“What’s so funny?” Diane asked.
“Nothing, unless you’d seen Robin ski. He’s really good, but then again he should be. I think he’s been doing it since he was a kid.”
“And he asked you to teach him to ski?” Kate asked.
“Yeah, but—”
Kris laughed triumphantly. “See? I was right.”
Diane glared at him. “You? Hush.” She turned to Dean. “You? Talk.”
Dean told them everything, from meeting Robin, to him turning up at the house Thursday evening, the so-called skiing lesson, the conversation after, and lunch the previous day. When he was done, Diane glanced at Kris. “So what’s he like?” She gave him a mock glare. “Apart from his eyes. I think we already know about them.”
Kris grinned. “Hot. Put it this way. I wouldn’t kick him out of bed for eating crackers.”
Dean glared at him this time. “And you’ve obviously made up your mind that he’s gay, or maybe bi.”
Kris gave him a superior look. “Trust me, honey. He’s gay. You may not have seen the way he was looking at you, but I sure did.” He grinned. “He looked like he wanted to lick you from head to toe.”
“Ooh.” Suze grinned. “Kinky. I wish a guy would look at me like that. I could do with a good… licking.”
Kris cackled.
“How old is he?” Diane asked.
Before Dean could reply, Kris leaped in. “About twelve, judging by the look of him.”
“He’s eighteen!” Dean protested.
Kris arched his eyebrows. “How lucky for you.”
Suze chuckled. “He always did have a baby face. Gorgeous kid.”
Kate gave a satisfied nod. “And if this kid turns up again with another manufactured reason for being here? What will you do?”
“Apart from taking him to bed and fucking his brains out,” Kris murmured.
Dean gaped at them. “Did you all miss the part where I said he was a student?”
Suze shook her head. “Was a student, Dean. We got that part. And the part about you never actually teaching him.”
Kris nodded vigorously. “You know what all that adds up to?” He counted off on his fingers. “He’s legal. He’s freaking adorable. He’s obviously eager.” He stared at Dean. “What are you waiting for—a signed invitation?”
“Now hold on a minute,” Diane interjected. “I think we’re all missing something here. So what if this Robin—is that his name?—is cute, hot, whatever. What do you think about him, Dean?”
Dean took a long drink from his glass. “I think… it’s time to change the subject.” He narrowed his gaze. “I mean it.” He did not want to discuss this with them. He was having a big enough challenge contemplating the idea that Robin wanted him. Okay, if it were true, the impromptu visit and subsequent request made sense—kind of—but Dean wasn’t convinced Kris wasn’t seeing things.
And if he was going to discuss this with anyone, it would be Robin.
Chapter Seven
Dean walked with his guests toward the front door. “Are we back to normal now? Because that means we won’t be meeting up until just before Christmas.” And by then the house would appear extremely festive, although not by Suze’s standards. Her idea of Christmas decorations was to turn her condo into a fairy grotto.
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Kris grinned. “We may have to meet up before then, if only so we can get an update on what’s happening with your boy toy.”
“My—” Dean groaned. “Oh my God, that’s even worse than fag hag. Please, don’t.”
“Oh, come on,” Suze remonstrated. “You didn’t expect us to say nothing, did you?” She gave him an evil grin.
“Did you think you’d gotten away with it?” Kate demanded, looking equally gleeful.
“What I think is, not one of you has entertained the possibility that it could all be entirely innocent.” Dean glared at them. “Didn’t it occur to you that maybe Robin needs someone to talk to, someone he can relate to? Maybe what he really needs is a mentor.”
They all stood still for a moment, before Kris laughed his head off. “Nah, what he really needs is a good fucking.”
“Hey, if I’m old enough to be called a cougar, then you can have a boy toy,” Diane said with a grin.
Dean was sure his eyebrows had disappeared into his hairline. “You’re not—”
“No, I’m not—but I could be if I wanted to.” Her eyes twinkled. She shook her head. “Mentor. I’m pretty certain that’s a euphemism for something.”
Kris nodded. “The older man, teaching the younger man the ways of—”
“Oh my God,” Dean interjected. “I’ve become a cliché.” When his friends laughed, he pointed to the front door. “Out. All of you.” It would have come out better if he hadn’t been trying so hard not to laugh.
Suze pouted. “But you still haven’t told us what you think about Robin.” Her eyes gleamed. “Anyone would think you were hiding something.”
Dean groaned. “Okay, okay. He’s gorgeous, all right? He’s got a sexy-as-fuck body, and no, don’t ask me what I want to do to him, because I won’t tell you.”
“But you do want him,” Diane declared.
Dean gave up. “Yes, of course I want him. I’d be insane not to. And if I thought he’d be remotely interested in a guy my age, I’d pursue that idea, but it’s not gonna happen. Now out.”
“Say hi to Robin for us,” Kris sang as he walked away from the house. “Have fun when you see him next.”
“And tell us all about it,” Kate added.
“Not listening,” Dean yelled as they reached the end of the path. He watched them as they got into their cars and drove away, then closed the door and locked it. He should have known they’d tease him about the age gap.
But am I going to do anything about it?
For all his confession that he was attracted to Robin, Dean knew he wouldn’t make a move on him. Not unless it became obvious Robin wanted that. But there was still the mystery of why Robin had lied about not being able to ski.
Were his friends correct? Was it all part of some ploy because Robin had a crush on him?
There was only one way to find out—talk to Robin.
Robin went into the bathroom to get a glass of water. As he approached his bedroom the sounds from the TV died. Then he caught his name, and strained to listen.
“There must be someone he knows from school. Maybe a boy he hasn’t even considered.” That was his dad. “He can’t be the only gay kid in Lake Placid.”
“Maybe he’s picky,” Mom suggested.
Dad chuckled. “Yeah. Like his mom.”
“Hey!”
Robin had heard enough. He crept into his room and closed the door as silently as possible. He got into bed and lay back against the pillows, his mind turning over his parents’ conversation. He didn’t mind them discussing him like that—he’d figured they would—but what struck him most was his dad’s choice of words.