Page 31 of Played

“He’s gay, right?” Grampa asks matter-of-factly.

“Why does that matter?”

“Doesn’t.” He shrugs. “I just consider myself to have a well-tuned gaydar. I knew about my buddy Leonard’s son before he did.”

I roll my eyes. “How do you even know what a gaydar is, old man?”

He huffs a laugh. “I’m a man of the world, young pup.” He coughs, and I replace his mask again before we head for home.

After a few minutes, he pulls it aside and says, “So, am I right?”

My mind is still on Mason and work, and Mason at work, and how each time I see him, it takes all of my willpower not to touch him. “Right about what, Grampa?”

“About your boss being gay.”

“He’s not my boss,” I remind him.

He waves a hand dismissively. “But I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah, Grampa, you were right.”

He grins with triumph and beckons me closer. I crouch down, resting my hands on his knees. His green eyes are always so full of life even when his is fading. I wish there was more I could do for him. He rests his hands over mine, gnarled fingers gripping mine as tightly as his frail health allows. “From the day you were born, you have been the light of my life.”

Tears burn behind my eyes, and I don’t want to cry in the street, especially with Mason in the near vicinity. “You getting sentimental on me, old man?”

He squeezes a little harder, with all the strength of a small child. “You are a special boy, King. Never let anyone tell you differently. Never let anyone stop you from being who you are. You understand me?”

Do I understand? Is Grampa…? Does he know about me?

“Never pretend to be less than who you are to please anyone, my boy, especially not your parents. And never let them stop you from finding love.”

I press my forehead to his knuckles. Of course he knows. “How long have you known, Grampa?”

“Probably longer than you have.” He cackles, and it’s the perfect way to both preserve and break this tender moment. I’m not prone to displays of emotion in the middle of a crowded city street.

I look up at him and grin. “You think, huh?”

He taps his temple and winks. “Like I said, finely tuned.”

“You’re a lovable old goat, you know that?” I stand and drop a quick kiss on his forehead.

“Must be where you get all your charm from.”

If I have any charm, then I’m in full agreement with him. The idea of my grandfather having a well-tuned gaydar makes me smile in spite of the lingering awkwardness from my encounter with Mason. That he saw Grampa and me together isn’t ideal. I don’t ordinarily share my personal life with my colleagues, and for good reason. But somehow Mason meeting Grampa feels like it was meant to be. Like it was long overdue.

Chapter

Fifteen

MASON

Maddox is sitting in a booth when I get there. Two green shakes sit on the table, and I pull a disgusted face when I slide into the seat across from him.

He rolls his eyes. “You’re such a fucking neanderthal, Mase.”

I pull out the straw and let a blob of the green mulch fall from the bottom of it back into the glass. “No, but I’m also not a Buddhist monk like you. What the hell is this shit?” I pick out a piece of greenery. “Is that a fucking leaf?”

“It’s mint, dickface. You know, like you get in your mojitos?”