Chapter 36
Simmons
He commented once about how reckless I am by being home with my door unlocked, as if I haven’t picked up on the pattern of his appearance and only leave it unlocked for him.
“I can’t understand a word, Freddie,” I laugh as he gives me a pointed stare.
“That’s what the subtitles are for!” he giggles as he grabs the remote from my hand. “Do not turn it off; it’s making me nostalgic. I can explain any jokes you don’t get. And don’t pout, I’m supposed to be the brat here,” he says as he pumps his eyebrows at me.
Lunging across the couch, I grab him and hold tightly to stop him wriggling away from me. We are panting, sweaty and laughing by the time he gives in to me. I kiss his temple, then sit back up.
“Okay, what’s so good about it?” I ask as I drag him into my lap.
We are both naked in my living room. The blinds are closed.
The TV is on with some show that Freddie grew up watching called Chewin’ the Fat, and he has been trying to explain what the hell is going on in the sketch show for an hour.
We both discovered that at home, we hate clothes, so we have taken to lounging naked on the large L-shaped royal blue sofa whenever Freddie is here. I love it.
I wish this could be us every night. Freddie has made himself at home here, and although some would say he is brash or too much, he is exactly who I want and need him to be. To take what is his, regardless of whether that is the last beer in my fridge or my heart.
“Well, it’s old but gold. My granny would laugh at the most inappropriate parts, and it always made me and my sisters laugh cause she was a proper wee lady.
She would skelp the back of our heads if we even swore.
So seeing her laugh at a wee guy getting a hard on is ridiculous,” he says, but his stare is a million miles away with his family and his memories.
It’s so sweet that I reach out and rub my thumbs on his cheeks, then his lips, and leave them either side of his neck as he tells me about his sisters and how his parents are still so adorably in love.
“It’s cheesy, but it’s what I want. Watching my Ma and Da together makes my heart yearn for the same. But I will never ever admit that to them, so never repeat it,” he warns me with a sweet look through his eyelashes and his finger poking my chest.
“Swear I won’t,” I whisper against his lips. He looks down with a sigh and then leans his head on my chest. Playing with the hair there, I think he’s fallen asleep, but then he looks up and licks his lips.
“Tell me about your family, any annoying siblings?” My eyes crinkle as I grin and think about my family and how broken they are compared to Freddie’s.
I don’t feel sorry for myself or anything, but I also don’t want to burst our bubble here with sad stories of parents who aren’t around.
So I squeeze him and move us so we are side by side.
“Not much to tell. Dad is remarried, and Mom is in a facility that cares for her around the clock. Want to order Thai?” I look from the spot above the TV that I was staring at to the boy of my dreams beside me. He gives me a sad smile but nods at my change of subject.
“Okay. But I will milk more information about your life out of you at some point, Simmons. Like is that even your first name? Or is it your last? Oh my god, are you like Cher?” He shoves my shoulder to stand and wanders through to the kitchen and opens the wine fridge.
Grabbing glasses, I uncork it and pour us a glass each.
“I’m not Cher. My real name is Ridge. I hate it though, and I’ve been called Simmons my whole life.” Freddie’s whole face lights up, and I find myself shaking my head but grinning like a fool as I hide behind my glass.
“Ridge?! Wow. I love it. Love, love, love it. Can I call you it on special occasions? Like your birthday next year? I’ll make you a cake with Ridge on the front and sit on that one too,” he giggles. I round the island and grab him as he places his glass down rapidly to stop it from falling.
“You gonna be here for my next birthday, brat?” I ask because I’m a glutton for punishment and need to know. He blinks, then straightens himself up.
“Um, I don’t know, actually. Did you order the food?
Suppose one of us will have to be dressed to answer the door so I’ll just go grab my clothes,” he says, then he’s off down the hall and leaving me wondering once again what in the fuck I’ll do when he leaves here and heads back to his real life.
Seems we are both avoiding the inevitable.