Chapter 18
MARK
Warm water rushes between us as we kiss softly in the shower at his place.
Tim’s hands rest on my face as he nips at my bottom lip.
It was just a week ago that we confessed how we felt…
that we became boyfriends. A week ago when we shared that amazing experience—one that was so much more than the fucking that got us into this.
After that night, we’ve spent nearly every day together, enjoying each other’s company.
We don’t spend as much time at my place as we used to.
We stay over here, where he can be close to his nanna, who’s totally cool with it.
In fact, she’s made a few jokes about this boyfriend he has running around the house now.
I can tell by the way she acts—so kind and sweet toward me, that she’s excited about Tim bringing someone around.
That she’s not used to him being with just one guy.
And I think she’s excited that he has someone other than her in his life.
“Why can’t we stay in here forever?” he asks, his hot breath against my face, the water that slaps against the back of his neck running down his chest and sliding between our bodies.
“We have lives. Jobs, and I have class.”
He runs his hands down my face, neck, arms, and sides. I enjoy his touch, appreciate it like I have so many times before. His eyes are fixed on me, as though he’s as hypnotized by me as I am by him.
“But I’d rather just be here with you,” I whisper.
I’m ashamed to be so honest about how I feel. I was never like this with Greg. I always felt like I needed to be guarded, but now that we’ve given each other permission to cut loose, I haven’t held back.
I’ve allowed myself to open up, but a part of me is still terrified that it has to end. And I’m constantly reminded of that fear by the fact that we can’t be out to the rest of the world. That despite how we feel, we’re still each other’s dirty little secrets.
“It wouldn’t be a crime if you swung by the party this weekend after your runs,” I say.
It’s at my pal Brody’s, and it’ll be the first big event I have time for since we became official.
“No one will care if we hung out a little.”
His expression turns serious, and he shakes his head.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. This isn’t just about you getting a bad reputation, but your mom. Can you imagine what she’d say if this got around to her?”
“I don’t care.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I’ve always had to live my life in her shadow. Making decisions based on the decisions she made. Doesn’t seem fair.”
He glances around. “And here I am living a crappy life because of the decisions my parents made.”
“Parents suck.”
Tim kisses me and then breaks it to say, “No. I can’t be around you at that party.”
“Why?”
“Because I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.”
As he says that, he moves his hands across my back, down to my ass.
He gropes and fondles.
“We have to come out someday,” I tell him.
“When I get out of this line of work.”
“Oh, and when will that be?”
“I don’t know. We got a lot of bills, and I keep thinking that if I just get ahead of some of them, then I can drop this, but we’ve never stopped playing catch-up.
Wish we could just say fuck it and get out of here.
Go to some island where no one can ever find us.
No one can ever make me get out of your ass. ”
I chuckle.
“And what about Kitty? And my family?”
I didn’t mean to ruin his fantasy. Just felt like a joke, but as I see his eyes dull, I can tell I’ve upset him by reminding him that we have our lives to get back to.
“Being with you is the only time I can escape all that bullshit,” he says.
“I feel that way with you, too.”
He pulls me closer to him, not kissing me. Just gazing into my eyes.
I’m happy to stand like this, letting the water run across our bodies.
I don’t want to leave this moment. I want to cherish it.
When we finally pull ourselves from our pleasure, we head to the kitchen to have some breakfast with Nanna.
Tim makes us omelets while Kitty goes through the mail—a stack in front of her.
“Another bill,” she says. “This is a big one.”
Tim sets the omelet he’s finished on a plate. He turns off the eye on the stove, sets the pan down, heads to the table, and takes the letter from her. He studies it, his expression filled with concern.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“They keep sending this, and I’ve been trying to tell the hospital the insurance company is supposed to cover this shit.”
He sighs, and even though we haven’t been together that long, I recognize it from when I’ve caught him looking at other bills.
“It’s my fault,” Kitty says. “When Henry and I moved here back in the ’90s, I relied on him to take care of everything.
He didn’t have the best credit, so we bought the house under my name.
Didn’t realize that when he left, he’d be leaving behind all the debt…
and a mortgage that he didn’t tell me wasn’t being paid.
I thought he was, but he was just spending that money on blow. ”
Tim looks to me uneasily.
I’m sure if she knew what he was up to, she’d have a fit, not just because of what he’s doing, but because of her own experience and Tim’s experience with drug addicts.
“And then I dragged Timmy on into it,” she says.
I like it when she calls him Timmy. It makes him seem less like this big, macho man and more like a kid. He even gets this playful look in his eyes—one that reminds me of a look he gets when we’re having a lot of fun fucking.
“None of that’s your fault, Nanna,” Tim says. “It was that asshole Henry. If he hadn’t spent all those years lying to you, everything would have been fine.”
“I just figured he was being honest,” she adds. “I trusted him.”
I share another glance with Tim. We both seem uneasy about it.
Trust.
I’ve never trusted anyone, and I don’t think—from what Tim’s told me—he has, either.
There’s still a part of me that keeps warning me not to trust him.
But in a way, I have ever since that first fuck.
Even before I had any reason to. I trusted him with my body.
Trusted him not to take things too far. Not to hurt me physically.
Although I wasn’t as worried about that as I am now about him hurting my heart.
After we finish breakfast, Kitty heads to the store, and Tim calls the insurance company to follow up about the bill.
I sit on the couch in the living room, making my way through some homework on my laptop.
I can tell by his shouting that it isn’t going well, and soon he’s storming into the living room, his face red.
“What happened?”
“Now they’re saying it’s not a mistake,” Tim says. He’s just in sweats, the light from the front window illuminating his beautiful body.
“They said they’re not covering it because technically they didn’t authorize the fucking tests,” he continues, “even though the representative I talked to last time said that it was all covered.”
“What? Have you called your doctor?”
“Yeah. They’re about as useless. Giving me the run-around. And I can hardly pay off the fucking house with business like it is.”
He sounds disappointed, not with the situation, but with himself.
“You’re doing everything you can.”
“It’s some fucking bullshit. I thought I was going to get ahead of things this year.
I’ve knocked two liens off this house, and I thought with one to go, we’d be caught up in no time.
And with how well things were going two years ago, it felt like a fucking no-brainer, but this year is so fucking bad.
You’d think kids had stopped doing drugs. ”
“Well, I know that’s not true,” I joke.
“The market’s changed so much. I don’t want to have to…”
His words trail off. “Have to what?”
“My supplier told me I could get in on a pretty good deal—one that sounds pretty lucrative. I’d probably be able to pay off some of my debt if I did. Maybe even if I just did it for a little while.”
The way his gaze drifts off, I can tell he’s seriously considering it.
I set my laptop beside me.
“Come here,” I say.
He shakes out of his thought and approaches me, slumping down on the couch.
I take his hand, interlocking our fingers.
“I’m here, regardless of what you need to do,” I continue. “I got into this relationship with a drug dealer, and I know what that comes with.”
The way he eyes me, it’s clear he knows better. That I don’t know the half of it.
“You know what I mean,” I add.
“Yeah. No, I appreciate that. When I got into this business, I kept saying I’d be careful.
I’d keep it small-time. I don’t want to get in over my head.
That happens to a lot of guys in this business, and then you can’t really ever turn back.
The money gets good, and this shit becomes your whole life. ”
“You’re not going to do this for the rest of your life,” I say.
He smiles, and even though I detect his skepticism, I can tell he’s just glad to have someone here with him right now.
And I’m happy to be the one.
“God, it’s weird as fuck having a guy that I’m talking to about my business. I’ve always kept that to myself.”
“I’m just glad you’re talking to me about it.”
“Now I’m monopolizing the conversation. How’s waiting tables going?”
I roll my eyes as I launch into my own frustrations about closing the place on the days I work, but always having to work when people call out, bussing tables by myself.
I’m amazed when he listens to me complain about my stupid job when his issues are so much more serious, but he’s attentive and even laughs as I fuss about my coworkers.
And I notice as we chat, neither of us lets up our grip on the other’s hand.