Chapter Eight #3
“I bet it is.” I’m so engulfed in our conversation that it takes me a while to notice someone has stopped next to our table.
At first, I think it’s the server, but when I look up, it’s Stacey’s familiar eyes staring back at me.
Her arms are crossed over her chest, and there’s an air of tension around her.
I haven’t seen or spoken to her since we broke up.
I’ve avoided the hardware store, too, wanting to just give her some space.
I knew we’d run into each other eventually.
It’s unavoidable in a small town like ours.
Kayden stops talking mid-sentence and just glances between us.
“Well, this is fast even for you, Caleb,” she says, her voice sharp with an unusual coldness to it.
“Hi, Stace,” I sigh as I try to keep my voice calm.
Stacey narrows her eyes at me like she wants me to drop dead at her feet, then squish me under her boot like a bug.
It’s very likely that she does wish me dead.
Previous lovers have, even voicing it loudly in way too public places. ‘Just drop dead, Caleb!’
“You’re not a guy for wasting your time, are you, Caleb Morgan? Already found someone new, I see?” She looks at Kayden, giving him a quick once-over. “A little young even for you, don’t you think?”
Anger stirs inside me. Stacey can come at me all she wants. I probably deserve it. But Kayden has absolutely no part in this, and I refuse to let him become collateral damage, paying for my mistakes.
“What the hell are you talking about, Stace?” I try to keep my voice under control.
The last thing I want is a scene, especially not in front of Kayden.
“This is Sal’s kid.” Kayden winces at the kid, and I instantly regret it.
He’s far from a kid, but if he could just see that I’m trying to do damage control here, I think he’d understand.
“I mean, this is Kayden. You remember Sal’s son, right? ”
Stacey relaxes a little as she eyes Kayden. Then her expression softens. “Hi Kayden. I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you at first.” Her voice dips slightly, most of the anger now gone. “Welcome home.”
“Thanks,” he murmurs, pink spreading across his cheeks like a wildfire. I can’t tell whether he’s annoyed or embarrassed. Maybe both.
“You look great,” Stacey continues, her voice now slightly upbeat, and I wish she’d just go away. “How old are you now, Kayden?” Kayden. It rubs me the wrong way, hearing his name on Stacey’s lips.
“Twenty-two.”
“Oh em gee,” she squeals exaggeratedly, then places her hand on my shoulder nonchalantly. “Sooo young. Not like us oldies, right, Caleb?” She reaches for her blonde ponytail with her other hand and starts twirling it around her finger.
“Right,” I say, looking around for our server.
She leans toward Kayden like they’re old friends, her voice low and conspiratorial when she speaks. “Sorry about… I just thought… You know, no offense, it’s just that Caleb’s never single for long. Always on the lookout, right, Caleb? And since he swings both ways—”
“Enough!” I hiss, and a few other patrons look up from their meals, sending us curious looks. “Please, Stace. Not now. Not here.”
She pulls back slightly, then smiles at me.
“Sure. I think my food is ready anyway.” She waves her fingers at me.
“Catch ya later, Caleb. Nice seeing you again, Kayden. Enjoy your lunch. The fish burgers are really good.” Then she leaves, swaying her hips from side to side, an air of aloofness around her.
I’m left with this sour taste in my mouth because, as out of order as Stacey was, she’s not wrong.
I am that kind of guy. It’s just… hearing her say it in front of Kayden. Yeah, I didn’t like that at all.
“Sorry,” I murmur, brushing my hands along my thighs.
“It’s okay,” Kayden smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. We sit in silence until the server arrives with our food. Before she can place our plates in front of us, Kayden blurts, “Can we get these to go? I’m sorry, but I completely forgot I have to be somewhere.”
“Of course. Absolutely,” she smiles. “I’ll get these packed for you, and you can pick them up at the bar.”
“Thank you.”
As soon as she disappears, Kayden stands and slides out of his chair.
“Kayden.” I get up too and reach for him, but he steps away from me.
“It’s okay, Caleb. I’m really tired, you know.” He stares down at his sneakers, his shoulders slumped. “It’s been a busy week.” I don’t buy it for one second.
“Kayden, will you look at me? Please.”
He looks up, and it’s like he’s shut himself off from me, his face blank and expressionless. “I’m sorry, okay? I wish you hadn’t seen that. Stace is…” I sigh. “Things didn’t end well between us.”
“It’s none of my business,” he says flatly.
“I know, but I’m still sorry. I… I had a really nice time today. I was having a really nice time with you. Can we… Can we just pretend this didn’t happen?”
He doesn’t say anything, just plays with his earring, then squares his shoulders.
“Thank you for helping me out. I think I just want to go home. It’s not…
” He pauses, then eyes me through his thick eyelashes.
“I’m not mad or anything. I promise.” I can’t tell if he’s being truthful, but I guess I have to believe him.
“I’d just rather go home and relax. It’s been a long week. ”
“Okay.” My chest tightens. I fucking hate this.
I want to pull him against me and wrap him in my arms. I want to tell him that I don’t see him as a kid, far from it.
I want to tell him that everything’s better when he’s around and that, although Stace is right about a lot of things, she got one thing wrong.
I’m not on the lookout. I haven’t been since Kayden came back. He’s all I fucking think about.
We go grab the food, and I drive him home.
We unload the van, but Kayden insists that he can fit everything into the elevator and that he doesn’t need my help.
I don’t push it. He looks like he’s one second away from his breaking point, so I leave it at that.
When I get home, I put the food in the fridge.
I have no appetite, and instead, I just grab a beer and head straight for my bedroom.
I’m not even mad at Stacey anymore. I’m mostly mad at myself.
I should know better. Kayden’s too good for me.
Too young and too sweet. And vulnerable, a small voice inside my head says.
You’ll hurt him. You’ll break him. The last thing I need is to get involved with him.
He needs someone his own age, whom he can fall in love with and experience all his firsts.
I gulp down my beer, then kick off my shoes and lie down. I try to clear my mind of everything Kayden, but as soon as I close my eyes, he’s there, his sad blue eyes staring back at me. I need a fucking distraction. I need to lose myself in something uncomplicated and meaningless.
I grab my phone and pull up Pulse. I haven’t been on it all week. I open the chat with dicKmedown and type as if my life depends on it. Or my sanity, at least. This is so much better.
BigOnBacks: Distract me!
He isn’t online, though, and isn’t that just my fucking life?
Maybe I should go to Colchester next weekend and blow off some steam with some random guy.
Get back in the game, so to speak. Maybe I’m just in a funk.
People get funks, don’t they? Maybe I just need to reset my libido, although it seems to be working just fine when Kayden’s around.
No, it needs to be redirected. I open Google and type ‘how to redirect your libido’ in the search field.
I’m stunned when something actually comes up.
Scooting down on the bed, I start reading aloud.
“‘To stop thinking about sex, you must redirect your mental energy, not just suppress the thoughts. This involves using immediate pattern-interrupt techniques like mindfulness and physical activity, while addressing the underlying psychological triggers like stress or boredom.’”
I have no idea what that even fucking means. Mindfulness? Psychological triggers?
I’m about to type ‘how to stop lusting after your best friend’s son’ when a text from Sal comes in. That’s some weird shit. Does he have a sixth sense or something? Can Sal tell I’m thinking about Kayden? I open the text, expecting the worst.
Sal: Don’t forget Viv’s pots!
A relieved laugh shoots from my mouth. God old Sal.
I check Pulse again, but still nothing.
After a few minutes, I decide that today just isn’t my day, and I grab the remote and put on ESPN instead.
You can’t go wrong with sports, right? I don’t really follow any particular sport, but I do like watching the New England Patriots.
There’s a recap of one of their latest games, so I watch that and drowse a little.
I have no idea how much time has passed when my phone pings with a notification. I grab it sleepily and stare at the message.
dicKmedown: Tell me about it!
I rub my face, then reach for the remote and turn off the game.
BigOnBacks: Just a weird day, is all
dicKmedown: More like a weird kind of life
His reply stuns me. He’s usually very to the point and down to business. I’m not usually into swapping life stories in here, but something about his openness piques my interest.
BigOnBacks: Wanna talk about it?
dicKmedown: Nah. People are just assholes
BigOnBacks: Ouch!
dicKmedown: Yeah, well, present company excluded if you get me off
I smile at the screen. There he is. My dick thickens in my pants, and I rub across the front, tracing the outline with my fingers.
This is better. This is who I am. I’m casual and in it for a good time.
This is the real Caleb. Why even pretend that I’m someone else, that I could ever be someone else?
BigOnBacks: I can do that
dicKmedown: Cocky much?
BigOnBacks: Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea
dicKmedown: Please, whatever you call me, don’t call me sweetheart. Anything but that
Hmmm, that’s interesting, but I guess we all have our pet peeves.
BigOnBacks: Ahhh, okay. Bad juju?
dicKmedown: Juju?! How old are you exactly?
I snort, wondering exactly how old he is, then decide I don’t want to know. Keep it nice and simple, Caleb.
BigOnBacks: Old enough to not have jockstraps in all the fucking colors of the rainbow
dicKmedown: Ha ha, very funny
BigOnBacks: What color is it today?
I don’t know how I know this, but I’m absolutely certain he’s wearing one.
Like it’s part of his MO when he’s on the app, and maybe in real life too.
Suddenly, an image of Kayden in a sky-blue jockstrap flashes before my eyes, and I grow impossibly hard.
I quickly push back the image, focusing on the screen.
Commence Operation Redirection of Libido!
dicKmedown: Wise ass
BigOnBacks: So am I wrong then?
dicKmedown: Fine. Yellow
I smirk at the screen. Gotcha.
BigOnBacks: Don’t be shy. Show me
A few seconds go by, then a picture comes up, those now-familiar creamy-white globes taking over the screen.
It’s a light lemony yellow, and my mouth waters.
I feel like licking the screen to find out if it tastes like lemon, too.
If he tastes like lemon, all tangy and zesty.
My tongue prickles at the image, and my mouth fills with the taste of lemon pie with whipped cream, and I wonder what my spunk will look like, splayed all over his ass as it drips down his crack.
dicKmedown: You still with me, big guy?
I swallow back what feels like gallons of saliva.
BigOnBacks: Yeah. Nice
dicKmedown: Okay, enough with the fucking small talk. Get me da fuck off
I grin dopily at the screen as I pull down my zipper. My arousal fills the room, and warmth spreads through my body. Yes, this is what I need.
BigOnBacks: Absolutely, baby!
dicKmedown: Ugh, what’s with the fucking endearments! Shut your mouth and spit on my hole instead
Damn.