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Andy Jefferson was rich, timid, and shy as fuck.
He was also Preston’s mirror image, except for black in place of red hair. And, like me, he wasn’t shopping for a man of his own. He’d hinted that his dates were only ever interested in the fame and fortune that would come from being hooked to one of Boston’s most eligible bachelors.
With me, Andy knew he would get good dick without the drama.
I cleaned him up and was out the hotel door an hour later, having allowed myself a few extra minutes of cuddling since Andy enjoyed the fuck out of being the little spoon as much as I did the bigger.
I’d lost track of how often I’d wished it was Preston pressed all up against me, sighing in my arms as my soft dick snuggled against his ass crack, sated and warm.
Rubbing a hand over my chest, I hit the start button on my key fob. My Mercedes’s engine purred to life, but the sweet sound was cut through by my cell phone blaring Aerosmith’s Dream On. Dad and I had gotten to see them three times down at the Garden and once in New York after we’d moved there. That had been Preston’s first rock concert way back when, and he’d become a fan too.
That was the one thing the three of us had bonded over, since Jacqueline hadn’t allowed for much else with how much she clung to Dad like she couldn’t live without him.
Preston and I had been left to our own devices more often than not, but I’d never complained. Every minute with him had been perfect, even if I hadn’t been able to touch him in the ways I’d wanted.
“Dad, what’s up?” I answered while pulling out of the parking garage, my brow furrowed over his late call.
“Hey, little buddy.”
I shook my head while grinning. I now stood taller than Dad, but he still refused to give me a different nickname.
“Jacqueline asked me to reach out to you about next weekend,” he continued.
Valentine’s Day was meant for lovers, so I had no fucking clue why he’d be calling me.
“What about it?” I asked, merging onto State Street.
“She requested your presence for dinner Friday night. It’s been a while since you’ve been down for a visit, so we won’t accept any excuses this time.”
“I have to work, Dad,” I told the truth even though he wasn’t exactly aware of how I made my money. I’d finally admitted about my being gay, which he’d suggested I not share with his wife, considering her continued trans and homophobic stance. But in true Dad fashion, he’d accepted me for who I was, no questions asked. Part of me felt bad for making him keep a secret from Jacqueline, but it was for the best, he’d said.
That didn’t mean he needed to hear about me being one of Elite Escorts gay branch’s highest paid sex workers though. As far as he knew, I put my MBA to good use in my best friend, Sean Fox’s family business—which was kind of true, just not the type of communications Dad figured I’d meant.
“You’re going to have to get someone to cover you this time, Drake. It’s important,” Dad insisted.
“Important?” I asked, wariness creeping over my skin like a tendril of frigid air.
“Jacqueline hasn’t shared details with me just yet, but she promised the news will be life-changing.”
I needed more before I would ever agree to stand in her, let alone Preston’s, presence again. Fuck knew it’d been hard—I’d been hard—last time I’d torn out my own heart when I’d walked away rather than offering him comfort.
I’d broken my promise to him and could only imagine how badly he hated me because of it.
“Life-changing…in what way?” I asked.
“Hugely,” Dad said.
“Dad.”
“Drake,” he countered, his voice snipped short like mine.
I huffed at his unwavering tone. He wouldn’t bend or give me anything more even if he had it. Probably Jacqueline’s doing. She’d taught him a thing or ten about being manipulative to get what she wanted. “Fine. Your place in Tribeca?”
“Well, no,” Dad said, a little hesitant. “We’re staying at The Bloomberg on Fifth Avenue Friday night. We’ll meet you for dinner at the lower level’s restaurant at seven.”
Jacqueline had sold off the penthouse after Preston had graduated and escaped her for Harvard, but I’d only visited the luxurious place they’d bought in Tribeca twice, the second on a day that Dad’s wife had been out of town for a meeting.
I’d had Dad all to myself, and it’d been like old times. Smartly, I’d left before she’d arrived home.
