“Bobby,” their mother warns. She gives Mr. Fordham a distrustful
glance, as if Wesley is no more than twelve and the man he’s with
is a perv for feeling up such a young boy in public. Suddenly the
bathroom seems too close for her, but when she looks around she
realizes it’s as far away fromthemas she can get without leaving the waiting room
completely, so she settles for reeling her children in to her
instead. “Come here. Brenna, stop it. I said come
here.”
Wesley ignores this—he only sees
his companion, and his eyes dance like faceted jewels when he looks
at the man beside him. Jason wonders if there’s anything he can
say, anything at all, to make those eyes turn his way without
hardening. “When was what?” Wesley asks coyly.
Mr. Fordham
meets that laughing gaze with an amused look on his face.Wesley wants you to say it, Jason thinks.The bastard. He
wants you to ask him when’s the last time you two had sex so he can
rub it in.Never mind the fact he and