Page 63 of American Love Story

This elicited another groan from Easton and a laugh from the rest of us. “I’ll try.”

Before she could embarrass Easton any more, she waved goodbye and walked off toward the door where a short woman with white curly hair was waiting for her.

Jude shook his head and smiled, watching them leave the restaurant. “She’s playing hardball with the DA thing, Easton. She might wear you down.”

I looked over to see his reaction and noticed he seemed uneasy. I wasn’t sure if it was about Cindy, the DA thing, orabout his parents. “She’s been on me about it for months.” He lifted a shoulder then and gave me a look I was not entirely sure I understood. “We’ll see.”

When we’d talked about it weeks ago, he didn’t seem very into the idea and the way he was still looking at Cindy made me think he still felt the same way. I wondered if he hadn’t talked more about it with me because he thought I’d be put off by it. If I was honest, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Thankfully, before I could go down a rabbit hole of worry over something I had no control over, Nesto spoke up.

“P, did you talk to Ari today?” Nesto’s face had the concerned parent look he got anytime we discussed Ari.

I shook my head as I glanced around the room, trying to spot my mentee. “No, I left early for campus and didn’t see him.” I wasn’t going to say that I’d stayed at Easton’s for the fourth night in six days, and that I didn’t even make it to my place this morning.

“That’s cool, man,” Nesto said. “No big, he’s just staying with Jude and me this weekend. Last weekend at the Farmer’s Market for the season, and he wants to be close to the kitchen since he’s in charge of the truck now.” Nesto always talked about Ari like a proud dad.

I nodded and looked at Easton, who still seemed a bit flustered from Cindy’s teasing. “Sounds good, man.”

Nesto angled his head in the direction of the kitchen. “I gotta go check on the food.” He turned to Jude then. “Baby, can you go take one last look around to see that everything’s set to go for the silent auction?”

Jude nodded and pushed up to give Nesto a kiss on the mouth. “Sure.” Those two had been together for almost two years and still could barely stand to go for a few minutes without touching. I turned to look at Easton and tried not to read too much into the wistful expression on his face.

“Thanks for coming, brother,” Nesto said, pulling me in for dap.

“Like you would let my ass stay home,” I grumbled.

He laughed as he clapped his palm against Easton’s. “True. Easton, you know you’re in your house, man.”

Jude waved at us, too, as he and his man walked off.

Easton and I stood there in a corner of the crowded restaurant, too close to not be together, but not close enough that people would label us as a couple offhand like they would with Jude and Nesto. Those two could be on opposite sides of the room and you could see they were a unit. It was like they had an invisible thread that tied them together.

I thought about how it would be to get there with Easton. It’s not as if I didn’t feel that drawn to him. The issue was letting it show. To let the whole world know he was mine. I wasn’t exactly surprised to notice that between reluctance and yearning to have that, the latter feeling won out.

“You’re certainly deep in thought.” Easton’s voice was curious, and when I glanced at him, I found him looking at me as if he knew what I’d been thinking.

“Nah, just looking around.” He didn’t look very convinced about my answer.

I was about to deviate the subject to Cindy’s comment about him running for DA when I saw Easton’s eyes widen and then heard him groan as an older couple headed in our direction. The woman had platinum-blonde hair coiffed to perfection. She was dressed expensively, almost but not quite too formal for the occasion, and was very petite, but I’d recognize those green eyes anywhere. Easton took after his father though, because the man walking toward us could’ve been my lover in thirty years.

Easton’s entire demeanor had changed by the time they reached us. His mother spoke first, as she leaned in to air kiss him hello. “We weren’t sure you’d make it, darling.”

“We thought you’d have to stay late at that place with everything you seem to have going on this week.” That was his dad, voice heavy with disapproval. I assumed he was talking about the trial Easton had been killing himself over for months now, but from his tone, you’d think he was running heroin up and down the Eastern corridor. He just bent down and kissed his mother’s cheek, then responded in a jovial tone.

“I was able to slip away.” He informed his father, who’d been giving me a long look. “Father.”

“And who’s this?” Easton’s eyes widened when his father asked the question and then turned his head so he was fully facing me. When Easton turned around, his expression was completely blank, like he barely could recall who I was. I had yet to see that expression on his face. I was sure that for him to do his job he’d probably learned to master not showing his emotions, but he’d never done that with me. From the first moment I’d met him I’d always been able to see exactly how he felt about me. Now, with his eyes seeming to go right through me, it was like a gut punch.

Before he spoke, he moved so that there was some distance between us. He extended a hand toward me and kept his eyes on his parents. “This is Dr. Denis, he’s one of the new faculty at the Cornell economics department. He’s also best friends with Ernesto, OuNYe’s owner.” He blankly glanced at me for a second before speaking. “Dr. Denis, these are my parents Anne and Easton Archer Jr.”

I shook their hands, still not sure what was going on with Easton. I knew things with his parents were strained, but he seemed to have morphed into a different person. It was like he could barely stand to look at me.

I was about to excuse myself when Anne spoke, her tone pleasant while her eyes did a very thorough assessment of me. “Dr. Denis, how are you finding our little town? Must be a shiftfrom urban life.” Her tone was pleasant enough, buturban life?What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

My back almost went up at that, but years in the Ivy League meant I’d had many a run-in with Anne Archer types, nice ladies who had a very interesting idea of how a black man got to be in places where they didn’t “usually belong.” Easton, on the other hand, seemed to get tenser with every word exchanged.

“It’s Patrice, and Ithaca has been fine so far, ma’am. Thank you for asking.” Again I kept my tone polite. Odette had not raised me to be anything other than painfully polite to women like Anne. Not a word, not a look, not ahairout of place.

Easton Archer Jr. spoke next, and he didn’t bother to pretend he was doing anything other than sizing me up. “Where are you from, Dr. Denis?”