Sometimes, Gavin struggled to make the boy he’d been match with the man he’d become. It was like he’d changed bodies somewhere along the line, but he couldn’t recall when or how.
Yesterday was the first time she mentioned the dinner they’d discussed, texting to see if he would like to get together tonight, claiming that she had a Christmas gift for him. Gavin had been tempted to push her off, to say he was too busy, but he couldn’t keep hanging out in this limbo land in terms of his mother.
He’d turned a corner when he’d embraced his place in a relationship with Erin and Oliver, and now it was time to turn another.
Gavin had dropped by Lauren and Chad’s office at lunchtime today. He hadn’t told any of his foster parents that he’d been in contact with his mom, and given Lauren and Chad’s surprise when he told them about his dinner plans for tonight, it was clear Oliver hadn’t either.
Not that Gavin would have expected anything different from Oliver. The main reason Oliver had managed to break through his walls was because his foster brother had proven time and time again that he would never betray a confidence, never break a trust.
A few nights after he’d seen Gavin’s scars for the first time, Oliver had come into his bedroom and shut the door. Gavin, still not finished fighting, had told him to get the fuck out. Oliver had refused, then he’d made him a vow, promising he’d never tell anyone—their parents included—about the scars. He’d said, “Your stories are yours to tell.”
And Oliver had never broken that promise, even when Gavin had hidden how bad the scars were from everyone else. Even when he’d allowed Erin to believe his mother was dead, and now…when his mother had returned to his life.
Lauren and Chad had listened to his concerns and helped him try to put some of his thoughts into perspective. Then they’d done what they’d always done. Told him they’d support him no matter what. Told him they loved him and they were proud of him. Lauren had even called him courageous.
As he looked at his reflection once more, brave was the last thing he felt, and for the millionth time since he’d agreed to this meal, he was tempted to text his mother and cancel.
“Did you fall in?” Oliver called out through the closed bathroom door.
Gavin chuckled even as he took a deep, steadying breath, then stiffened his spine. He didn’t doubt for a second he would have already canceled if Oliver and Erin hadn’t agreed to go with him.
He opened the door and smiled. His foster brother—no, boyfriend; Gavin decided he liked the sound of that better—had taken some pains with his appearance as well, and he appreciated that Oliver had made an effort despite his anger toward his mom. Oliver, like him, was wearing new jeans, but he’d thrown on a navy-blue sweater instead of a shirt.
Gavin reached out and cupped the back of Oliver’s neck, pulling him close for a kiss. He’d meant to keep it quick, platonic even, but that was blown out of the water when Oliver gripped Gavin’s belt loops and pulled their crotches together, while opening his mouth to add some tongue action to the kiss.
They parted at the sound of Erin’s wolf whistle.
Glancing down the hallway, Gavin felt a bit like whistling himself. Erin spent the majority of her life in either scrubs or yoga pants and T-shirts, so it was rare when they got to see her all dressed up. She’d paired a black sheath with a deep red cashmere cardigan and heels. Her usual ponytail was gone, and the dark hair that betrayed the Italian part of her heritage hung long and loose over her shoulders. She’d put on eyeshadow—something she never wore—and thicker mascara, making her gorgeous brown eyes look even bigger, brighter, more beautiful.
“Jesus,” Gavin muttered. Oliver’s kiss had gotten him half hard, and now Erin had finished the job. He tried to adjust his suddenly tight jeans to stop them from cutting into his too-erect cock.
“Damn, sweet girl,” Oliver said. “How the hell are we supposed to sit next to you in a restaurant and keep our hands to ourselves with you looking like that?”
Erin flushed slightly at their responses. Gavin got a sense she sometimes struggled to accept their compliments as true. Crazy woman seemed to think she was fat, something that drove him nuts. She was curvy in all the right places.
“I don’t mind canceling,” Gavin said, drawing their attention to his erection.
Oliver punched his upper arm and shook his head. “Nope. We’re not letting you back out, so you might as well give your dick the old ‘down boy’ command right now.”
Gavin grimaced. “Easier said than done.”
Oliver laughed and pointed to his own crotch. “Tell me about it.”
Erin rolled her eyes as she passed between them, continuing down the hallway to the front door. “If we canceled everything on our social calendars based on your hard-ons, we’d never leave the apartment. Let’s get this over with so we can come back here and you two can go down on me. I look fucking hot, and I don’t want to waste it.”
Gavin reached for Erin’s coat, helping her put it on, while Oliver, the devil, lifted her skirt slightly and ran his hand over her slit.
“Panties are already damp,” Oliver mused aloud.
“Fine,” Erin hissed, his light touch obviously making an impact. “It’s not just your dicks that would be responsible for our lack of a social life.”
Gavin placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Which is why you’re perfect for us.”
They hadn’t come out to anyone yet about their changed relationship status. Not because they were keeping it a secret, as much as Erin hadn’t been lying about their inability to leave the house. Apart from going to work, the three of them were always in too much of a mad dash to hop back into bed together to do much else. Of course, it didn’t help that the pub, the place where they’d always hung out the most, was gone. Gavin figured the last few weeks were the longest he’d gone without seeing the countless Collins cousins, aunts and uncles, as well as Pop Pop. He was glad it was almost Christmas so he could reconnect with everyone—particularly Padraig, whom he’d only seen once since the fire.
“Ready?” Erin said, giving him a sweet, comforting smile. Gavin knew she was worried about him and he appreciated her concern.
He nodded. “Yeah.” He put on his own jacket, then patted the pocket to make sure the wrapped gift Erin had helped him pick out earlier in the day was there. When his mother had mentioned having a gift for him, he’d sort of felt like he needed to reciprocate. Erin had suggested earrings, then helped him decide on a pair of silver hoops.
The three of them piled into Oliver’s pickup truck and they drove to the restaurant. They’d picked a quiet place off the beaten track. It wasn’t super fancy, but in Gavin’s opinion, they served up some of the best crab cakes in the city.
His mother was already sitting at the table when they arrived, and he tried to swallow down his nervousness and anger when he saw the glass of wine in front of her. They hadn’t progressed beyond general niceties, and he hadn’t felt comfortable asking about her recovery. It occurred to him—belatedly—he should have had that conversation before they went out together in public.
“Gavin,” she said, smiling as they approached the table. Unlike him, she didn’t seem to be suffering from anxiety, and he wondered about that. She’d been genuinely nervous at their first meeting, but there was none of that in her now.