four-bedroom home built in the ‘50s—when I was still in grade school. It wasn’t a mansion, but it was a classic home in a very nice neighborhood and was likely worth several million by now.
It was ten thirty in the evening by the time we got there. Bubba’s eyes were wide as he handed my dad his coat. He was wearing his black sweater underneath, I presumed in an effort to impress, but in this setting, he looked extremely…large. He held his hands awkwardly in front of him, glancing around the house. My parents weren’t super fancy, so the interior had lots of plaids in red and blue and brown with heavy furniture. I wondered what impression it made on Bubba. It was hard to see it objectively, though I supposed it was a bit Fox and Hound.
My parents both looked at Bubba and his muscles, and then at each other. My dad frowned.
“Happy birthday, Mr. McKinney,” Bubba said abruptly as if remembering his manners. “Thank you for inviting me to come home with Sean.”
My dad’s smile was tight. “Well naturally, we want to meet anyone Sean is…is considering dating.”
“Is dating,” I corrected firmly. “And happy birthday, Dad.”
“Why don’t we adjourn to the kitchen and have a beverage?” my mom suggested. “You boys are probably tired, but perhaps you’d like to unwind before heading to bed.”
“We have the guest room prepared for you, Bubba.” My dad’s tone was jovial, but I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Thank you, sir,” Bubba said.
I wanted to argue Bubba could stay in my room, but I decided to pick my battles. Besides, it was unlikely I’d actually be comfortable enough to have sex with my parents in the house, and perhaps separate accommodations would be less awkward all the way around.
With my mom’s shooing, we all ended up sitting around the kitchen island with a mug of hot tea. Bubba had waited to see what we were having before he said he’d have the same. He seemed stiff and uncomfortable to me, his typical good humor wilted, but I supposed that was only natural. Hopefully by tomorrow, this wouldn’t feel like walking on ice.
“How’s work, Mom?” I asked as soon as we had our mugs in hand, hoping to steer the conversation.
“Quite good!” Her eyes lit up. “My latest article came out in Cell. Finally. It’s about the differences in genetic codes of various lymphomas, and—”