Page 165 of Pretty ’n Peak

But not never, Austin noted, feeling quite pleased.

This was definitely a topic they’d be returning to.

27

Mateo

Mateo placed his hand on the door to the gallery. He was getting used to the peculiar move of opening doors for Daddy and walking in together.

Though they were holding hands now, rather than the barely-there elbow grip Daddy had employed when they first met. He loved how it felt, his heart still tripping over itself every time he remembered that he had a boyfriend. A real Daddy, all to himself.

A Daddy who wanted him to get piercings in naughty places and wear sparkly pink ones in his ears.

Somehow, that was the reassurance that he needed to get through what was coming next.

He drew in a deep breath and opened the door.

The gallery was simple, the white walls hung with tastefully spaced art that immediately caught his eye. Track lighting highlighted each piece, along with pedestals with smaller statues and ceramics. It would have looked austere, but the warm, golden wood of the floor and the bright, tinkling bell on the door made it feel welcoming, as well as elegant.

He couldn’t believe that his stuff might actually hang here.

The first piece in front of him was a bronze statue, the loving detailed bumps of a man’s spine curving over his bent back and the curve of his bent head. After that, it became more abstract, morphing into curving forms and jagged edges.

It was good. Thought-provoking. Seductive.

And definitely gay, painfully and beautifully, in some way that he couldn’t quite describe in words.

Behind it was a black and white photo of a heavyset white butch, arms crossed over her ample chest. She was staring into the camera with one raised eyebrow, like she could explain all of the secrets in the universe, if only she found you worthy of hearing them.

There was no way Mateo’s stuff was this good. His stuff was amateur. Folk art, Richard had called it in their phone call.

He kind of wondered if that meant that he liked bright colors and didn’t always get the proportions and perspectives right.

He still hadn’t decided if he wanted to do this. Both possibilities held so many possible regrets.

“Hey,” a voice called from the back. “Mateo?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “That’s me.”

That already sounded dumb.

Daddy squeezed his hand, like he was saying good luck, and then dropped it.

That’s what they’d agreed on—that Daddy would hang out for support, but not hover or be involved in the conversation. And he did feel supported.

Daddy was letting go, because he believed in him and wanted him to shine.

“Hey, nice to meet you.” Richard was a tall, slender black man, dressed in a fitted gray suit with a purple turtleneck.

Mateo suddenly wondered if he should have worn something nicer than his black button-down and dark jeans. If Richard could tell, just by looking, that he hadn’t gone to college and hadn’t even come out as gay to his parents.

But Richard’s eyes were kind and lively as he reached out for a shake.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Mateo found himself saying.

Richard’s hand was warm and dry, holding his firmly without trying to assert his strength. “And this is…?”

“Oh, this is my boyfriend.” Mateo almost stumbled over the word, even though he was thrilled to be able to say it out loud to someone. “Austin.”