Boyfriend Chronicles 02 - The Boyfriend Mandate (10 page)

But no one more than Memphis.

The memory hit so hard Tyler had to lean back against the couch. He remembered the exact moment he’d naively decided they could pull off forever…

~~~***~~~

Ten Years Ago, Meadowville, California

“Are you sure about this?” Tyler twisted in the passenger seat to study Memphis, dread forming a lump in his stomach. “Because I’m getting a bad feeling about the plan.”

“Relax,” he replied, hands steady on the wheel of his Blazer. “We’ll be fine.”

How could his boyfriend sound so calm?

“I still think you should come out to your parents when I’m not around,” Tyler said.

Preferably when he was in another state. Or better yet, on another continent.

Memphis sent him a wicked grin. “I can’t spend five minutes with you in the same room and keep my smutty thoughts from showing on my face. Trust me,” he went on, “when we agreed to go for a visit, my coming-out plans were a done deal.”

Crap
. The thought of meeting Memphis’s family, much less spending the whole weekend in their company, was screwing with his mind.

Tyler ran his fingers through his hair. “Your parents would probably prefer to hear the news without an audience.” He lifted a brow dryly. “Especially an audience that includes the man their son is
fucking
.”

Okay, so maybe not in every sense of the crude term, but close enough.

Memphis reached over and laid a hand on Tyler’s thigh. The warmth in his gaze and the stroke of his thumb were soothing.

“Ty,” he said. “My parents are great. I’m the youngest of five kids, and I don’t think anything fazes them anymore.”

“Yes, but none of their children have declared they’re gay…or bisexual.”

They’d never discussed which Memphis was. Maybe because the guy hadn’t decided.

Tyler turned to stare out the window, his muscles tense. The rolling hills of wine country sped by. The scene should have been peaceful, but he wouldn’t feel a bit of peace until this weekend was over.

“For some people, an alternative lifestyle as a concept is fine,” Tyler went on, pretending to enjoy the view. “Until it affects their lives directly.”

Memphis gave Tyler’s thigh a gentle squeeze and then took his hand, linking their fingers together.

“Your parents will eventually come around,” Memphis said in a low voice.

Tyler looked into his boyfriend’s amazing hazel eyes and, as always, felt a catch in his chest. The man made him happier than he’d thought possible. He also had the unique ability to keep him calm, no matter what. But when Tyler had come out to his family, he’d insisted on going alone.

A most excellent decision, because their reaction had been worse than he’d predicted. Being disowned hurt like hell. After the blowup, he’d walked out of the home he’d lived in since he was four years old, swearing he’d never go back. But Memphis had been waiting for him at their apartment, helping him to cope.

Just like he had when his biological mother had died.

Tyler forced back the ache in his chest. Seven months later and the sadness still cut as deep. Somehow, when she’d told him her prognosis, he hadn’t believed she’d really die. Not after years of wondering, not after years of patiently waiting to reach an age where he wasn’t required to have a legal guardian’s consent to sign up on the adoption registry. According to his adoptive mom, his older brother had been a surprise pregnancy. Tyler had been the child his adoptive parents had planned.

Planned
.

They’d always said the word like it made him special. And, oh, my God, as a kid, he’d bought the line like a trusting idiot. His parents had told him everything they’d learned about the birth mother he had so few memories of, how she’d finally given Tyler up so he could have a better life.

He’d been okay with the information until he’d become a teen, because what the hell did a “better life” even mean?

Better than
what
?

Sure, his biological mother had made some serious mistakes. But when he’d finally found her and confessed that he was gay,
she
hadn’t rejected him.

Tyler forced the thoughts aside and squeezed Memphis’s hand, concentrating on the here and now. He might have lost a lot in the last seven months—essentially every family member he had—but he’d gained something irreplaceable in return.

Memphis
.

“I shouldn’t have talked you into coming out to your family.” Guilt washed over his boyfriend’s face. “You told me what would happen, and I didn’t believe they’d…”

“Act like assholes?”

Memphis let out a snort. “Exactly,” he said. His forehead crinkled in curiosity. “Have you tried calling them again?”

Christ, he didn’t want to talk about his family. “What’s the use?”

“I told you, Ty,” he said. “You can’t give up. You have to keep trying.”

Tyler sent his boyfriend a small grin, hoping to change the subject. The topic made the guy feel guilty and Tyler feel like shit—a lose-lose scenario that served no purpose.

“I have you.” He squeezed Memphis’s hand. “I don’t need anyone else.”

Memphis sighed and sent him a smile tinged with sadness, pulling Tyler’s hand to his mouth and kissing the knuckles before resting their linked fingers in his lap. They fell into silence, and Tyler watched the hills speed by, content to enjoy the moment. A half hour later, they pulled into a long drive that wound through some trees until the scenery opened up.

Spread before them was a large lawn and a Victorian-style home complete with a wraparound porch.

“Holy shit,” Tyler murmured, his stomach taking a large bite of his liver. He stared at the size of the home and the ten cars parked in the driveway. “How many people are here?”

Memphis parked his vehicle between a truck and MINI Cooper, giving a shrug. “Hard to say. All of my brothers and sisters have friends who are now considered family. Several of them have lived here over the years.” He let out a small chuckle as they exited his Blazer. “Some have even called my parents to bail them out of jail.”

Tyler pulled his bag from the SUV and stared up at the house, feeling like he was about to be split open for all to see. “Will I earn points for never having been locked up?”

Memphis pulled his duffel bag out of the back seat and shut the door. “You’re going to earn points because you’re my boyfriend.” He sent him a lopsided grin and threw his arm around Tyler’s shoulders, steering him up the front walk. “Besides, you have a terrible poker face when it comes to me. They’re going to see the adoration in your expression and realize that you are totally gone on me.”

Tyler snorted, not bothering to disagree.

As they made their way up the wide staircase to the front door, each step felt harder than the one before. Memphis dropped his arm from Tyler’s shoulders. A part of him was relieved, because he thought it was wrong to use the in-your-face approach of flaunting their relationship as they entered the house. But a smaller part needed the reassurance of Memphis close by. The way his boyfriend glanced at the door made it clear he had some reservations about the upcoming meeting as well. The guy was also doing his damnedest to keep his nervousness from showing.

Probably all for Tyler’s sake.

Before they’d reached the top step, someone pulled open the front door, and all of Tyler’s insides became fair game for his stomach.

A woman in her late forties with blond hair and Memphis’s hazel eyes pushed open the screen door and immediately pulled Memphis in for a hug. “It’s about goddamn time you came home for a visit.”

Memphis engulfed the petite woman in his arms. “I’ve been busy, Mom.”

Her hands gripped the back of his shirt. “How do you feel? Have you been taking care of yourself? Don’t forget you have a follow-up with Dr. Freeman next month. And I want―”

“I’m fine.” Memphis pulled out of her arms and stepped back, an odd expression on his face. He nodded at Tyler. “Mom, this is my roommate.”

Over his mother’s head, Memphis shot him a reassuring wink.

Tyler awkwardly shifted the strap of his bag higher on his shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Mrs.―”

Memphis’s mother pulled him into a crushing hug that almost hurt his ribs, cutting off his words with an
oof
.

“Everyone around here calls me either mom or Anita,” she said. She released him and gave his cheek a pat. “At least that’s what they call me to my face.”

“The Drill Sergeant on a good day,” Memphis said, eyes crinkled in amusement as he shared the nickname. “The Bitch from Hell on a bad one.”

Anita Haines let out an unimpressed huff and led them inside to a hallway. “Ricky!” she called down the hall, and a teenager’s head appeared from around a doorway. “Take their bags down to Memphis’s room in the basement,” she said. She turned back to the two of them. “Set your stuff down here. Everybody else is out back. Come meet my husband, Tyler. He’s hiding out in the kitchen.”

As they followed her down the hallway, Memphis leaned in and whispered, “Now would be a good time.”

“Now?” Tyler hissed, his insides twisting.

God, why had he agreed to come? He knew he had an embarrassingly wide-eyed look about him.

“Why not?” his boyfriend said, his voice low. “It will make things easier.”

Tyler suffered a flashback to the day he’d come out to his family. His mother had cried as if he’d died and his father had yelled and his brother had called him disgusting. None of them had considered “easier” a word that pertained to the situation.

When they entered the kitchen, Memphis introduced his father. Brett Haines had salt-and-pepper hair, and his build reflected his age, but it was easy to see where Memphis had gotten his athletic grace. He paused in his task of slicing the turkey to give his son a one-armed hug and shake Tyler’s hand.

“Do you have any food preferences, Tyler?” Anita asked.

“No, ma’am.”

Memphis grinned. “Anything with bacon and dipped in grease will do. But I’m chipping away at his resistance. He finally took to the spinach smoothies like an addict to crack.”

“Me and my youngest daughter are vegetarians,” Anita said to Tyler, stirring a pot of gravy on the stove. “Marie, my oldest daughter, is pescetarian. My two boys, David and Wayne, won’t sit down to a meal unless there are at least two servings of pork or beef. And Memphis here is dedicated to organic and hater of all things related to red meat. All of which,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “makes holiday meals a pain in the ass.”

She met Tyler’s gaze with a smile, and he couldn’t help but return with one of his own. Memphis might have inherited his build from his father, but his easy, open personality was all his mother.

“It’s nice to finally meet my son’s roommate. So tell me, Tyler,” Anita said. “Is Memphis partying too much? Drinking too much? Flitting from one girlfriend to the next?”

Tyler chewed on his lower lip, trying to determine how best to answer, while Memphis grimaced and opened his mouth as if to protest his mother’s words.

Anita pointed the wooden spoon at her son. “No interruptions.”

Memphis closed his mouth. Brett Haines continued with his task, but something about the way he focused on the turkey hinted that he was familiar with this argument. If Tyler was reading him right, the man seemed braced for a confrontation.

Christ.

Tyler cleared his throat. “No, ma’am. He’s not partying too much.” Despite everything, his lips twisted wryly. “And he isn’t drinking that much.” He shot his boyfriend a look. “He says alcohol doesn’t jibe with his goals of getting drafted to a pro soccer team.”

Anita’s eyebrows shot higher. “I thought that was just something he told his parents to get them to quit nagging.” A trace of concern entered her gaze. “Is he getting enough rest, or is he too busy enjoying company of a female variety?”

Memphis shifted on his feet, his face set. “Mom, you need to quit worrying.”

Tyler listened to the conversation that only involved him peripherally, even though Anita Haines had addressed every question to Tyler.

“Quit worrying? That will never happen,” Anita said, turning to the refrigerator. “And I’m just asking your roommate a few simple questions.”

“Actually, Mom”—Memphis crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter, and the expression on his face left Tyler braced for the worst—“he’s more than just my roommate. He’s my boyfriend.”

Fuck.

The knife slipped from Brett Haines’s fingers and clattered to the tile floor, his gaze landing on his son. If Tyler had felt wide-eyed before, he had nothing on Memphis’s dad. Anita had paused, hand on the refrigerator door.

Tyler briefly closed his eyes and wished he had something to do with his hands. Pockets would have been good, because his fingers were shaking. He gripped the counter behind him and watched Anita as she seemed to recover, slowly pulling out a bowl of salad.

Finally, she closed the refrigerator door and faced her son. “I figured as much.”

I figured as much
?

Tyler’s heart, amazingly, continued to pound in his chest. He’d lived the first six months with Memphis completely clueless his roommate had any tendency toward liking men, and his mother had known?

“You did?” Brett Haines finally recovered from his apoplectic look, although his hand still hovered over the turkey he was carving up. The knife lay on the kitchen floor, ignored. “And just when were you going to share your suspicions with me?”

Anita waved his concerns away with her hand. “The news wasn’t mine to share, Brett.”

Memphis studied his dad, and, for the first time, Tyler could see the tension around his boyfriend’s eyes. For all his confidence, Memphis was clearly worried about his father’s opinion.

The older man rubbed his hands down his apron.

Memphis turned his attention to his mother. “I’ve never said anything before,” he said. “Never given any indication of my interest in Tyler. At least, not that I know of. What gave me away?”

“You’ve talked about Tyler since you first moved in together.” Anita set the salad on the center island. “But a few months ago, whenever you mentioned his name, I heard a change in your voice.” She turned to her husband. “Are you done carving the meat?”