Page 31 of Robbin’ the Rich

“Who is it?” Daniel demanded.

“None of your business,” I said immediately.

Dad blinked. “That is enough. We have business to take care of. Micah, I expect to see you on the stage next week. Our stage. Not whatever dive you were in last night.”

And that was that. I didn’t ever agree to being in the church band, but somehow it felt inevitable when I was with them. I shoveled another bite of mashed potatoes into my mouth. At least the food was good.

The second I escaped my parents’ house I could breathe again. It was like I’d spent the last two hours holding tension in my shoulders without realizing it.

I drove home, took the fastest shower known to mankind, changed into comfy joggers and an old NASA hoodie, then headed across town to Nate’s place carrying a backpack full of dice and unresolved emotional problems. A perfect Sunday evening, honestly.

Nate and his husband Jordan lived in a small blue house near downtown with two rescue dogs and nerdy wall art that made the whole place feel warm.

The second Nate opened the door he pointed at me dramatically. “Finally!”

“I’m barely even late.”

“It feels late. The wizard needs you.”

I stepped inside while one of the dogs launched itself against my legs for attention.

“Traitor,” Nate told the dog. “You love him more than me.”

“She recognizes superior intelligence.”

“You play barbarian characters.”

“Exactly.”

That earned me a middle finger as we headed toward the dining room already covered in maps, snacks, dice trays, and miniatures from our ongoing D&D campaign.

This was where I relaxed. Not church. Not family dinners. Here, with my actual people.

Nate flopped into his chair while I started unpacking my stuff, both of us launching into an argument about whether his bard should’ve survived last session’s dragon encounter.

“He made terrible tactical decisions,” I said.

“He made artistic decisions,” Nate defended.

“He tried seducing a dragon.”

“And for one beautiful moment, it almost worked.”

A laugh escaped me, real and unforced in a way it rarely felt back at my parents’ house. Upstairs footsteps sounded a second later before Jordan wandered down, already halfway into his coat for work. He leaned over Nate’s chair, kissing him softly before glancing toward me.

“Oh good,” Jordan said dryly. “The nerd convention started early.”

“We’re discussing strategy,” Nate said.

“You’re discussing fictional dragon seduction mechanics,” ‘I corrected.

“Important distinction.”

Jordan snorted and kissed Nate one more time. “Have fun with your little fantasy football for theater kids.”

Then he pointed at me. “And you.”

I blinked. “Me?”