Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
CURTIS
I watch Finn’s face as I hit the Post button on our video. It slowly morphs from nervous to downright regretful, and when he starts pacing, I know it’s time to get out of here.
“Let’s go out this afternoon.”
“You want to go out at a time like this?” he shrieks. It’s adorable.
“At a time like what? It’s midafternoon, and according to my data analysis, most of my viewers are North American, and they watch in the late hours of the night. The only people horny at this time are in Australia, and I barely have any subscribers from there.”
“But you have some. So theoretically, someone on the other side of the world could be staring at my dick at this very moment.”
I try not to laugh. “That’s … one way to look at it.”
“Is it too late to take it down?”
“It’s never too late if that’s what you actually want.”
“I think I need some gentle pressure again.”
I stand and approach him, putting my hands on his shoulders. “You’ve got this. It’s done now, it’s fine, your world isn’t ending—”
“I know, but … what if they hate it? What if I’ve single-handedly made every one of your subscribers leave you?”
“For someone with confidence issues, you’re giving yourself a lot of credit.”
“I’m serious.”
“Look, I try not to think of the numbers as actual people. I lose subscribers every single video I do, but unless it’s a huge loss of following, I know it most likely has nothing to do with me.
People’s financial situations change all the time.
They get into a relationship and don’t need my company anymore.
There are a lot of reasons why someone would unsubscribe from my page, and I learned a long time ago not to take it personally.
I don’t dwell on it, and I’m not going to let you either.
So I’m going to take you out. Distract you. ”
He slowly nods. “O-okay.”
As much as I’m framing this as a way to help distract him, that’s not the full story.
As professional as I’ve kept things, it’s impossible to forget I’ve been studying his dick for the last hour or so, and I really, really enjoyed it.
I need to get Finn out of my bedroom and away from my bed as quickly as possible before I give in to my urges and distract him with my cock.
Not that necessarily getting him away from my bed could stop me. I could fuck him against a wall, on my couch, kitchen counter …
Right. Leaving. Distraction.
Come on, Curtis. One foot in front of the other.
Oh, thank God, Finn leads the way. For a second, I wasn’t sure I could get my feet moving.
I grab my wallet, keys, and phone and head for the door.
“Where are you going to take me?”
That’s a good question. Where am I going to take him? Again, the floor, the kitchen counter—I’m not doing this again.
Where’s the least sexy place I can think of?
My stomach ties in knots as the answer to that jumps out at me and flashes like a bright neon light. Then the guilt hits because I can never predict how Beth is going to be on any given day, which makes me anxious about seeing her. It makes me not want to go.
I thought with David moving home that this feeling of obligation mixed with dread would lighten, but the truth of the matter is Beth was more of a mother to me than my biological mother, so that sense of owing her will always be there.
I owe her everything but can give her nothing. If I could take her Alzheimer’s for her, put it in my brain, I would. But I can’t. It makes me feel so damn powerless.
All I can do is be there and show her the care she gave to me and continues to give to me.
Unlike my parents, who stuck by the eighteen-year rule when it came to taking responsibility—and I use that word loosely—Beth is still here for me, even when she doesn’t know what year it is, where she is, and eventually, when she won’t remember who I am.
“Curtis?” Finn breaks me out of my depressing train of thought.
“I’m going to take you to the place where I am guaranteed not to think about sex.”
We get to my car in the parking lot, and Finn has his lips pursed.
Before we get in, he says, “All I can come up with is funeral home, but that might come in handy for when you check your Money Shot account and see you’ve lost thousands of dollars because of me. Maybe they’ll have a ready grave I can crawl into.”
I refrain from freaking him out more by telling him that in the two minutes since picking up my phone, it has vibrated nonstop with Money Shot alerts, and not of the DM kind. Of the monetary kind. I have the alert on for every time I get an extra tip.
They used to give me a buzz, but now it’s same shit, different day. Though knowing this is all new for Finn has that happy buzz filling my veins once again.
“You’re being dramatic.”
“Your face is being dramatic,” he mumbles.
“Get in the car. We’re not going to a funeral home.”
Though, depending on Beth’s state and mood, it could be just as depressing as one.
David and I have started talking about assisted-living homes for her, but that idea makes my skin crawl.
Like it does every time I drive over to Beth’s house lately, my body is in an elevated state of nerves. I ask the same question before every single visit. Will it be a good day or a bad day?
And as we pull up to her house, my heart sinks because I already have that answer.
The front door is wide open, but she’s nowhere to be seen. She’s not in the front yard, on the porch … My gaze ping-pongs up and down the street, but nothing.
My only hope is that she’s inside and has forgotten to close the door.
I’ve barely parked, ass of the car still sticking out on the road, when I jump out and run inside the house.
The smell is horrible, like an animal has died somewhere in the walls, and for the briefest of seconds, I can’t help fearing if she did something to herself—took away her pain so she would no longer burden us with it.
What’s worse is for an even shorter second, I think I’d be relieved if that were the case.
I’m immediately horrified by the thought.
I don’t want that, obviously. Fuck no. No. But goddamn, brain, did you have to take it there? Pain and regret sink through me because I love her. So much. And this isn’t the type of thing anyone should have to deal with.
I check the downstairs area first and find the source of the smell in the kitchen.
Leftover food is in the sink with unwashed plates, but that’s not where the stink is coming from. It’s coming from a piece of raw meat on the counter that’s been there for God knows how long, rotting away. It’s covered in maggots, and I gag as I get closer to it.
The whole kitchen is a nightmare of bacteria, and I hope she hasn’t eaten any of that meat. I can’t even tell what animal it came from, it’s that bad.
I should be coming over more. I need to put aside my anxiety over losing her slowly, day by day, and show up. So should David.
If this disgusting scene is any indication, someone needs to come see her every day.
I need to call David, but first, I need to find her.
Upstairs is a mess, not kitchen levels of messy, but still pretty bad. And Beth is nowhere in sight.
I check everywhere, the backyard, the garage, the side of the house—nothing. She’s gone.
I’m on the verge of panic, unsure what to do first. Call David or call the police?
It’s only then that I realize Finn is also gone. Did he come inside? Is he still sitting in my car?
I figure if I find him, we can make a call each, but back out the front, my car is now missing too.
Okay, what the fuck is happening? Did the Bermuda Triangle move five thousand kilometers and is making everything I care about disappear?
And yes, I realize I lumped Finn in with that, but now’s not the time to dwell over the feelings I don’t want to have but do anyway.
I take out my phone to call David, ignoring the Money Shot app with a gazillion notification numbers in that ugly red circle, but as it starts to ring, my car turns the corner back onto the street.
I can’t see until it gets closer that Finn’s behind the wheel, and beside him in the passenger seat … I release a loud, relieved breath and hit End on my unanswered call.
Finn pulls the car into the driveway, parking a hell of a lot straighter than I did before.
He gets out, but Beth stays in the car.
“I tried calling out to you when you ran into the house. Your neighbor across the street flagged me down to say they think they saw Beth a couple of blocks away. When they saw her door was wide open, they were about to call you and get back in their car to look for her.”
I’m so relieved I could cry.
But even with that relief, this isn’t over.
Beth is still in the car, looking out the windshield at the house with a frown line in her brow.
“Hey,” Finn says soothingly. He’s suddenly in front of me, comforting hands on my shoulders. “She’s okay.”
I swallow hard because she isn’t. She really isn’t.
“Inside is a complete mess,” I say. “She has raw meat on the kitchen counter that has to have been sitting there for days.”
“When I pulled up beside her, she didn’t recognize me. I know she’s only met me a few times, but it took a bit of convincing to get her in the car.”
“Yet, she still got in with you, even though she didn’t think she knew you.” I hang my head in my hands. “What do we do?”
“Firstly, let’s get her inside, make her some tea, clean up for her, and let her mind rest. Did you want to sit with her while I clean, or do you need me to sit with her while you keep busy?”
“You sit with her. I’ll clean. I want to be here for her, but … am I a completely horrible person for not wanting to talk to her when she’s like this? It breaks my heart, and I know that’s selfish, but—”
His hands run down my arms and squeeze me reassuringly above the elbows.
“Do you remember what I told you that night we met? About how Alzheimer’s and dementia can be harder on family members than those who have it?
It’s okay to need to step back for a second.
It’s okay to grieve what she’s going through and what it’s doing to you.
The important part is you come back to her when you can.
You go and get started on cleaning, and I’ll see if I can convince her this is her house. ”
Fuck. “She doesn’t even recognize the house she’s lived in for thirty years?”
“She will. Eventually. Her brain needs some rest. Just like your worry for her needs a break too. I’ve got this.”
Despite being right that this was the least sexy place to take him, the way he’s taking control has me possibly more attracted to him than I have been to date.
Beth’s illness isn’t the only thing I need to protect my heart from. My growing emotional connection to Finn is also right up there.
Just another thing that will inevitably turn to shit.