Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
“This isn’t the dark ages, man,” Bear says as I dump the box of macaroni into the pot of boiling water. “You don’t need permission to date each other.”
“He’s still my boss.” I give the pasta a stir then set the timer and lean back against the counter. I should be on my way to the Methodist church for the AA meeting I promised to attend, but I took Jasper on a ride to clear my head then dawdled instead.
“So? You’re the best thing that’s ever gonna happen to his daughter. If he doesn’t see that, he’s not as smart as you say.”
The steel band around my chest softens a little. “Now who’s flirting?”
“It’s true, asshole.”
I laugh, but it feels hollow. Just because his date wanted to stay the night and into the next day doesn’t mean I’m somehow lacking. Building the life I want isn’t going to happen overnight.
“She thinks we should slow down.” The words are so bottled up after my phone call with Linnea earlier that they come out in a rush.
“I can hear your negative self-chatter through the phone lines. Quit it. I’d argue that it’s a sign she cares. Especially after starting things off with such a wild set of circumstances. It makes sense that she’s wanting to reel in some control.”
“Or it’s the lead up to her ending things.”
“But you don’t really know that, do you?”
“Right.” He sounds like Dr. Keats, and it pisses me off, though it’s not his fault.
When I reach into the fridge for the milk and butter, the case of beer on the bottom shelf with its cheerful red packaging is like a giant neon sign.
Just one beer. Nobody would miss one beer.
I slam the fridge shut. Why the hell didn’t I go to that meeting?
“Her ex wasn’t just your average dickweed,” Bear continues.
“Maryanne said he started off all sweet and normal, but over time, things changed. Almost like the guy had a plan. It got harder and harder to get ahold of her. He convinced her to stop coming home for the holidays. To quit doing the things she loved. Make her question her goals and dreams. It sounds like emotional abuse. So it makes total sense that this is scary for her. But it’s also really fucking beautiful that she’s bringing you along for the ride. ”
I rub my hands over my face and comb my mustache with my fingertips so I don’t throw the milk across the kitchen. “It’s too bad this cat’s left town because I’d like to teach him some manners.”
“And I’d help,” he says in a firm tone. “Meanwhile, you continue being the man your girl needs.”
My girl. The longing to make those words true stings like a burn. “How do I do that?”
“Fuck if I know. I’m the last guy you should take relationship advice from.”
That steel band softens another notch. “I like Maryanne.”
He grunts. “Who would have thought I’d fall for a teacher. I hated school.”
“Maybe you just needed the right kind of instruction.” I scoop up a single shell from the bubbling pot of pasta and blow on it.
His laugh is a deep rumble. “Get your mind outta the gutter.”
“I’m still trying to forget the sounds of rapture you two were making up in that loft.”
“Oops,” he says with another laugh. “You and Linnea weren’t exactly quiet either. My neighbors gave me the dirtiest looks this morning.”
I bite back my smile. “Not gonna apologize for that one, sorry.”
“Keep me posted, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Later, after scarfing down my dinner and cleaning up followed by my weekly check-in call with my grandparents, I lock myself in the bathroom for a quick shower before bed.
But underneath the spray, all I can think of is Linnea.
How good she felt in my arms. How I couldn’t get enough of her.
The way our bodies moved in synch. Her soft, playful kisses.
The way she came from the right amount of friction, braced off the wall and my thumb circling her backdoor.
That she likes my touch in such a forbidden place has me in a chokehold.
Unable to stop myself, I spit into my hand and pump my fist down my length, imagining all the ways I want her.
On my bed, her hair splayed on the pillows, on her knees gazing up at me with desire in her pretty eyes.
Bent over a hay bale, her jeans bunched at her shins.
With my face buried in her pussy, her taste on my lips.
I explode in my fist, panting, aftershocks rattling down my thighs.
As my stuttered breaths echo against the tile walls, I try to convince myself that I can be the man Linnea needs because it’s exactly the kind of man I aspire to be. Patient, humble, honest, kind. Confident. Strong.
But what if that isn’t enough?