“I don’t know. Go ask him.”
“Oh, hellno.” Downstairs I heard the
door open again and more harsh voices drifted up through the floor
boards. I wasn’t going down thereto complain about being
hungry. I could barely speak to Mr. Pierce when he was alone, but
among his friends? Shyeah. No.
Prodding Mikey with my toe, I said, “You go
ask. He’s your dad.”
Mikey shrugged me off. “You ask. He likes
you.”
The words were a jolt of electricity shooting
through me. My dick, which had finally begun to soften, now
hardened again, doubling in size and pinching against the front of
my jeans. “He doesn’t,” I said, only because I wanted to hear Mikey
tell me yeah, he does, he likes you like that. I tried to
keep my voice level and failed miserably when I asked, “Did he
really say that?”
Mikey made a dismissive sound and shook his
head. “You’re over here, aren’t you? If he didn’t like you, he
wouldn’t let us hang out.”
Absently I ran a finger down the zipper of my