Page 56 of Dad Next Door
“Sounds like a trauma response.”
“Ding ding ding.” He pretended to ring an imaginary bell. “There I go again, hijacking the conversation when we were talking about you and how you’re feeling about everything.” He scrubbed his hand over his face and sighed heavily. “I really wish I could shut my brain up right now.”
“I’m fine.”
“Really?” He arched one eyebrow at me. “You’re fine?”
I nodded. “Yup. I’m gay, remember? Kissing men is kind of my thing. Kissing my best friend, who I thought was straight, at another friend’s wedding in front of my asshole ex is a new experience, but the endgame is the same.”
“I’m your best friend?” he asked, his voice small.
“You are. I don’t have a lot of people in my life, so I get it if I’m not yours?—”
“You are.” He huffed out a laugh. “I feel like a teenager again, but I didn’t want to say anything in case you weren’t there and it made things awkward between us.”
“So you kissed me instead?” I grinned. “That’s totally less awkward than calling me your bestie.”
“You’re the chillest person I’ve ever met.” Quinn smiled affectionately. “Even with your anxiety. You really do just roll with things unless they trigger your papa bear instincts.”
“That’s pretty much my vibe.” I undid the top button on my dress shirt. “Just a weirdo who prefers science over social constructs. But mess with my kid or family, and I will end you without a second thought.”
“You and my dad would get along.”
“I don’t know how to take that,” I said honestly.
He grinned. “It’s not a bad thing. My dad is my dad, obviously, but he’s also another queer man who raised a son alone and prefers science over social constructs. He’s basically like an older version of me.”
“He sounds like a good man and a great dad.”
“The best dad.”
“Can I—never mind.” I snapped my mouth shut.
“Can you what?” He tilted his head curiously.
“It’s nothing. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I think we’re past censoring ourselves, Doc.”
I bit my lip. It felt wrong to ask for more when he’d already shared so much.
“Go ahead. I’m an open book.”
“It’s about your mother.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up in a small smile. “I was wondering how long it would take you to ask about her. Most people crack as soon as they find out I was raised by a teen dad.”
“I didn’t want to pry.”
“Asking isn’t prying. But I’ll save you the trouble of having to figure out how to ask. She and my dad had a one-time thing, and she got pregnant. She wasn’t ready to be a parent, but she chose to have me. My dad had two options: sign over his rights so I could be put up for adoption or take full custody of me.”
“He chose custody?”
Quinn nodded. “My grandparents supported us while he finished high school and figured out what he wanted to do with his life. We stayed with them until I was five.”
“Do you have contact with your mom?”
“Not a lot of contact. I get letters from her a couple times a year giving me updates about her life, and I send her letters, albeit heavily censored ones.” He chuckled. “But I don’t really consider her my mother. I understand why she made the choice she did, and I don’t judge her for it. Even as a kid, I didn’t really feel like I was missing anything because I had my dad and my grandparents. Now I have my dad, my stepdad, and my stepbrothers. I have an awesome family, just not a traditional one.”