“He loves me.”

“Your dreamy-eyed school boy.”

“In ways that you can’t.”

“In ways that I won’t.”

“How do you know Ethan, anyway?” Gus asked from the back seat in a voice that sounded eerily like Lindsay when she was pissed.

“It’s Mr. Gold,” I said through gritted teeth.

Justin shot me a nervous glance and I pretended not to notice.

“He said we could call him by his first name,” Gus shot back.

I gave him a look that promised a slow and painful death in the rearview mirror. He ignored it. He usually did.

“Well?!” Gus asked, leaning forward in his seat and frowning at the back of Justin’s head.

Justin sighed and looked over his shoulder at Gus. “Put your seatbelt on.”

“Tell me how you know him!”

Casting one more nervous look my way, Justin cleared his throat and spoke. “We used to… go out. A long time ago.”

Well, that wasn’t exactly the whole story, was it?

Gus frowned a little. “Oh.”

I took the turn into the parking lot fast, and Gus slid across the back seat and bumped his head on the door.

“OW! Hey!”

“I told you you should wear your seatbelt,” Justin mumbled.

He was avoiding looking at me. He knew exactly what kind of mood I was in, and it wasn’t good. Before we’d left he’d actually offered to take Gus himself, but I wasn’t having any of it. First off, I’d promised Lindsay to do the good father thing and be involved in Gus’ education, whatever that meant. Secondly, I wasn’t going to give Justin a moment alone with the fiddler if I could help it.

Not that I thought anything would happen. Because it wouldn’t. Justin loved me. We were married. He didn’t want the fiddler. Why would he? I was hotter, smarter, and better in bed than him by far. And the few things that asshole had given him, I did now. Or at least I tried.

But there was still this nervous, anxious part of me, deep down that knew… if Justin was ever going to leave me for anyone, it would be him.

We went into the school building and walked down the hall. Fuck, I hated going into schools. College wasn’t so bad, but high school… well, there were more than a few bad memories associated with that…some of them from my school days, and some from Justin’s.

That’s why I insisted Gus go to this expensive private school in ml:namespace prefix = st1 />West Virginia. It was closer to home, it had a great reputation, it wasn’t a religious school, and most importantly it was as different as it could be from the places Justin and I had gone.

Still… there were memories.

“Brian?”

“What?!”

“What’s that?”

“A bomb.”

“What?!”

“Well, what the fuck does it look like?!”

“Why do you have a fucking bomb?!”

“To blow up the school. Why else?”

We were going to the music department first. I wanted to get this over with, and Gus wanted to show off how hot his teacher was. Fuck. The fact that Justin had liked him was bad enough, but my own son?!

The music room was huge, and there was a crowd of teenage girls and their mothers gathered in the corner, surrounding someone with black hair.

Fuck.

“There he is!” Gus whispered loudly.

FUCK.

The black-haired man stepped through the crowd of women, smiling charmingly at them. “Sorry, ladies, I have more parents to meet. I’ll see you on Monday.”

The girls all made disappointed noises, their mothers included, and left the room, leaving us alone.

He turned to face us and the look of shock on his face would have been hilarious if I wasn’t so fucking angry.

Standing in front of me wasn’t the greasy, awkward, school-boy I’d known and despised so long ago. No, he’d grown up. He’d matured. He’d gotten… fuck. He’d gotten hot.

He was still short, compared to me at least, and thin, but he’d gotten a little more muscle tone. His skin was slightly darker, like he actually bothered getting a tan now, and his hair was a little long, wavy, but it looked freshly washed and not like he was using half a bottle of product anymore.

This was NOT good.

“Justin?” the fiddler asked, and walked to us, a look of amused surprise on his face.

Justin smiled and shrugged stiffly. “Yeah.”

“These are my parents,” Gus said, sounding bored.

The fiddler looked confused for just a moment, and glanced at me, then smiled widely and pulled Justin into a hug. And Justin hugged him back.

Gus’ eyes were huge and his face was pink and I could FEEL the anger radiating off of him.

I just stood there, rooted to the spot, my expression carefully calm, but anger churned in my gut.

When they pulled apart, Justin was slightly flushed, but smiling.

“So, you’re his parents?” Ethan asked, looking at Gus.

“He’s my real dad,” Gus said, jerking his thumb at me.

Justin winced. That was harsh. But I couldn’t bring myself to care.

Ethan nodded, smiling. “I should have seen the resemblance.” He gave me a look, sizing me up, and almost held out his hand for me to shake – but then didn’t. He must have realized that there was no way I would shake his hand. “So the two of you are still together.” He hesitated before continuing. “That’s good.”

Justin beamed at him.

I repressed a scowl.

Gus stepped between Justin and the fiddler and smiled charmingly at him. “I’m trying to convince them to let me take violin!”

I rolled my eyes and the fiddler gave me an amused look. Fucking asshole. He knew exactly why I wouldn’t be exactly receptive to that idea, and it amused him.

“Well, you should really try a few instruments before you pick one,” he told Gus. “I’m teaching most of the string instruments,” he said. “With hands like yours, you might do well taking guitar.”

I felt my shoulders relax slightly. Even if he was going to take lessons with the fiddler, at least I wouldn’t have to hear that horrible noise every day when he practiced.

Gus frowned a little, considering. “Maybe,” he said.

“I think that would be a better choice,” the fiddler said, and gave me another amused look.

Asshole.

He turned to Justin and smiled. “Gus is doing well in his general music classes, though. He has talent. Although sometimes he’s a little disruptive.”

“Well, that’s because sometimes your class is boring,” Gus said cheerfully.

“Sorry,” Justin said. “It’s not my influence.”

The fiddler chuckled charmingly and I wanted to strangle the life out of him.

“Say, would you like to have dinner? I’d love to catch up,” the fiddler said, reaching out and touching Justin’s arm.

Bastard!

Justin beamed at him. “Sure! I’d love to hear about your fabulous adventures in Europe.”

The fiddler gave Justin a smug look, and I had the urge to kick the back of his legs HARD so he’d fall on his face and break his nose.

“Well, I spent a few years there, but I came home. It’s a long story.”

“How about tonight, then?” Justin asked.

“Sure,” the fiddler said. “Do you know Mario’s?”

Mario’s?! The most expensive fucking Italian place in West Virginia?! The place I always took Justin when I was taking him on a not-date?! Asshole!

“Of course,” Justin said. “How about six o’clock?”

The fiddler nodded, and then turned to Gus, who was fuming. “And I’ll see you on Monday.”

Gus forced a smile, and then stomped out of the room. I shot Justin a look, and followed him. Dinner?! Just the two of them?! Romance? Wine? Fucking candles?

As I followed Gus to meet his next teacher, Justin trailing behind us, I wondered just how much money it would really take to cover up a murder.