by: Jayce Ellis
Series: Higher Education
Genre: African American Gay Romance
Release Date: March 9, 2021
Publisher: Carina Press
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Carlton Monroe is finally getting his groove back. After a year playing dad to his nephew and sending him safely off to college, it’s back to his bachelor ways. But when his teenaged niece shows up on his doorstep looking for a permanent home, his plan comes to a screeching halt. Family is everything, and in the eyes of social services, a couple makes a better adoptive family than an overworked bachelor father. A fake relationship with his closest friend is the best way to keep his family together.
If things between him and Deion are complicated, well, it only needs to last until the end of the semester.
Living with Carlton is a heartbreak waiting to happen, and once the adoption goes through, Deion’s out. He’s waited two decades for Carlton to realize they’re meant for each other, and he’s done. It’s time to make a clean break. But it’s hard to think of moving away when keeping up the act includes some very real perks like kissing, cuddling and sharing a bed.
Even the best charades must come to an end, though. As the holidays and Deion’s departure date loom, the two men must decide whether playing house is enough for them—or if there’s any chance they could be a family for real.
This was Carlton, probably texting to make sure Deion’s sabbatical had started, and to urge him to come visit in DC.
“You sure you don’t need to check that?” Bev asked, laughter evident in her voice. She’d met Carlton a few times and simply adored him, something he constantly gloated about.
Deion shook his head. “No, it’s not urgent.”
“How do you know?” Cheryl asked.
“If it were, he’d call.” Cheryl hummed, exchanged a glance with Bev, then went back to pretending she wasn’t listening in.
Beverly smiled, a benevolent thing that made him think he was about to be gently scolded for his obvious lack of understanding, then went back to the topic at hand. “Deion, I’m married, with children, grandchildren, friends, and family who all live here,” she started. “You’re a hermit who has no ties, refuses to make friends other than the one you’re conveniently ignoring, and with your parents moving, you have nothing tethering you to this place.” She paused and winked. “I respect this more than you know. But the point is,” she said, over his surprised laugh, “that you don’t have to settle for this job, not when there are other better opportunities for you.”
“Like what?” How the hell could starting from scratch at thirty-eight be better than continuing the path he’d been working on for almost fifteen years?
“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “That’s for you to decide. My quilting class starts on Monday and that’s all I’m worried about. I have another grandbaby on the way, you know.” She looked around the lounge, nearly empty now except for her family and close friends, and smiled.
“I didn’t.” Deion pulled her into an over-the-chair hug. He was not jealous of her good fortune and loving family. He was not. “Congrats. That makes, what, five?”
Bev nodded and sipped her drink. “Yep. So I have a reason to stick around. You don’t. Cut your losses now, get away from this nonsense, and start over.” Deion’s phone vibrated again and she pointed to it. “Like maybe with your friend there. DC has a ton of universities. I’m sure you could find a position there. And Carlton would love to have you.” She winked and Deion huffed before shaking his head.
The idea had rattled around in his brain for months. Scratch that, years. When they’d graduated from DePaul sixteen years ago, Deion had known he couldn’t spend his life following Carlton everywhere, even though it’d been tempting. But Carlton was from DC and he’d been adamant about going home. So Deion had done the same and stayed home. But his parents had up and moved to London five years ago, and had been on him to come visit—preferably forever—ever since.
Deion didn’t have any real interest in moving to London, but DC was also a non-option. He had three years of practice in knowing what living with Carlton was like, and he couldn’t go there again. Not if he wanted to maintain his sanity.
Bev insisted Carlton felt more for Deion than he let on. Deion had been so adamant in his denial that she’d let it go, but she raised her brows every time Carlton texted. Which was daily. Something about needing to speak to each other every day pinged her alarm bells, and none of Deion’s protestations that it was just Carlton’s nature could convince her it didn’t mean more.
He looked at his watch. It was pushing on four. He needed to get home and call his parents before he had to hear Ma complain about his lack of timeliness too.
He finished the last of his drink in one gulp, then leaned over and pecked a kiss on Bev’s cheek. “Thank you for everything, Auntie,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t have gotten this far without you.”
She touched her forehead to his. “Yes, you would’ve. But it’s time for you to move on, too. Now, before you get stuck.”
“You sure you don’t need to check that?” Bev asked, laughter evident in her voice. She’d met Carlton a few times and simply adored him, something he constantly gloated about.
Deion shook his head. “No, it’s not urgent.”
“How do you know?” Cheryl asked.
“If it were, he’d call.” Cheryl hummed, exchanged a glance with Bev, then went back to pretending she wasn’t listening in.
Beverly smiled, a benevolent thing that made him think he was about to be gently scolded for his obvious lack of understanding, then went back to the topic at hand. “Deion, I’m married, with children, grandchildren, friends, and family who all live here,” she started. “You’re a hermit who has no ties, refuses to make friends other than the one you’re conveniently ignoring, and with your parents moving, you have nothing tethering you to this place.” She paused and winked. “I respect this more than you know. But the point is,” she said, over his surprised laugh, “that you don’t have to settle for this job, not when there are other better opportunities for you.”
“Like what?” How the hell could starting from scratch at thirty-eight be better than continuing the path he’d been working on for almost fifteen years?
“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug. “That’s for you to decide. My quilting class starts on Monday and that’s all I’m worried about. I have another grandbaby on the way, you know.” She looked around the lounge, nearly empty now except for her family and close friends, and smiled.
“I didn’t.” Deion pulled her into an over-the-chair hug. He was not jealous of her good fortune and loving family. He was not. “Congrats. That makes, what, five?”
Bev nodded and sipped her drink. “Yep. So I have a reason to stick around. You don’t. Cut your losses now, get away from this nonsense, and start over.” Deion’s phone vibrated again and she pointed to it. “Like maybe with your friend there. DC has a ton of universities. I’m sure you could find a position there. And Carlton would love to have you.” She winked and Deion huffed before shaking his head.
The idea had rattled around in his brain for months. Scratch that, years. When they’d graduated from DePaul sixteen years ago, Deion had known he couldn’t spend his life following Carlton everywhere, even though it’d been tempting. But Carlton was from DC and he’d been adamant about going home. So Deion had done the same and stayed home. But his parents had up and moved to London five years ago, and had been on him to come visit—preferably forever—ever since.
Deion didn’t have any real interest in moving to London, but DC was also a non-option. He had three years of practice in knowing what living with Carlton was like, and he couldn’t go there again. Not if he wanted to maintain his sanity.
Bev insisted Carlton felt more for Deion than he let on. Deion had been so adamant in his denial that she’d let it go, but she raised her brows every time Carlton texted. Which was daily. Something about needing to speak to each other every day pinged her alarm bells, and none of Deion’s protestations that it was just Carlton’s nature could convince her it didn’t mean more.
He looked at his watch. It was pushing on four. He needed to get home and call his parents before he had to hear Ma complain about his lack of timeliness too.
He finished the last of his drink in one gulp, then leaned over and pecked a kiss on Bev’s cheek. “Thank you for everything, Auntie,” he whispered. “I wouldn’t have gotten this far without you.”
She touched her forehead to his. “Yes, you would’ve. But it’s time for you to move on, too. Now, before you get stuck.”
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Jayce Ellis started writing as a child (just ask the poor sixth-graders forced to listen to her hand-written cozy mystery), then made the tragic mistake of letting the real world interfere for the next two decades. When she finally returned to her first love (her husband and two turtles, Chompers and Desi, remain locked in an eternal battle for second), she’d transitioned from mystery to romance, and there she’s found her true passion.
Jayce writes about people a bit like her, Black and queer and striving to find the good in a world fixated on the bad. She prefers her angst low and her characters hot—a term encompassing all shapes, sizes, and complexions.
There may be a hint of irony in Jayce’s day job as a family law attorney, but she soothes herself in worlds where people communicate and find a way to work things out and reach a real and true HEA, even if there’s rarely a neat, tidy little bow wrapping everything else up. Because really, where’s the fun in that?
Places to find Jayce Ellis:
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Instagram | Amazon Author Page
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