Read Online Love Means_. Freedom - Andrew Grey by Andrew Grey - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Andrew Grey
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sorry, but Derrick just got home." Preston heard a door close behind Jasper, followed by a completely different type of giggle. "I'll see you tomorrow for our therapy session, and you can tell me everything." Jasper hung up as his giggles got deeper.
Closing the phone, Preston found the shirt he was looking for and began to change. It took him some time, but he was able to dress and clean up on his own. All set, he wheeled himself out of the room and got his coat, waiting near the front door for Stone to arrive.
"You're really going out with that boy?"
Preston turned around and sighed. He'd hoped he would be able to leave without seeing his father. "Yes, Dad."
He sipped his Scotch and looked thoughtful. "The one who kissed you?"
"Yes." Preston smiled when he saw a slight shudder travel through his father. The first chink in the man's formidable armor and the look on his face made Preston stop and look for a second.
He hadn't seen that look in a long time, and it gave him hope. He waited to see what his father would do next, but the man just stood there, looking at him. "Look, Dad." He sighed and wheeled himself closer. "I'm gay. I've never liked girls that way and I never will." He actually seemed to be listening. "I like men and that's not going to change, even if you parade the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders through the living room naked." He smiled and saw what he hoped was a ghost of a smile on his father's face. For the first time, Preston thought he might be getting through. Hell, this was the longest conversation they'd had in a long time, even if it was rather one-sided. "I'm sorry you're disappointed, but as you like to say, 'facts are facts'." Preston waited for some sort of reaction from the man, hoping for anything, but all he did was shake his head and walk down the hall, a door closing a few seconds later.
"Damn," Preston whispered, as he blinked away the wetness that threatened to spill from his eyes. He refused to cry over him. He'd already done enough of that and he wasn't going to do it any more. He knew he'd never been the son his father had wanted. Preston spent much of his teenage years trying to get his father's attention and approval, but by the time he graduated high school, he'd found that was impossible. Whatever he did just wasn't good enough. "I know you wanted a football star, but you got me instead." He turned and looked at where his father had disappeared. "Fuck," he said as he wiped his eyes again. "No wonder I act like an ass all the time." The one thing he wanted, he could never have. He had to accept that his father would never accept a gay son.
The doorbell rang, and Preston dabbed his eyes and wheeled himself to the door, opening it.
Stone stood on the doorstep, looking around, as twitchy as a cat, his lower lip between his teeth, nervously chewing. He looked adorably attractive as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Preston smiled and glided back. "Come in."
Stone gingerly stepped over the threshold, looking around the room. "I can't get over how rich you are." Stone's eyes were wide as saucers. "I'm not; my father is. I just live here." That was as good a way to describe it as any. This house hadn't felt like a home in a very long time. His mother was great, and things were good when his father was gone, but the minute he returned, it was as if the snow from the outside moved inside as well.
"I just live at the farm too." Stone's words and tone shocked Preston. Looking into his face, he saw his feelings echoed back to him. "Not that Geoff and Eli haven't been nice to me and made me feel welcome."
Preston went to the coat closet and pulled a coat off a hanger. "I know. You just don't feel as though it's your home." He began maneuvering the coat over his shoulders. "This building hasn't felt like home in a long time." Preston's arm got caught in his coat sleeve, and he felt Stone's hand on him, the warmth going right through his shirt, guiding his arm into the sleeve.
Closing the phone, Preston found the shirt he was looking for and began to change. It took him some time, but he was able to dress and clean up on his own. All set, he wheeled himself out of the room and got his coat, waiting near the front door for Stone to arrive.
"You're really going out with that boy?"
Preston turned around and sighed. He'd hoped he would be able to leave without seeing his father. "Yes, Dad."
He sipped his Scotch and looked thoughtful. "The one who kissed you?"
"Yes." Preston smiled when he saw a slight shudder travel through his father. The first chink in the man's formidable armor and the look on his face made Preston stop and look for a second.
He hadn't seen that look in a long time, and it gave him hope. He waited to see what his father would do next, but the man just stood there, looking at him. "Look, Dad." He sighed and wheeled himself closer. "I'm gay. I've never liked girls that way and I never will." He actually seemed to be listening. "I like men and that's not going to change, even if you parade the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders through the living room naked." He smiled and saw what he hoped was a ghost of a smile on his father's face. For the first time, Preston thought he might be getting through. Hell, this was the longest conversation they'd had in a long time, even if it was rather one-sided. "I'm sorry you're disappointed, but as you like to say, 'facts are facts'." Preston waited for some sort of reaction from the man, hoping for anything, but all he did was shake his head and walk down the hall, a door closing a few seconds later.
"Damn," Preston whispered, as he blinked away the wetness that threatened to spill from his eyes. He refused to cry over him. He'd already done enough of that and he wasn't going to do it any more. He knew he'd never been the son his father had wanted. Preston spent much of his teenage years trying to get his father's attention and approval, but by the time he graduated high school, he'd found that was impossible. Whatever he did just wasn't good enough. "I know you wanted a football star, but you got me instead." He turned and looked at where his father had disappeared. "Fuck," he said as he wiped his eyes again. "No wonder I act like an ass all the time." The one thing he wanted, he could never have. He had to accept that his father would never accept a gay son.
The doorbell rang, and Preston dabbed his eyes and wheeled himself to the door, opening it.
Stone stood on the doorstep, looking around, as twitchy as a cat, his lower lip between his teeth, nervously chewing. He looked adorably attractive as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other. Preston smiled and glided back. "Come in."
Stone gingerly stepped over the threshold, looking around the room. "I can't get over how rich you are." Stone's eyes were wide as saucers. "I'm not; my father is. I just live here." That was as good a way to describe it as any. This house hadn't felt like a home in a very long time. His mother was great, and things were good when his father was gone, but the minute he returned, it was as if the snow from the outside moved inside as well.
"I just live at the farm too." Stone's words and tone shocked Preston. Looking into his face, he saw his feelings echoed back to him. "Not that Geoff and Eli haven't been nice to me and made me feel welcome."
Preston went to the coat closet and pulled a coat off a hanger. "I know. You just don't feel as though it's your home." He began maneuvering the coat over his shoulders. "This building hasn't felt like home in a long time." Preston's arm got caught in his coat sleeve, and he felt Stone's hand on him, the warmth going right through his shirt, guiding his arm into the sleeve.
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