Page 397 of His Hungry Wolf

“Do I need a reason to talk to my brother?”

“When it comes to you, yes. Always. What do you want?”

“You think so little of me. Maybe I just wanted an opportunity to get to know my soon-to-be brother-in-law. You never even introduced us.”

I was waiting for Lou to tell him he hadn’t introduced us because Chris had been too busy being a prick, but he didn’t.

“Chris, this is Titus. Titus, this is my asshole brother, Chris.”

“Titus, huh? Is that a biblical name?”

“Roman.”

“Oh, like the emperor?”

“I suppose.”

“Interesting. And how did the two of you meet?”

Chris sat on a chair near the bottle and poured himself a drink.

“Do you seriously care, Chris?” Lou asked suspiciously.

“If he’s going to be a part of the family, shouldn’t we at least know a little more about him?”

Lou became weirdly quiet. I couldn’t tell if he was worried I would blow our cover or if it was something else. But I had this. People like his brother never got to me.

“We have a friend in common,” I told him.

“Quin,” Lou added.

“Ah, Quin.”

I was waiting for him to say something snide about Quin but he didn’t.

“Yeah. Quin was the one who convinced me to go to East Tennessee. So, when I got there, he showed me around. When we arrived back at his place, I met his roommate. It was love at first sight. At least on my part.”

“How provincial?” Chris said leaving me confused by what he meant.

“Yeah. Anyway, we started hanging out. And when I realized that there was no one else I wanted to spend the rest of my life with, I asked him to marry me.”

“And I said yes,” Lou said floating over and wrapping his arms around me.

“Just your typical love story,” I said with a smile.

Chris huffed.

“So, what about you?” I asked. “Are you with anybody?”

“I am with a lot of people. Though, I guess you gay guys have a different definition of a lot. Sex is more like a handshake when it comes to you people, isn’t it?” he said smugly.

I didn’t know how to respond to that. Putting his stupid stereotype aside, as far as I knew, Lou was still a virgin. And the only person I had been with was a girl I thought I was in love with in high school.

“Well, not every gay guy is the same,” I said with a smile. “Just like not everyone who looks like the bad guy in an eighties ski movie is a soul-less asshole.”

Chris gave me an icy stare, chuckled, and then grabbed the bottle and returned to the house.

I watched him go. When he was out of earshot, I turned to Lou.