Alright, strap in for round two of my bald-headed love story.

It’s been a year since Gordon kissed me in the school parking lot and turned my life into some gay grandpa rom-com. Things were going great—so great that I sometimes caught myself wondering when the hell the other shoe was going to drop. But let’s be real, life doesn’t give a fuck about timing, so the shoe didn’t just drop. It kicked me square in the nuts.

It started with a staff meeting. You know the kind—where the principal drones on about “synergy” and “budget constraints” like anyone gives a flying fuck. Gordon and I had been careful not to make our relationship too obvious at work. Sure, most of the staff had probably figured it out by now—teachers gossip worse than teenagers—but we hadn’t made any grand declarations.

Until that meeting.

We were sitting next to each other, and Gordon, the cheeky bastard, decided it would be a good time to lean over and whisper, “Your tie is crooked.”

I glanced at him. “So fix it.”

He smirked, reached over, and straightened my damn tie like he was auditioning for some sappy romance flick. And of course, half the room saw it. One of the gym teachers, this macho dipshit named Coach Delaney, let out a low whistle.

“Well, ain’t that cute,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Didn’t know this was a couples retreat.”

The room went dead silent, except for the principal clearing his throat like he wanted to crawl under the table. Gordon, unbothered as fuck, turned to Delaney with a look that could freeze hell.

“Didn’t know this was a ‘let’s be a homophobic jackass’ retreat,” Gordon shot back, his voice calm but sharp enough to cut glass.

I swear, you could’ve heard a pin drop. Delaney turned red, muttered something under his breath, and shut the hell up for the rest of the meeting. But I wasn’t just impressed—I was floored. Here I was, a history teacher with a thick skin and a big mouth, and Gordon had managed to make me feel like a fucking amateur in the art of sass.

After the meeting, I pulled him aside in the hallway. “You didn’t have to do that, you know,” I said.

He shrugged. “Yeah, I did. No one talks to you like that. Not on my watch.”

I stared at him for a second, trying to figure out what the hell I’d done to deserve this guy. “You’re kind of a badass, you know that?”

“And you’re just figuring this out now?” he teased, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before walking off like he hadn’t just made my goddamn year.

But of course, life wasn’t done fucking with us. The next week, we got hit with our first big argument.

It was about Thanksgiving, of all things. Gordon wanted to host dinner at his place, inviting his kids and grandkids—and he wanted me to bring my daughter and grandson. Easy, right? Wrong. My daughter, Sarah, has always been… complicated about me being gay. She doesn’t hate it, but she doesn’t exactly love it either. And the idea of introducing her to Gordon? Yeah, that was a ticking time bomb.

“I just don’t think it’s the right time,” I said one night as we sat on the couch, sipping wine like the old farts we were.

Gordon frowned, setting his glass down. “Chase, when is the right time? You’ve been avoiding this for months.”

“I’m not avoiding it,” I snapped, even though I fucking was. “I’m just trying to keep the peace.”

“Well, maybe the peace isn’t worth keeping if it means hiding who you are,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind.

I wanted to argue, to tell him he didn’t understand—but he did. Of course he did. Gordon had lost his husband years ago, and he’d told me all about the struggle of balancing his love life with his family. He wasn’t asking me to do anything he hadn’t done himself. And that pissed me off, because it meant he was right.

“Fine,” I said finally, running a hand over my bald head like I could somehow rub the stress away. “I’ll talk to her. But if she freaks out, you owe me a drink. A strong one.”

He smiled, leaning over to kiss my forehead. “Deal.”

Turns out, Sarah didn’t freak out. She was hesitant, sure, but when she met Gordon at Thanksgiving, he won her over in about five seconds flat. By the end of the night, she was laughing at his stupid biology jokes and even told me, “He’s good for you, Dad.”

So yeah, maybe the other shoe did drop. But instead of kicking my ass, it just reminded me that love—real, messy, inconvenient love—was worth every damn challenge. And with Gordon by my side, I was ready to face whatever came next.