Free Nobody's Son by Shae Connor

bottom of the pool, and in another moment, he had his feet under him. He couldn’t look Con in the eye. Yeah, I’m a big fucking stereotype, the black guy who can’t swim.
    Why did he ever think coming to a fucking pool party would be a good idea?
    “Everything okay?”
    Shaun’s face heated at Jimmy’s question.
    “It’s all good,” Con called back. “Just caught him off guard, and he got a mouthful of water.” He turned his attention back to Shaun, lowering his voice. “It’s okay. I didn’t learn until I was in college, and then just because I was trying to impress a guy on the swim team.”
    Shaun took a breath and let it out. “I had lessons scheduled,” he admitted softly. “Summer before I turned fourteen. Then my mom….”
    He couldn’t finish, but he didn’t need to. Con squeezed his arms, and Shaun knew he understood.
    “So we’ll stay in the shallow end.” Shaun lifted his head to find Con grinning at him. “For now. Maybe we can teach you a few new things, hmmm?”
    Staring into Con’s soft, warm gaze as the adrenaline rush faded, what Shaun wanted Con to teach him at that moment had very little to do with swimming, though exercise and getting wet figured heavily into his thoughts.
    Con slid one hand down to tangle his fingers with Shaun’s under the waterline. “How about we find a couple of empty lounge chairs and have a beer or three?”
    “That sounds perfect.” Shaun squeezed Con’s hand and let himself be led to the wide steps at the end of the pool. They climbed out hand in hand and walked toward the nearest pair of seats as the music switched from Rihanna to something Shaun didn’t immediately recognize. A shout from the other pool area told him either that crowd loved it or, just as likely, something involving naked men was going on over there.
    “You save our spots,” Con told him, “and I’ll grab us some beers.”
    He brushed a quick kiss over Shaun’s lips and let go of his hand, but before Shaun could sit or Con could walk away, Xavier strolled by, fingers woven around the necks of empty bottles.
    “You guys need anything?” Xavier asked. “I’m getting refills for Taylor and me.”
    “Sure, that’d be great.” Con turned to Shaun. “Any preferences?”
    “Whatever’s cold is fine with me.” Shaun smiled at Xavier, who gave him a lingering look and a raised eyebrow.
    “You got it, hottie.” He turned his flirtatious attention to Con. “Same for you, stud?”
    Shaun watched as Con crooked up one corner of his mouth. “Eyes on your own paper, X-Man.”
    Xavier crowed out a laugh. “Man, no one’s called me that in years.” He wiggled his hips. “Two beers coming right up!”
    Xavier sashayed away, and Con shook his head and waved a hand toward their seats. “He’s a crazy man,” he said as they settled onto their lounges. “Worked with him for about five minutes years ago—he was a sound guy, never on camera—and he never forgets a thing. Mind like an elephant. He could probably tell me what color underwear I was wearing that day.”
    That was the first time Con had so casually mentioned what he used to do, and Shaun took a second to formulate the right response. “What color underwear were you wearing?”
    Con laughed. “I haven’t the foggiest idea. Probably something bright. They always wanted the black guys in bright colors. Guess they figured anything black would just blend right in.”
    “Speaking of blending in….” Shaun nodded toward Con’s shoulder. “Tell me about the tat?”
    Con twisted his head to look down at the design, then looked back toward Shaun and shrugged. “It was the thing to do back then. Bunch of the guys were getting them. Mostly stars and song lyrics and stuff, but some of them tribal designs. I picked out this pattern partly because it was simple, so I figured it’d be easier and wouldn’t take all that long to get. But damn.” He shuddered dramatically. “It hurt like hell. Never had the urge to get