“Throwing on a terry robe over the boxers he slept in, he made his way to the peephole and glared out at Brian Lightfoot who held up a grease-stained white bag. He unlocked the door, and Brian breezed in with his offerings. “I have returned. I bring beignets and café au lait for breakfast. My mother sent you an Easter basket filled with home-baked goodies. It’s downstairs.” “Does she think we’re a couple?” “Possibly, but I think it’s more the orphan story playing on her heartstrings. She says ne...xt time I should bring you home.” Brian set the bag and grande-sized paper cups on Howdy’s breakfast bar exactly like the one in his place except for the pebbled exterior, beige marble top, and the rush-seated stools. “I hope you told her I had an invitation from a girl to go to her house.” “Why crush her hope that I’d found a nice guy to spend my life with forever?” “Thanks a lot for that. So how was Easter at the Lightfoots?” “Same old, same old. Baked ham, deviled eggs, and Aunt Celia telling me she understood my lifestyle choice while Uncle Newt called me Ella’s faggot son.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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