Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Ricky
As it turned out, I’d underestimated just how bad my mom’s tuna noodle casserole was, because being stuck in the kitchen at work with Brett was suddenly looking like the preferable option.
I tried to be as independent as I could, so I didn’t eat dinner with my family all that often, especially now I was usually working late most evenings.
I liked to cook for myself and make my own schedule.
I was too old to still be living at home, in my opinion, and my mom didn’t seem to have realized yet that I was no longer a child who needed permission to do anything.
I had to remind her often that I was, in fact, an adult, and when she grilled me about every aspect of my life every time I did join a family dinner, I also had to let her know that it didn’t really make it an enjoyable experience, or one I wanted to repeat often.
Plus, my little sisters were so freaking loud and so totally annoying.
Had I been that annoying as a teenager? I didn’t think so.
I was a lot quieter than them. And I’d been a lot less spoiled.
They had their own phone in their room. I didn’t.
Maybe if I did, I would’ve gotten Elliot’s number earlier so I could’ve called him.
But there was no way I was going to speak to him in the hallway, with my mom shamelessly eavesdropping from the living room next door.
I cleared my plate and went upstairs as soon as I could get away with it without being chastised by Mom for being rude.
I just couldn’t take any more probing questions about every single one of my new work colleagues—a poorly disguised recon operation by my mom to try and figure out if there were any potential candidates for a girlfriend for me at Broth with a Bite.
I took a long shower to kill some time, the Elliot-less evening stretching endlessly out before me.
But it was still early when I got back into my bedroom, and I had no idea what to do with myself.
I dried my hair, and I heard my mom yelling for me from downstairs the moment I switched off the hairdryer.
Tugging open my door, I leaned into the hallway and yelled back, “Yeah?”
I heard her huff from the bottom of the stairs. “I’ve been calling for you for five minutes.”
I briefly clenched my jaw to hold back the various responses I could’ve given to that. You could hear that the hairdryer was on. You knew my door was shut. You could’ve just come upstairs and knocked. Instead, I took a breath and asked, “What’s up?”
“Have you done your laundry?”
My jaw tightened again, just for a second. “Uh-huh.”
“Because I’m doing the girls’ tomorrow, and I don’t want to open the washer and find a bunch of your wet clothes in there.”
Tighten. Relax. “You won’t, because I’ve already done it.”
“Just because you forget to move your laundry to the dryer all the time, honey.”
Could teeth shatter if clenched together too hard? “I did that once. And it’s already all folded and put away.”
“Okay.” Pause. “Have you brought down all the dirty dishes from your room? I want to turn the dishwasher on.”
“I don’t have any dirty dishes in my room, Mom,” I said as calmly as I could.
I heard her snort. “Really? Given how much time you spend locked away in there, I find that hard to believe. Do you think you’ll come downstairs and spend some time with your family any time soon, hon?” she asked sardonically.
Another deep breath. Another conscious effort to unclench my jaw. “The girls are in their room.” I could hear them in there.
“The girls are on the phone to their friends.”
I briefly closed my eyes, before they popped open again when I came to an abrupt decision. “Actually, I’m going out tonight.”
There was a pause, followed by “Out?” said in a disbelieving tone.
“Uh-huh.”
“Now?”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s, like, not even nine, Mom.” And I’m twenty-freaking-three years old.
She huffed, and her tone was a little sulky when she said, “Fine. Make sure you’re home by—” She cut herself off, seeming to remember, for once, that I was indeed twenty-freaking-three years old. “Just be safe.”
“I will.”
“Don’t drink and drive.”
“Mom, come on.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “When have I ever done that?”
“And don’t do any drugs, for the love of god.”
“Oh my god,” I muttered under my breath, turning to go back into my room.
“What was that?”
After a silent huff, I raised my voice again. “No, I won’t do any drugs.”
I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d rank drug-taking higher or lower on the forbidden list than what I’d done on the beach with Elliot last night.
***
I didn’t actually have anywhere to go, I’d just needed to get out of the house. And I’d been in such a rush to do that, I hadn’t actually called any friends to see if they wanted to hang out before leaving. I’d just fixed my hair, thrown on some jeans and a sweatshirt, and dipped.
At first, I considered going to the mall to wander around for a while. It’d be open for a few more hours, but all I’d want to do was go see Elliot, and it wasn’t like I could hang out with him in the special kitchen at work.
I almost went to the movie theater to watch something, initially finding the idea of sitting alone in a dark, quiet room with a big bucket of popcorn appealing.
But then I imagined doing it with Elliot instead.
Finding seats right at the back, out of sight.
Not even paying attention to the movie, because we’d be too busy making out under the cover of darkness.
So a movie on my own lost all its appeal too.
I ended up just driving around for a while listening to the radio, trying to chill and not let myself get too irritated by my mom.
She wasn’t that bad, just kind of domineering, in some ways treating me more like a kid than she did the twins—the actual two kids in the house.
I didn’t know if it was an unwillingness to accept that I was an adult now, on the cusp of moving out for good—god, I hoped so, anyway—or a case of the eldest child just being held to a different standard than the kids who’d followed, but it was getting to me. A lot. I needed to move out. Soon.
I needed space. And privacy.
If I had my own place, Elliot and I could…
I couldn’t remember if Elliot had ever mentioned having his own place, but I was pretty sure he did. He was twenty-six, so it was likely. I didn’t know if he had roommates, though. I wondered if I’d get to find out. If he’d ever invite me over.
I tried not to let my mind drift too much because I was driving, but it was impossible not to imagine what we’d be able to do if we were alone together somewhere, without any chance of being interrupted or walked in on.
I imagined being completely naked with him.
Every inch of his body pressed against mine.
Our hard cocks sliding together like they had last night on the beach.
All his smooth, pale skin on display for me to touch and taste.
I wanted to lick every inch of him, of his cock, his balls. I wanted to suck him into my mouth and feel the weight of him on my tongue. I wanted to know what his cock tasted like. What his cum tasted like.
I wanted him so, so much. More than I’d known it was possible to want anyone.
I lost track of time, and by the time I realized Broth with a Bite would be shut by now, it was too late for me to drive to the mall and hope to catch Elliot leaving. Maybe that would’ve been creepy behavior anyway. Maybe he would’ve found it weird.
Shoulders slumping in defeat, I decided to start heading back home.
Mom would probably be asleep in front of the TV by now, so I should be able to creep back in and up to my room without having to give her a minute-by-minute rundown of everything I’d done while out of the house.
If Dad wasn’t still at work, he’d be down in his “den” in the basement watching football.
When I was about halfway between home and the mall, near the oceanfront part of town, I pulled into a gas station to get some snacks.
Pity-party snacks, I decided to call them.
I was going to get whatever the hell I wanted, including a giant slushie as a tiny rebellion, seeing as Mom had never allowed me to have sugar in the evenings when I was growing up.
Giant cup of pure sugar before bed it was. That was what being an adult was all about.
I parked and climbed out of my car, shivering a little in the cool night air.
I was pretty sure Elliot still had my denim jacket from last night, but I’d forgotten to ask him at work.
It was fine, though. It wasn’t all that cold, and I was in no rush as I started heading for the entrance, absently jangling my keys in my hand.
I was just a handful of steps from the doors when I heard someone yell my name. I tensed up before bracing myself and slowly looking around.
I swear to god, if that’s Brett…
It wasn’t.
It was him. Elliot.
My body did something weird when I saw him.
It was like an electrical current made it past the rubber soles of my sneakers and snaked its way through every single one of my veins, from my toes to my scalp.
A full-body reaction that made my fingers twitch, my breath catch and my feet automatically take a step or two forward, toward him.
He strode across the forecourt toward me, then broke into a little jog for the last few yards, as if he was impatient to reach me. God knew I was.