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“What happened?” Bash was at level-ten intensity, eyes bugged, staring at Mac as he waited impatiently for him to answer.
I rubbed his back, hoping to soothe some of that intensity out of him before Mac broke down. He already looked so exhausted just from bringing it up. We had messaged our parents all at the same time the day after our proposal. If they wrote back right away, he’d been hanging onto this for way too long.
“I sent them the same message,” Mac began, and I pulled him close to Bash and me. “They told me to never message them again.”
“No big loss,” Bash muttered.
I hadn’t had the privilege of meeting Mr. and Mrs. Connor, but from what Bash had told me, and now this, I wasn’t counting it as a loss either.
“Because the three of us are engaged?”
He nodded. “They care about appearances and now their son is a bisexual hockey loser—”
“You’re not a loser.”
He smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I might as well be. I’m at the center of some media scandal that’s not even a big enough deal to make national news.”
I snorted, and Bash chuckled.
“I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“It’s true. Like we’re making waves and bringing disgrace to our families and it’s not even enough for clout chasers to glom onto.”
“Even so, they don’t want you to talk to them at all?” I asked.
“They’re pissed I cut them off. And they blame Bardot because they think he convinced me they were mooching off him.”
“I did. And they were.” Bash frowned and shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Michael.”
“It’s okay. If they can’t see how much I love you because they’re so caught up in their own victim mentality, I refuse to stoop to their level.”
“They’re the ones missing out.” I snuggled up to Mac and wrapped my arms around his middle. “Anyone would be lucky to know you.”
He kissed the top of my head and sighed. “Tell me more about your parents. Anything to take my mind off mine.”
I wiped my face and groaned. “Oh, God. Where to start?”
“They’re oddly close.” Bash smirked. “For a long time, we suspected our parents were swingers—”
“It would make sense,” Mac mused.
I shook my head. “Not after their reaction to the three of us.”
“Maybe that’s why they deny it.” Bash frowned and kicked a rock toward the water. “They probably are, but we’d never know.”
“My head cannon is that they are swingers, but they’re so ashamed of their midnight romps that they only do it at the lake house.”
I groaned and shoved Mac. “If you want to sleep with me ever again, don’t mention our parents doing it in any configuration.”
He smirked and pulled me into his arms. “Deal.”
“There you guys are,” Ava said, climbing the hardest path down to the lake. “We’re going to have game night if you want to join in.”
“Is your family competitive?” Mac asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
“The most competitive. None of them like to lose.”
“Excellent.”
