Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
Vivian
I’m in my room flipping through my digital sketchpad when my watch vibrates with a message from Grady, asking if I’m available for a call. I respond by pulling up the video chat on my tablet and settling back against a pile of pillows.
Even in the somewhat flattened, old-school version of our video chat, I can tell that he just got out of the shower. His still-damp hair sticks up in every direction.
“Hey, handsome.” I blow him a kiss. “How was the game?”
“We lost, but we had some good plays. I’m proud of the guys.” Grady tucks one arm beneath his head. “Dante’s going to ride their asses as soon as we get back, but I gave a little speech at dinner. Wanted them to know that they’re improving. I can see them getting better every game. More cohesive. It can be tempting for them to try to carry the game themselves, but I’d rather see them working together—” He shakes his head. “Aaaand I’m rambling now.”
“About your job, which you obviously care about.” I cross my ankles. “It’s not like you’re the only guy I know who waxes poetic about hockey, either. I’ve been a hockey fan since I was a little girl, so it’s not like you’re talking over my head.”
“True.” Grady flashes a crooked grin. “You know, Viktor took the loss pretty hard. Your brother has a smart mouth, but he’s serious about the game.”
“His motivation to succeed is one of his few redeeming qualities,” I agree. “What about you?”
A furrow forms between Grady’s eyebrows as he considers his answer. I like that he takes the time to answer my questions earnestly rather than throwing out whatever answer he thinks will make him sound macho. So many guys do. Viktor is the worst about it. Dad’s a little better, but he isn’t always open with me about what he’s thinking, since he’s my parent; I know he talks to Mom, though. Jaime, of course, will sob on my shoulder if the situation calls for it, which is one of the reasons we’re friends. I hate that so many guys spend so much time trying to project this image of what they think a man is supposed to be when really it’s all just bullshit.
“I don’t mind losing,” Grady says at last. “It doesn’t feel great, but it happens, and between playing and coaching, I’ve lost enough games in my day that I don’t take it so personally anymore. I’d be more upset if we’d played badly. At this point, I’m thinking long-term. How do we get better for the next game? The next season?”
“You do that a lot, don’t you? Think long-term?”
Grady’s smile is so soft that it makes my toes curl. “Yeah, I do.”
I bite my lip. “Grady…”
“Yes, Vivian?”
“I wish you were here.”
“Oh?” He wiggles his eyebrows. “And what would you do if I were?”
I run the tip of my tongue across my bottom lip. “Do you want me to tell you? Or show you?”
“Is showing an option?”
I grin as I lean over to dig through my nightstand, where I have three vibrators on standby: a bullet vibe, a V-shaped clit and G-spot stimulator, and one that looks more or less like a real penis… if penises were blue and sparkly.
“Is that a mermaid dildo?” Grady asks.
“Merman.” I let the tip rest against my lips. “Obviously. Ready to see what I’d do if I had you in my bed right now?”
“Shit.” Grady fumbles with his phone, trying to balance it in one hand as he reaches for his groin with the other. I can’t see exactly what he’s doing, since he doesn’t hold the phone far enough away for me to tell what his hand is up to, but I can fill in the blanks. “Yes. Ready. I…” He groans.
I hum to myself as I suck the tip of the dildo into my mouth, licking it up and down its length. I exaggerate all my sounds, the sucking, the pop, the slight choking sound as I swallow it deep. Every time we’ve had sex, Grady has been the one to take the lead. I’m turned on by his reactions, but I’m still the one in control.
“Viv,” he pants. “How are you so… so… ah…”
I pull the vibrator out from between my lips with a loud pop. “What?”
He shakes his head. “So damn hot.”
I lick the dildo, running my tongue around its huge crown, saliva dripping down my chin. “We’ve been talking about toys. And the other day in your office, you mentioned that you wanted me to get off while I thought about you. Is it possible that you’re just a tiny bit of a voyeur?”
“I like watching you get off,” Grady pants. “But I’d rather be the one touching you.”
“And how would you be touching me if you were here?” I resume sucking the dildo.
“First, I would—”
“Vivian? Are you there?” My bedroom door opens as Mom peers inside.
For a moment, I’m frozen with a dildo in my mouth, the projection of my tablet casting a blue glow on my face. Thank God we hadn’t gone any further, or I might actually die of embarrassment.
“Mom!” I yell. My hands move of their own accord, one ending my call with Grady, and the other throwing the vibrator as far as I can. The door slams behind Mom, and I hear her back thump against the other side.
“Sorry!” she calls through the door. “I should have knocked.”
A bubble of laughter rises in my chest. I can’t stop myself. Within seconds, I’m laughing so hard that tears roll down my cheeks. I’m thirty-two, for heaven’s sake. This whole debacle feels like so… high school.
The door opens a crack. Mom’s blue eye appears in the gap. “The front door to the pool house was unlocked, and then I thought I heard the TV on, and I’m so sorry I didn’t wait outside like a normal person. But… can I… can I come in?”
I wave her through, still hiccupping with mirth. I catch a glimpse of the dildo where it landed on top of the laundry pile, which sets me off all over again. Poor Grady. At least Mom didn’t see his face in the hologram projection. I’m positive. She was too busy staring at mine.
She presses her hands to her flaming cheeks. “I came up to ask if you wanted to get a late dinner together since the boys are out of town. You’ve been so busy with the show that I feel like we haven’t talked in ages… but if you want to call him back, I can just, uh, go.”
I sit up on the bed. “It would be pretty awkward to keep going now that you’re aware. Sorry, I didn’t even hear you come in.”
“You were preoccupied.” A slight smile creeps onto Mom’s lips. She’s still flushed, but she’s taking this in stride.
Mom’s always been pretty sex-positive, even though we don’t talk about the details. I mean, ew, she’s fucking my dad. I don’t want to get into the nitty-gritty. But she’s always been upfront about sex and bodily functions. When I was a little kid, she would read me picture books about bodies and how they worked. We never had to sit down and have a “birds and the bees” talk that other kids complained about because she just made it part of the conversation. I don’t remember her being pregnant with Viktor, but when she had Vanessa, she was honest about what the experience of being pregnant was like.
She may look like a Disney princess, but Mom doesn’t beat around the bush. When I ask for advice, she doesn’t push for the details.
“I’d like to get dinner,” I tell her. “And maybe we can… talk? About some things?”
She lowers her hands from her cheeks. “Are you hoping for some advice?”
“About a guy I’m seeing. Not about, uh.” I wave my hand at the dildo. “Not about sex.” I’m good on that front. It’s the emotional part that’s new territory for me.
Mom nods decisively. “In that case, maybe we should order in.”
* * *
I order curry. Mom gets a spicy noodle dish that makes my nose hairs curl just from the smell. We split an order of fresh spring rolls.
Mom doesn’t ask a single question until we’re settled at the kitchen table. Even then, she waits for me to take the lead.
“So, I’m seeing this guy,” I begin.
“I gathered that much.”
I nibble one of the spring rolls. “I’m not even sure I should bother saying anything. It was just going to be a fling.”
“A hookup?” Mom asks. “Or friends with benefits?”
“The first one,” I tell her. “We skipped the friends stage.”
“Ah.” She bobs her head in understanding. “So it started as a one-night stand, then?”
I suck my teeth. I’m not sure that’s how it started. Not for Grady. I remember what he said in the elevator in the Mona Lisa that first day.
“I think he always wanted it to be more,” I say at last. “But I thought, come on. Really? Of course, he just wanted to get in my pants. What guy would prefer a committed relationship over a casual fling?”
Mom smiles down into her noodles. “You’d be surprised.”
“Well, he’s certainly surprising.”
“I don’t think I ever told you about how your father and I got together, did I?” Mom looks up at me from under her long lashes. “It’s a little risqué, I suppose, and I didn’t want to overshare.”
“But now you’ve seen me deepthroating a silicon dong,” I deadpan.
Mom cackles. “Exactly. Fair’s fair.”
“I always assumed that you guys started dating when you met at the bookstore,” I say. How risqué could they have been in a bookshop?
“We did, technically. Francine invited him to participate in blind date with a book.” Mom pauses a beat. “We were reading smut.”
It’s my turn to cackle. “You didn’t!”
“I did. At the time, I’d only had one pretty disappointing sexual encounter back in college, although I did a lot of recreational reading. Noah didn’t want to date since he had you, and he wanted to focus on being the best dad he could be along with his NHL career. I asked him to give me lessons instead.”
“Whoa. Like, sexy lessons?”
Mom nods.
It’s hard for me to picture that. I mean, I know that my dad is objectively attractive, since my friends always tell me so. Even Jaime and Mia have swooned over his old NHL photos. But he’s so stoic. And Mom’s so sweet. Did they really start as fuckbuddies?
“We had a few sexy video calls ourselves in our day,” she adds.
I hold up a hand. “TMI.”
Mom laughs again. “Anyway, neither of us went into it thinking that we’d end up dating, much less happily married. Now, I’m his little tater tot.”
“Which is why he brings you jumbo bags of tater tots from Costco.”
“It was his nickname for me, back when we started seeing each other.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Those two are so cute; it’s hard to picture them fighting their mutual attraction.
“Let me ask you something,” Mom says. “This guy you’re seeing… Is he respectful? Does he show that he cares for you even when it doesn’t immediately benefit him?”
I nod.
“And he’s made it clear that he’s not seeing anyone else?”
I nod again.
Mom sits back in her chair. “Good. As long as you’re both respectful of each other, love finds a way, Viv. And love doesn’t always look like we imagined. I wouldn’t change my experience for anything. Maybe this relationship will work out, and maybe it won’t, but if it’s going well, who cares how it started?”
I pick at my food. “What if Dad doesn’t approve?”
This has been my biggest worry, but Mom waves my words away as if they’re inconsequential. “As long as you’re happy, he’ll get over it. Your whole life has been unconventional. Why would your love suddenly be traditional? All we’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.”
I’m not sure it’s that simple, given that Grady is Dad’s boss. But as we move on to other topics, a new worry takes shape in the back of my mind.
What if Dad isn’t the limiting factor here? What if I’m only using him as an excuse to keep from fully acknowledging my growing feelings for Grady?
What if I’m the only one holding us back?