Page 74 of Muscle Cub

I could see Dad’s brain buffering as he tried to imagine what other ways one might be in a fraternity, but he abandoned the thought process and challenged Austin to a match.

Forced to abandon her seat so Dad and Austin could relocate to the corner of the table, Mom rolled her eyes.

Who physically wrestles with his gay son’s boyfriend the first time they meet? Not that Austin was officially my boyfriend, but Dad didn’t know that.

Their impromptu competition attracted a group of spectators and escalated from two-out-of-three to three-out-of-five. Austin made Dad work for it before letting him win. I assumed. Dad was in his late sixties, and Austin had discreetly winked at me while loudly lamenting the loss. I was grateful. I’d stopped indulging him in this sport by the age of twelve. A little red in the face, Dad grinned from ear to ear.

While I helped Veronica clean up, I overheard Charles holding court at a table in the corner, blathering on about his approach to managing teams of intellectuals. I’d never heard so much humblebragging in my life.

Maybe I’d missed it, but I hadn’t witnessed him saying two words to anyone in my family, including Sadie.

Austin, on the other hand, had infiltrated the young people’s table and was fiercely whispering with my niece and her friends. I sidled over under the pretext of presenting Sadie with her birthday money, and they all went quiet. Sadie thanked me and gave me a hug, but since I’d clearly killed the vibe, I made an excuse to go inside.

Austin came with me. I asked him what they’d been talking about.

He rolled his eyes. “Who we have crushes on. Duh.”

“Oh really?” I wanted to ask if he’d talked about me, but I repressed the juvenile impulse. “Is Sadie dating?” If she was, Veronica didn’t know, or she would have told me.

“I’m not telling you. I can’t betray my girl like that!”

When we entered the house through the sliding glass door, we almost stumbled over a half dozen of the younger kids sprawled across the floor and the sofa of the sitting room area of the open-concept kitchen and dining room, watching David and another boy playing a video game.

Austin stopped and leaned toward the TV with his hands on the back of the sofa. “I love this one,” he breathed reverently with the same glazed expression as the kids.

On-screen, sword-wielding gladiators in loincloths and sandals clashed against a backdrop of the Coliseum, their musclebound bodies rendered in graphic detail. It was a dissertation on homoeroticism and body dysmorphia waiting to happen.

“I can see why,” I muttered too low for anyone else to hear me. “Did you want me to show you where the bathroom is?” I was hoping he’d take the hint so we could steal a few moments alone.

My suggestion broke his trance, and he grinned. “Yeah, sure. Lead the way.”

At that moment, David’s opponent apparently won because several kids started yelling and the winner stood on the sofa in a victorious pose.

A woman who was helping Veronica in the kitchen snapped, “Oliver! Get down!”

“You guys,” Veronica said wearily. “You’re being too rowdy. David, we talked about this. This is an outdoor event.”

The other mom pointed. “Oliver. Addison. Outside. Now.”

“One more game?” David whined.

“No.” Veronica pointed at me and Austin. “Our guests can’t even walk through here. If you wanna yell, go… sing with your dad.”

David looked revolted.

“You guys wanna do some real gladiator training?” Austin asked.

David sneered. “That’s not a real thing.”

“David!” Veronica said. “Don’t be rude.”

Austin crossed his arms. “Uh, yeah, it is. I teach it. Professionally.”

David narrowed his eyes at Austin, a spark of interest warring with skepticism. David glanced at me as if for confirmation.

I nodded gravely. “He does. I went to one of his classes a few nights ago. It was brutal. Kinda dangerous too.”

Nothing appealed to David more than a warning that someone could get hurt. Sold. He was off the sofa and out the door in seconds, and the others raced to join him.