Chapter Nineteen #3
“I’m coming. I’m coming. Fuck, I’m coming,” he whimpers, losing his rhythm as he writhes and shudders.
“Mmmfuck, Gordy! Yes. Fuck yes, oh my god.” He burrows his head into my neck, biting down on my shoulder as sticky warmth spreads between us.
His sounds, those whimpers and whines, send me into another orgasm as I add to the mess between us.
For many minutes, we lie there, me on top of him, just trying to catch our breaths. Finally, I feel him shuddering beneath me. That shuddering turns into chuckles, then into a full blown laugh.
“What’s so funny?” I ask, peeling myself off of him so I can see what the fuck he’s gone in to hysterics over.
He wraps his arms around my midsection, hauling me back into him and kissing my temple. “How I ever thought I was straight…” He laughs more. “How I let an asshole like you talk me into giving my first blowjob.”
I narrow my eyes at him.
“How much I fuckin’ loved it,” he adds with a shit-eating grin.
“You’re such an idiot,” I muse, resting my head back down on his shoulder, relieved that this wasn’t some huge embarrassment for him.
Suddenly, his laughing ceases. “Promise me you’ll tell me if it ever is too much? Me being an idiot…”
“Sarah made you feel that way, didn’t she?” I hum.
I feel him nod as he runs his fingers over the fine hairs on my scalp, lightly caressing my head, so far removed from heeding that first stupid rule I ever made.
I want him touching me more than anything.
My body craves it, overriding that formerly omnipresent gatekeeper in the back of my brain that urged me to run from physical touch.
Only him.
“How long have we known each other now?” I ask him.
“I dunno. I literally had been coming to the pub pretty much daily since I was legally old enough to drink there. You’d taken it over by then.”
“Exactly. If I were sick of it, truly sick of your shit, I’d have canned your ass that long ago.”
He chuckles. “We both know that’s bullshit. I was stubborn enough to keep coming back.”
I peer up at him, meeting his gaze. “Yet here we are.”
He grins, nodding. “Here we are.”
“Can you stay?” I ask, no longer too prideful to just blurt out what I’m hoping for. Opening up. Just like I spent hours, days, weeks in therapy practicing for.
His grin falters. “I, um, can’t. My wiener…”
My brows knit together. “Twinkie. I need to, uh—you know what? Fuck. Come to my place and check out my wiener.”
I look between us. “Is that not yours, and—I thought you called it Blackbeard?”
“I adopted a dog,” he explains, chuckling.
“One who’s probably doing the potty dance, if he hasn’t pissed on the carpet already.
The girls named him Twinkie, cuz, well, he kinda resembles one.
Fuckin’ guy sees perfectly wipeable linoleum and decides ‘to hell with that’ and opts for my goddamn rug… every time.”
I shake my head chuckling. “I probably should stick around here, in case Taryn needs backup. Technically, he needs a supervisor in order to serve alcohol, but I’m still on premises…
” That, and I need to find Morgan. Giving her the box I have down in my truck was my actual first order of business, but… well, other shit came up.
He groans. “Fiiine. But I swear to fuck, Gordy. If you disappear again, I will hunt you down.”
“I told you I was staying. I’m staying. If you had let me explain before, I went to that residential rehab place again. After you looked so giddy about getting your apartment back, I kind of lost it.”
His brows furrow. “I didn’t—I wasn’t giddy.
Christ, Gordy. I only faked that excitement, because I thought you would be happy to kick me out.
You seemed uneasy after we fucked around in the shower.
I tried to cuddle you in bed after, to reassure you it was alright.
You’re the one that got up and went to sleep out on the couch! ”
“No, that wasn’t it at all. I got up because your daughter was awake.
I heard her rummaging around in the kitchen.
The fuckin’ seagull you let inside took over her half of the bed!
I made her chocolate milk and we watched a movie together.
She made me promise we’d get you snack cakes for your friggin' birthday!”
He looks affronted. “Wait, that’s why Tatiana insisted that Sarah buy a whole shelving display of Little Debbie Valentine’s Day cakes, and she kept asking for you to come sledding with us on my birthday?”
“Oh, shit,” I sigh, feeling defeated. Only, I shouldn’t, because if it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have gotten the help I needed.
That disappointment I felt, knowing I let his little girl down, is what ate away at me for days after.
Things got real dark around here, all by myself, alone in my spiraling thoughts.
Finally, I broke when I got that text from Gannett.
So yeah, I went through the program again. Well, most of it, anyway. I didn’t graduate from the intensive program this time, but I was damn close. I just felt I had responsibilities I needed to tend to here, so I didn’t stay for the full three months.
But now I’m set up to continue getting treatment as an outpatient with my new doc, Dr. Goucher. He specializes in cases like mine, I guess. He seems trustworthy enough that I plan to continue seeing him virtually.
Also, I’m on meds, I’ve got some new coping mechanisms in my toolbox, and I’m feeling better now.
Not the best, and I know in my heart of hearts it will always be an ongoing struggle to maintain this peace.
There is no cure, obviously, but I know I’ve got new motivation to keep on trying to be better now. ..
I’ve got a plan for my future, and I want Gannett in that future with me.
“Well,” Gannett sighs, rubbing my back just like he used to—something I’ve missed wholeheartedly while away.
“I probably have time for a shower, but then I really have to get going. I just—maybe not with jizz-face. And, like, maybe not with you this time, because, well, I probably won’t actually leave after. ”
I nod, letting him sit up. “Keep the key to my apartment,” I tell him. “Oh, and, uh—thank you, Gannett.”
“For what?”
“Being your stubborn self.” I grin.
He cups my jawline, looking me dead in the eye.
“Thanks for calling me a greedy slut. I like the beard, by the way. Very sexy. Never thought I’d say that.
” Patting my cheek, he lifts off the couch and makes his way to the bathroom.
“Is it too bisexual of me to admit that I can’t wait to find out what beard burn feels like on my thighs? It is, isn’t it…”
Oh, this fuckin’ guy.
Karaoke at Portside Pub appears to be a big hit.
It’s still going strong when I finally make my way down to my truck, having seen Gannett off and showering myself after.
Peering in the window, I can see the Harnden twins, specifically the one who had the gall to kiss Gannett to get a reaction out of me, singing Cher’s hit "If I Could Turn Back Time" to the guy who is, I guess, named Shane—the one who looked equally as unimpressed with the kiss.
I nearly drop the box I have for Morgan when someone steps out of the shadows near the fire escape. In a panic, my gaze darts around, assessing the threat. Old habits die hard, apparently.
My gut clenches, my hackles on hyperdrive. Instinctually, I ready myself for a fight, but suddenly, there are large, iridescent blobs—fucking bubbles—floating everywhere. Then, a giggle.
My brows furrow, but the tension in my muscles starts to dissipate. “What the fuck?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Morgan titters, brandishing a giant bubble wand. “Found this on your fire escape, and I stole it. I don’t smoke, but I needed a break. Tonight has been a mad-house. I didn’t realize you too were a bubble fan.” She smirks.
I chuckle. “I’m not. If I had to guess, it’s Gannett’s girls’ toy they forgot here.”
She nods, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
“What’s that look for?” I ask her.
“Ohhh, nuthin’.” She shrugs. “Just that he recently left your apartment looking as if he just found out he can shoot glitter from his fingertips… It’s kinda the same look Dad used to get when he thought he was being all sneaky-sneaky with Evster.”
I narrow my eyes at her.
She winks at me. “Your secret is safe with me, but you may have some splainin’ to do when it comes to my bonus dad.”
Yeah, no shit. Well aware that if I fuck this up, I’ll have hell to pay with Evan.
“How are you so observant?” I ask her. “It’s unnatural to be that perceptive.” It’s something so inherently Ryann…
She shrugs. “It’s a gift, I guess.”
Oh shit, that reminds me. The box. “Speaking of gifts,” I begin, handing the box over to her and nodding towards the bar. “I can go in and cover for you, but… well, I think you should have these.”
“I think Taryn’s okay in there for now,” she notes, concern creasing her brow.
She hesitantly takes the box from me and lifts the lid.
She eyes the contents and then peers up at me.
She backs up, taking a seat on the bottom stair, and rifles through the box some more.
“These are pictures of me and Mom,” she rasps, tears welling in her eyes. “Where—how did you get these?”
I owe her the truth. For Ryann. So, I pull up a seat next to her and explain to her about how Miranda must have held onto this box, in the hopes that it would eventually make it to their rightful owner.
They’ve been sitting in storage at the women’s shelter for years, unclaimed.
One of the workers there recognized me from being in some of the pictures, and brought it to me while I was in rehab.
I go on to explain why I was in those pictures. How I knew her mother. What a powerful impact she had on my life, despite the short time knowing her. She got me the help I needed, and, in return, all I did was unwittingly make things worse for her—all because I was blinded by pure rage.
She peers up at me, fat tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I tell her. “Morgan, I can’t tell you how truly sorry I am. I had no idea it was you. Only once I saw that tattoo on Evan’s arm, did I put the pieces together.”
She wraps her arms around me and buries her face into my chest. “You have no idea the impact you made on her either. Before—what happened—she was determined to make good on her promise to get out of that life. I don’t…
like to talk much about what happened right before she died, but I know she did it…
intentionally. Like, sacrificed herself so I could go live with Dad. ”
“Oh, sweetie,” I sigh, holding her close.
“I’m so sorry.” It’s repetitive, I know, but it’s all I can offer her.
When she pulls back, she peers up at me again, and I’m again struck by how I didn’t make the connection that she was Marie sooner.
I swipe some of her tears away with my thumb.
“I wish I had found you both sooner,” I whisper.
“You didn’t find us because we were in hiding.
Mom did get us out for a little bit, and Colt’s mom helped with that.
I got to make so many more memories with Mom because of the years she was able to give me, all before they found us again.
Gordy, you are the reason why we had the time together that we did.
She was sober through the entirety of it, so I made so many good memories with her.
And I know that when my mom passed, she—she did it so I could have a better life. ”
“That’s all she ever wanted for you.”
“I know, and I got it in spades, trust me. My dad absolutely nailed giving me the best life possible, after what happened. So please, please promise me you won’t let this hang over your head.
You did not give my mom a death sentence.
Pardon my cussing, but those cruel bastards— they have no conscience.
They were going to keep her bound to them regardless.
What you did was buy my mom and I a few more years together, and for that, I am truly thankful. ”
“Babe?” Taryn pokes his head out of the back door of the pub. Spying Morgan and I sitting together on the stairs, both of us crying, he stiffens. “Dad? What the hell is going on? And where the hell have you been?”
“It’s a long story,” I sigh. Too long to tell with the business he’s trying to run right now.
Morgan nudges me with her shoulder. “Is it okay if I share this with him? Not, you know, the other thing.”
I nod and she slips the lid back on the box, passing it back to me. “Hold onto this for now, and we can come back for it after.”
“Okay. I’ll be awake.”
She hops up, wipes the last of the tears from her face, links her arm with his, and lifts up on her tiptoes to give Taryn a peck on the cheek. “C’mon, boss man. Let’s get this place closed up, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
“That’s another thing I want to talk about, too, Taryn. Come on up once everyone skedaddles. I think it’s time we discuss ownership of this place.”
“O-kay?” he drawls skeptically, before Morgan yanks him back inside.