“Somebody else’s son,” he muttered, lip curled, and stalked away.
“What was that?” asked Gabe, watching him go.
“My landlord doesn’t like me much,” said Ian, fishing his keys out while balancing the beer under his arm.
“Bad at paying rent on time?”
“No,” said Ian. He stepped aside to let Gabe through first. “I f****d his son.” Then he added under his breath, “more than twice.”
“Exactly how much more than twice?” asked Gabe.
Ian hadn’t thought he’d heard that.
“Enough,” he said. He didn’t mention his landlord blamed him for turning his son gay, even though the guy had been open to Ian he liked f*****g men. Ian just happened to be the guy the landlord first noticed hooking up with his son.
“Enough more than twice? That’d make any concerned parent pissed at you.” Gabe set down the piz
