Chapter 19
Damon
“Ow, goddamn it!” Dad struggled to get out of his recliner where we’d settled him after his surgery. “Sharon! I need the dang TV remote!”
“It’s on your stand!” Mom called from the kitchen a few feet away.
“No, it’s not. I already—” He broke off with a curse and a groan.
“Dad, stop!” I bent over his chair, placing my hands on his shoulders. “The recliner will do the work for you, remember?” I reached down and hit the button on the side and the motor whirred, tipping the chair forward.
Dad grabbed onto my arms with a death grip as he came to his feet. His face went white with pain. I hated that he was suffering, but half of it was his own fault. He was a terrible patient.
“Don’t treat me like I’m feeble,” he muttered even as he clung to me for dear life.
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, tough guy, let me get your walker.”
“Now you’re just being mean,” he complained.
“I must be right on time,” Wendy said, letting herself in with Neil right behind her. “I’m the nice child. The one you love most.”
Dad chuckled. “That you are. You still think I’m tough, don’t you?”
“The toughest, Daddy. You’ll kick this surgery’s ass.”
I put the walker in front of Dad. “Want a bathroom break while you’re up? Then maybe we should put you to bed. I have to go soon.”
I’d spent the whole day getting the house ready—helping Mom move furniture around to make it easier for Dad to travel with a walker and not trip over anything—then getting him home and settled.
Mom was stressed out by Dad’s pain, so she’d been little help with that, hovering and asking him if he was okay every ten minutes until he told her to let him watch TV in peace.
She’d finally crashed for a long nap. I was sure she’d been up half the night before, worried about him, so she needed the rest.
Dad scowled and turned to my sister. “See what I have to put up with? Damon’s treating me like a toddler! It’s only eight p.m.”
“You’ve had a big day—”
“Something else you say to a toddler in need of a nap,” he grumbled.
“What do you want, Dad?” Wendy asked. “Let’s make it happen. I can send Neil out for ice cream.”
“See? This one gets it. I need junk food and comfort, not scolding and coddling.”
I turned an annoyed look at her, and she stuck her tongue out at me and singsonged, “I’m Daddy’s favorite.”
Mom came into the room, already dressed in pajamas and a robe. Thankfully, Dad was already wearing sweats and wouldn’t have to change for bed.
“Why is everyone standing around?” she asked.
“Good question,” I said. “Why were you getting up?”
“Uh…” Dad looked around, seeming a little lost. “I needed the TV remote.”
“But it’s on your stand,” Mom said, pointing.
Dad shook his head. “No, it’s not. I looked—oh.” Mom moved aside some mail, revealing it. “I guess it was there all along. All this fuss for nothing.”
“Want help back into the recliner?” I asked.
“Might as well pee while I’m up,” he mumbled, as if I hadn’t suggested that exact thing two minutes ago.
He used the walker to shuffle into the half bath attached to the living room.
While he was in there, I heard more cussing. Dad kept forgetting not to move in ways that hurt him. But it was only his first day home. He’d get the hang of it, and soon, he’d visit his doctor for physical therapy.
Fun times ahead.
“You guys can handle it from here?” I asked Wendy. “I’ve got an early morning for work.”
“Yeah, you did your time,” she said. “We’ll get him to bed and check in tomorrow.”
Wendy and I had worked out a plan to take turns stopping by to help Dad as he recovered. If Mom hurt herself trying to help him, she’d be going in for surgery next.
“I wanted to be here,” I said, “but Dad’s a little tired of me.”
Wendy grinned. “Well, I’ll enjoy being the favorite daughter while it lasts.”
“At least you can make Neil be the bad guy.”
Neil grimaced. “I hate being the bad guy.”
“Aw.” Wendy kissed his sulky mouth. “You’ll just have to take one for the team.”
“All right, I’m out then. Good luck with the grouch.”
“I heard that!” Dad called from the bathroom.
Mom hugged me. “Thanks for everything, honey.”
“No problem. I’ll stop in after work tomorrow.” I clapped Neil on the back, stuck my tongue out at Wendy, and headed home to catch some sleep.
When I pulled into the driveway, Maverick’s toy car was gone. Damn. He must have gone out. It was Sunday night, so maybe he’d be back soon.
I needed to kiss him again—if only to prove it hadn’t been some sort of wild fever dream. Needed his body against mine, the heat of him seeping into my every pore, his hot mouth driving me to distraction while he pushed his fingers inside of me.
Or maybe even something else.
My cock thickened a bit as I thought about it. It was probably good Maverick wasn’t here. I’d jump him instead of getting some sleep.
The sex with him had been incredible. Better than I ever would have expected. Way better than with my last girlfriend, which was a little disturbing. Like, had I just been going through the motions for years or what? Because Maverick set me on fire in a way no one had in a very long time.
I parked and headed for the porch, feet dragging after the long-ass day I’d had. My screen door was propped open. I narrowed my eyes. What had Maverick done now?
I couldn’t help but remember that damn sex toy he’d left me a couple of weeks ago. How things had changed. I’d never even entertained the thought of someone fucking me before. Then I’d used it, and now I couldn’t shake fantasies of the real thing with Maverick.
I approached my door with caution. A foil-topped casserole dish sat there, with a smaller plastic container beside it.
“What the…”
I crouched down for a closer look. There was a note. Maverick always had things to say when he pranked me.
Damon,
I made a lasagna for your parents. Please wish your dad a speedy recovery.
—Mav
My heart skipped. It wasn’t a prank at all. I leaned closer and inhaled. Yep. It really was lasagna. That was…sweet.
My gaze went back to the note, which had smaller text scribbled in, just barely fitting at the bottom.
P.S. My cookies are also for your dad since you won’t eat them.
I laughed out loud. He was giving me crap about our first meeting as neighbors, as he should.
I picked up his thoughtful gift and took it inside. Once I’d stashed the casserole in the fridge, I pulled out my phone and texted him.
Damon:
Do I need to be jealous of my dad now?
Maverick:
I don’t know. Do you?
Damon:
Pretty sure your cookies should be reserved for me.
Maverick:
You rejected my cookies last time I offered.
Damon:
My tastes have changed
Maverick:
Oh, really? So you do want my cookies?
Damon:
Heck yeah. Come home and I’ll show you how much.
Maverick:
Sorry, I’m out with my mom, and she’s had a lot of wine. I’m the DD.
Damon:
Damn, okay, I guess I’ll have to make do with your actual cookies then
Maverick:
Are you really going to steal cookies from your dad while he’s recovering?
Damon:
He won’t know what he’s missing, whereas I very much regret that I turned them down once before. I don’t want to miss my chance.
Maverick:
Give them to your dad. I’ll make more for you tomorrow. Come by after work?
Damon:
Gotta run by dad’s place, but how about we have dinner at 7?
Maverick:
Sounds good. What should I wear?
Damon:
Anything you want. Or nothing at all ;) I’m going to cook for you
Maverick:
Well, well. Don’t give me food poisoning and you just might get lucky again.
Damon:
Oh, don’t worry. You’ll definitely be kissing the cook.
Lyle hopped onto his tailgate during our lunch hour and unwrapped his sandwich, a dubious look on his face.
“Let me guess. Egg salad?”
“Ham salad this time.”
I cocked my head. “Sounds decent.”
He immediately held it out. “Trade me?”
I snorted. I’d packed up my leftover summer sausage and cheeses from the picnic I’d made for Mav. No way I was handing that over for ham salad. “Not on your life.”
“So mean.”
“But I’ll share.” I opened up my cooler and pulled out my Tupperware full of sliced meat and cheese.
“I knew you weren’t the shitty friend everyone claimed.”
I laughed as I pulled off the lids between us. “Nice. Thanks a lot.”
Lyle popped a bite of jalapeno-cheddar summer sausage into his mouth and chewed. I picked up a couple of slices of gouda.
We ate in silence for a few minutes, sipping from bottles of water between bites. My mind drifted back to Saturday night, gut tightening as I thought about Maverick. With any luck, I’d finally get my hands on him again tonight, get to kiss him and touch him some more.
As much as I wanted that, it made me nervous, too. I didn’t have the best track record with women, so why did I think it would be any better with a man? Fuck, what if it was worse?
Lyle kicked my foot. “What’s up with you today?”
“What do you mean?”
“You seem distracted.”
“Oh. Well…” Lyle waited while I paused, unsure what to say. But hell, I needed to talk to someone. “I hooked up with Maverick.”
“Ah.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Ah. That’s it? You don’t seem surprised.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “You were pretty interested in his dates. We tried to tell you there might be a deeper reason for that.”
I huffed. “Yeah, so you’re all smarter than me. I knew that already.”
“It’s not about smarts. You can’t see it until you’re ready.” He nudged me. “So, are you ready?”
I hesitated. “I think so.”
“If you’re having doubts, you need to be honest with him.”
“No, it’s nothing like that. The sex was great, and realizing I’m bi is kinda weird but like, so what, right? You’re bi too. I can handle that. I just…I suck at dating, Lyle.”
“Oh.”
“Not a little either. I suck a lot. Like, I get my shit thrown into the street. My exes never speak to me again and trash my name all over town. I’m a huge asshole, apparently, and I don’t want that for Maverick. I mean, I’ve already spent enough time being a dick to him. He deserves better.”
Lyle slid another slice of sausage into his mouth, then hummed. “If you care that much, I don’t think it’ll be the same with him.”
“It’s not that simple, though, is it? I mean, I thought I cared about my last girlfriend.”
“Did you really, though?” He arched an eyebrow. “I remember you being pretty cavalier about your relationship. You were bailing on her to go out for beers pretty often.”
I winced. “Not making me feel any better.”
“Do you want to spend time with Maverick?”
“Of course I do.”
“Just for sex?”
“No. He’s smart as hell. Sassy, you know? He’s got this sharp tongue. Whenever I rile him up, he fires right back, and…”
“And he can handle you, huh?” Lyle said with a grin. “He’s your match?”
“Maybe,” I murmured.
“So, don’t fuck it up.”
“That easy, huh?”
“No.” Lyle hopped off the pickup truck. “It’s that hard. But if you like him, it’ll be worth it. As for the being with a guy thing…”
“Yeah?”
“It’s not really that different. Be considerate. Communicate. Be honest about what you need and try to give him what he needs. If you do those things, you can build something really great.” He smacked my arm. “Think you can handle acting like a grown-up for a change?”
I smiled sheepishly. “I want to try.”
“That’s a good start.”