Chapter 3
“You okay, Sweetcheeks?”
“Yes.” I inhaled and blinked rapidly, but finally I could meet his gaze dry-eyed. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for being so kind to me.”
“You’re my boy, aren’t you?”
Yes, I was.
* * * *
Franky bought me all the clothes I’d always wanted, the brands the cool kids at school wore. Poppa had said he didn’t intend to pay good money for underwear some guy put his name on, or for jeans with a fancy label on the back pocket, but what did Poppa know about it?
Franky knew, and he cared about me. He wasn’t going to throw me out because I was gay.
Best of all, he took me to a place that carried the same kind of motorcycle boots he wore. We found an awesome pair in my size. They were genuine leather, with the store’s logo embossed on the front, an inside zipper, and metal loops at the ankle. When I saw the price, though, I put them back in the box.
“Don’t you like them?”
“They’re perfect. But they cost so much.”
“You let me worry about that. Put them on.”