Chapter Eighteen
Two
“I’m going to be late,” I murmur, unable to keep my tongue out of her mouth long enough for her to give a response.
After class, we found our way into my car since we had a few minutes to spare before I needed to leave for my appointment. A few minutes turned into several and now I can’t stop kissing her.
Finally, Gemma has the strength to break away, flashing me a sweet smile that promises more later.
How much later?
Where will we go so we’re not bothered by anyone?
“Hemingford Hall later this afternoon?” I ask, voice raspy with need. “So we can work on our project.”
Truth is, our project is coming along nicely. The past couple of nights spent talking all night, we also worked on it. Our other classes may be suffering from our heated romance, but not my favorite one. It’s most definitely just an opportunity to spend some alone time with her.
“I’ll meet you there this time,” she says, nodding. “Mom is getting nosy.”
I cup her cheek with my hand. “Drive in circles if you have to if someone is following you.”
“I will. I’ll be careful.”
My eyes drop to her lips and she licks them, making the growing need for her spike to unhealthy levels. Before I can maul her again with my mouth, she gives me a small wave and climbs out of the vehicle. The slamming car door jolts me out of my Gemma haze. Surely I’ll get her out of my system soon and can think straight again.
She presses her nose to the glass of my driver’s side window and makes a silly face. I playfully thump the glass where her nose is earning a loud laugh that has me grinning.
Okay, so maybe I’ll never think straight again with her in my presence.
I wait, despite being super late, for her to get into her vehicle. Once she drives off, I follow her out of the parking lot and then head for my appointment with Tate. This time, he’s already there. I bound out of my vehicle and rush inside, chasing the scent of coffee and butterscotch. When I reach his office, I’m glad to see he hasn’t turned on the fireplace and is just setting his stuff down.
Not that late.
“Hey,” I greet as I make my way over to the fireplace. I crank it up despite the fire burning in my chest. “Bring me something good?”
Tate walks over to me and thrusts a cup at me. “Your fave.” He pauses to look me over. “You’re…different today. What’s up?”
I bristle at his observation and take my time sipping the butterscotch goodness. “Nothing.”
Tate snorts out a laugh. “Liar! Your hair is messier than usual and you have pink lipstick all over your mouth!”
Bringing my hand to my lips, I try to hide a smile at the thought of her leaving her mark on me. She was certainly mussed up when I was done with her. Apparently, she did the same to me.
“Please tell me it’s Golden,” Tate says, practically bouncing in his chair. “Please.”
“It’s Golden.”
He shrieks with happiness, making my ears hurt and my entire body cringe. Tate continues to do a giddy little dance in his chair, pleased as punch.
“I knew it.” He waggles a finger at me. “I’m great at reading people.”
“I didn’t like her at first,” I argue, though the attempt is lame. “She grows on you.”
“Trust me, I know the feeling.” He takes another sip of his coffee, eyes twinkling with delight. “Tell me how you got from Friday to today and everything in between.”
So I regale him with all the details, leaving out some of the moments like her shirt coming off and us getting caught. I also don’t tell him about the stalker because it’s none of his business. By the time I finish, we’re nearing the end of our session and he’s glowing with happiness. I guess I am too.
“This is great,” Tate says. “You really put yourself out there with her and got to know her. She sounds like a sweet girl.”
“Yeah, I suppose she is.”
Tate, the emotional hound dog, leans in with his eyebrows furled together. “I’m sensing a but. Or maybe some hesitation on your part still. There’s more you haven’t told me, right?”
The last thing I want to do is go into the drama of all that.
“This thing between us,” I say with a huff, “isn’t ideal. It’s kind of fucked up, really. Our parents can’t know.”
As soon as I blurt the last part out, I wish I could reel it back in.
“She’s not eighteen?”
“No, she is,” I grunt. “It’s other stuff.”
“Hmm.” Tate studies me long enough for me to fidget in my seat. “Other stuff you don’t want to tell me about?”
“Not really.”
“Two,” he says slowly, “are you sure you’re not making it out to be a bigger deal than it is? This other ‘stuff’?” He reaches over and touches my arm. “Imagine, just for a moment, the worst-case scenario. You introduce her to your dads. What does that look like for you?”
I close my eyes and imagine me and Gemma kissing in my car. Then I see myself holding her hand as I bring her onto the porch. Dad greets us at the door, thrilled that I’ve actually brought home a girl. Pops is waggling his brows at me from behind him, letting me know she’s cute and I did well. I’m proud to have her beside me.
Until I introduce her.
Gemma Park.
The Gemma they almost had from their past.
My twisting gut has my eyes popping back open. “They’ll be hurt. I can’t bear seeing pain in their eyes. It’s too much.”
“Okay,” Tate says in a soothing voice. “It’s okay. We’ll explore this some more Wednesday if you’d like. Maybe we can figure something out that doesn’t hurt the ones you love.”
Ideally, I should just break contact with Gemma and put this whole thing behind me. But I don’t want to do that. I actually like kissing her and talking to her and spending time with her. That’s what makes this all so fucking stressful.
“Think about it,” he urges. “I think exploring this and working it out is important for your happiness. Holding it all in and keeping it a secret is going to become a heavy burden causing strain on your mental well-being.”
He has one thing right.
I’m feeling the strain and it sucks.
“Which do you prefer?” Dad asks, showing me two different wallpaper samples. “Understated or bold?”
I bounce my gaze between the two samples and then hand him the bold, geometric gold pattern on black. “I like this one.”
Dad grins. “Me too. I was hoping you’d say that. Your father, on the other hand, is going to be miffed. If we go with this design, then I’m going to have him replace their tub because it’s black and clashes with the matte color of the wallpaper.”
“Where is Pops?”
“He’s out doing a bid. We were thinking of grabbing Chinese later and watching movies on Netflix. You joining us?” He clasps his hands and places them under his chin before batting his lashes at me. “Please, please, please, please.”
I smirk at him. “Your theatrics don’t work on me. Plus, I have project stuff to get to this afternoon.”
“Fine,” he grumbles, “but we’ll find time to sit down as a family again here soon. Being busy is understandable. However, we both miss you. Make some time for your dads.”
“I will,” I promise and mean it. “So what did you need me to stop by the shop for?”
Dad’s playful nature fades and he narrows his eyes, watching me for any tells. “How are you liking Tate? He won’t tell me anything other than the fact you make your scheduled appointments.”
I stifle a sigh of relief. “I like him. A lot. He’s easy to talk to.”
Dad’s gaze softens and he reaches across his desk to take my hand. “I’m so happy, Son. There’s something different about you lately. Did you meet someone? A girl? A guy?”
“Not into guys,” I say with a grunt. “No offense.”
Dad chuckles. “None taken. So it’s a girl then?”
Guilt churns in my gut as I avoid his probing stare. “Just my project partner.”
“Who’s a girl?” Dad asks, lifting his brows.
“Yeah, uh, Golden’s a girl.”
“Golden,” Dad says, frowning. “What an unusual name.”
“Yup.”
“When do we get to meet her?”
I stiffen and then jerk my hand away from his to run my fingers through my messy hair. “Um, she’s shy. Yeah. Really shy. Doubt she’ll want to meet you.”
Hurt crosses over his features and I feel like a dick for putting it there.
“Are you sure it’s not just you being embarrassed of us?” Dad asks, wincing slightly. “Me and Pops will be on our best behavior. I promise.”
“I’m not embarrassed of you guys,” I grumble, not meeting his stare. “It’s just…awkward.”
Not a total lie.
“Well, when you’re ready, we’ll be thrilled to meet her.”
“Sure,” I mutter. Then I change the subject away from Gemma. “Tate’s really cool. Drives an older model Jeep, so he appreciates a classic. He brings me coffee for each session. Butterscotch lattes.”
Dad’s eyes twinkle with happiness. “I’m so glad we switched you to him. I can already tell a difference in your mood. For a while there, you had me and Pops really worried. Dax too. You’re still taking your medicine properly, right?”
It’s times like this I feel like a kid again.
“Yeah, Dad. I’m all good.” I stand up and stretch. “I need to get going. Meeting Golden to work on our project.”
Dad also stands and comes over to me. He hugs me tight, nearly crushing my ribs. “I love you, sweet boy. So damn much.”
Emotion balls up in my throat and my eyes sting as I hug my dad back. Tate wanted me to imagine a scenario where my dads meet Gemma. Well, that’s a horrible thought. The look of betrayal on my parents’ faces would be too much to bear.
And they’d feel so betrayed.
I’m knowingly carrying on this sordid affair with the little girl they wanted to adopt. It would be heartbreaking for them on so many levels.
Finally, I manage to leave the shop and Dad without cracking under the weight of my guilt. On the way back to my car, I find some missed texts.
Golden: I’m at HH. Paula made extra for dinner and invited us. Meet me in Alexander’s office when you get here.
All the awkwardness fades away as I anticipate seeing Gemma again. Talk about a rollercoaster for my emotions. Another text I missed is from Dax.
Dax: Mom is being SO overbearing, man. I know you’re like not in any rush, but I think I’m going to get my own place after the semester is over. We could be roomies.
Dax: Don’t make me beg.
Dax: I bet we can rent a house with a shed or something so you can do your dollhouse shit.
I respond back to Dax first.
Me: It’s not dollhouse shit.
Dax: Whatever, 2. I need out from under that woman’s constant criticism. You’re lucky you have two dads and no mom. Just saying.
I am lucky to have my two dads.
Knowing just how almost unlucky I was is a constant reminder that plagues me.
Ignoring Dax for the time being, I shoot out a reply to Gemma.
Me: No one followed you to HH? Gregory’s not creeping on you either? Maybe Gregory IS your stalker.
Gemma: TWO! Don’t freak me out! Get your ass here and protect me from that cantankerous old man!
We text back and forth each time I get stuck at a red light, but I like knowing that as long as she’s texting with me, she’s safe.
Maybe moving in with Dax is a great idea. I could see Gemma and my parents would never have to know. When I park at Hemingford Hall beside Gemma’s Tahoe, I text Dax back.
Me: I’m in to move this summer. Won’t hurt to start looking at places now.
He sends me a fuckton of unnecessary heart eye emojis that have me chuckling. I love my dads with everything in me, but it would be nice to have Gemma all alone whenever I wanted with nobody to get upset over it.
Suddenly, May seems like forever away.