Chapter 17 #3
I make it to the bathroom and let myself stand under the spray for a long time.
I tell myself I’m not avoiding an awkward morning-after—I refuse to be awkward with Robbie, for fuck’s sake—I’m just loosening up my stiff muscles.
But nevertheless, by the time I’m showered and dressed in my jeans and one of Robbie’s T-shirts, he’s already showered, dressed, and sitting on a stool in the warm, sunny kitchen, drinking coffee .
“So.” I give him a teasing smile. “You are killing these lessons, huh? A very advanced student.”
Robbie glances up from his coffee, and his green eyes flash with something like disappointment before he forces a smile.
“Glad to hear it,” he says mildly.
Pain and panic wash through me. You’re hurting him, Ames. You’re hurting him right now.
That’s the last thing I want. But what the fuck am I supposed to do here?
“I’m sorry,” I manage. “I, uh. I know that was your first time having anal with a man. Was it… did you… How are you feeling about it?”
“Well.” Robbie takes a sip of coffee, then sets the mug down. “It was the best sex of my life.” His eyes meet mine. “The best. Bar none.”
My mouth goes dry. “Oh. Uh. Okay. That’s… good.”
“I can already see the hamster wheel turning in your brain, baby.” He chuckles softly. “So, yes, maybe it’s because it was a new thing. But I doubt that. I’ve had a lot of sex before. I’ve tried a lot of new things.”
I lick my lips. Have I mentioned how annoying it is to be so well-known? It’s really fucking annoying. It’s also annoying to hear him refer to all the sex he’s had with anyone not me.
“And sure, maybe it’s because guys are just so hot. And the experience is different when you feel like you can be a little rougher.” He shrugs. “But mostly, it’s because I was having sex with you , and I’m wildly, passionately, I-don’t-know-how-the-fuck-I-didn’t-see-it-before in love with you.”
I swallow hard. “You say that, Robbie, but?— ”
“Fuck.” He blows out a breath. “I really thought we’d gotten past this last night.”
“Past what?” My voice is high and defensive.
“Past the fact that it’s still only been two weeks since you broke up with your fiancée?
Past the fact that the sum total of your experience of sex with men is me ?
The facts are the facts, Robbie. And you might be fine with just…
just… yeeting yourself willy-nilly into a new relationship right away, but that’s because you have me to be cautious for both of us, okay? ”
His jaw firms. “Didn’t ask you to do that, Ames. In fact, I specifically said?—”
“I know what you said! But I love you. I love us . And I just… I keep thinking, you didn’t know you were attracted to guys until you realized that you were attracted to me.
So how do you know you’re not going to… to change your mind again and realize things are simpler with a woman?
That you’ll be able to have those kids you dream of, and the picket fence life you want, a whole lot more easily?
How do you know you wouldn’t like sex even better with the next guy you—? ” I break off and clack my teeth shut.
“The next guy I… what? Date? Fuck?” Robbie tilts his head and watches me carefully. Then he nods once. “I see.”
“You see?” I repeat, instantly suspicious. “See what? What do you see?”
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and taps the screen.
“What are you doing?” I demand, coming around his side.
“Downloading the Tapper app.”
My stomach drops. “You… what?”
He shrugs. “If you think I need experience with other guys before I can be sure, I’ll get some. How hard can it be, right? I’ve heard you and your brothers talk about the apps.”
My lips feel a little numb. “For you? Not hard at all,” I say faintly.
Sure enough, there’s a distinctive blurp from his phone. Robbie taps away, face unreadable. Then he chuckles. “I’m using the ab shot I sent you the other day with the blue underwear as my profile pic.”
I want to grab his phone and chuck it down the garbage disposal. I want to scream that was my picture, that those abs and that dick belong to me .
But I can’t. Obviously. Because this is exactly what I wanted.
Sort of.
Or, okay, not wanted , exactly, but what I expected. The eventuality I was planning for.
And probably, knowing Robbie, he’s doing this to prove a point and make me jealous. To see if he can get me to back down.
Well, no dice.
“Sure,” I manage, grabbing the orange juice from his fridge. “That’ll work. I thought it was hot.”
He swipes through the app while I pour my drink, and I hear him chuckle and murmur to himself.
“Do I like primal play? I dunno. I don’t think so, but by the Ames Axford rules, I guess I have to try it before I can say that, kinda like with cabbage when I was a kid, so…”
I watch in low-key horror as he shrugs and taps something on the screen.
A minute later, he laughs out loud. “Oh my god! I recognize those abs. That’s Rocco from Watchfire!” He whistles under his breath. “Dude. I had no idea what he was packing under those chef’s whites.”
I clutch my juice glass hard. I refuse to look. I refuse to be baited. I refuse to ask how Robbie recognizes Rocco’s abs. Also, if I picture Robbie and Rocco together, Holden will have to arrest me for murder, and I can’t do that to him.
Yes, I’m aware that my visceral reaction makes no sense. But being aware that I am literally authoring my own misfortune right now changes nothing.
Robbie chuckles again and tucks his tongue between his teeth as he taps. I know he’s sent a message because a second later, his phone chirps with a reply.
Well, how nice . Rocco’s scheduled to open this morning. Is this what he does at work?
“Good god. I had no idea it was this easy to get someone to offer to fuck you,” Robbie marvels, genuinely surprised. “Technology, huh?”
To fuck you ? I want to ask. Or to be fucked? Just how advanced a degree is he going for?
Doesn’t matter. None of my business.
“Is this what you want, Ames?” he asks, suddenly sounding serious.
I avoid his eyes as I answer. “I mean, obviously. Yeah.” Which is somehow easier than saying I’d rather be pecked in the eyeballs by rabid crows than have him meet someone else for sex.
His eyes sear the side of my face before he blows out a breath and smiles again. “Okay, then. That’s what I’ll do.”
I speak carefully to keep my voice from sounding strangely pitched or wobbly. “Right, well. I need to get going. Can you drive me home? ”
“Of course.” He tucks his phone away and gives me a smile.
It’s his Robbie smile. The natural, truly happy one that always spears my heart. The one that says he loves me, even when I’m being unreasonable.
Now that I’ve seen that smile on his face while he has my dick in his mouth, it punches extra hard.
The drive to Watchfire is mostly silent, and I am beyond ready to escape by the time he pulls up in front of the restaurant.
“Oh, hey,” he says as I slide down. “Just so you know, I have plans tonight.”
The ground rushes up to meet me extra hard.
“Plans?”
“Yeah,” he says, faintly apologetic. “At seven. So if you were hoping to grab dinner or whatever…”
“Oh.” My voice sounds hollow to my own ears. “No. I mean, yeah. I mean… that’s great. For you. I might make some plans too.”
Robbie grins and shoots me a wink. “I’m hoping you do.”
By the time the dinner rush rolls around, I am in possibly the worst mood of my life. Worse than the time junior year when Holden told Patrick Minehan I still cried during The Lion King .
Everything Rocco does is wrong. That’s a given. His pesto is salty. His chowder’s not salty enough. His shaping of the bread dough for our rustic boules is too boule -ish and not rustic enough .
“Boss,” Rocco says carefully after he clocks out. “You sure you’re feeling okay?”
“I’m peachy ,” I snap. The man has no idea how close he’s come to being fired a thousand times over for gross negligence today.
He’s a terrible chef. The worst.
How I’ve employed him for four years without realizing it is beyond me.
He exchanges a shrug with one of the line cooks and skedaddles. I can’t say I blame him.
But of course, once he’s gone, the torture only intensifies.
Is he going straight to Robbie’s house? Probably not, since Robbie said seven.
Is he heading there now? Is he knocking on the door?
Is Robbie leading him inside to the sofa, where we’ve spent a hundred evenings, or the bedroom, where last night he?—
I can’t. I literally cannot think of this.
Jana finally coaxes me to tend the bar for a little while—a job I can do one-handed… sort of—which is probably safer for everyone. That’s where I’m standing when Perky Halloran walks up, big glasses glinting and mustache twitching up in a smile.
“Ames!” he says. “How’s the arm?”
“Fine,” I mutter. “What can I get you?”
“Not a thing! Not a thing. I’m just here picking up a takeout order, and Jana said it’ll be out in a minute. Poor David has to work late tonight, so I’m bringing him a treat.”
I make a grumpy harrumphing noise that reminds me of my own father—a sobering notion. “So he’s poor David now? Last time we talked, he’d donated your romance novel, and he was public enemy number one. ”
Perky blinks at me, then laughs delightedly. “Oh, that . Of course, I forgave him ages ago. To err is human, as they say.”
“Just like that, huh?”
“Well, not just like that. I was mad for a solid week.” Perky’s nose wrinkles like a rabbit’s. “You may not know this about me, kiddo, but I can be a trifle… dramatic . ” He says the last word in a hushed whisper. “I can even overreact from time to time.”
“You don’t say.”
“Mmm. David says it’s because I have a romantic soul and feel things deeply.”
I huff. “I bet.”
“David’s a wonderful man. The rock to my storm, as it were. And I try not to take that for granted. But when you’ve been together as long as we have, one does sometimes want to feel… seen. Coveted. Chosen .”