Twenty-Two #2
I smiled into the phone.
“Good night,” he said quickly.
“Good night.”
“Well?” Sam asked when I looked over at him once I’d hung up. “What did the great man have to say?”
“We have to have dinner with him tomorrow night.”
“I already told you that.”
“It won’t be just us.”
“I don’t care who’s there, I’m going for you.”
I smiled at him.
“Sounds like it’ll be a blast.” He smirked at me.
“You’ll get introduced to someone as my partner for the first time. Are you ready for that?” I stared into his eyes and waited.
“I’m ready,” he said, getting up and motioning me to him. “Get your stuff, I wanna go.” When my laptop bag was packed, I met him at the door and he took it from me and tucked it under his arm before wrapping the other around my neck, drawing me in close to him.
“How’s your ankle today?”
“Much better. I stayed off of it and rolled my chair all over the office.”
He scoffed. “I’m sure everyone loved that.”
“Would we say love?”
Before I could take a step, he gave me a squeeze. “Just so you know, I’m your guy, J. You can call me whatever you want.”
The man definitely knew what to say.
As we drove through downtown, I looked at the strangers walking outside my window and wondered, as I always did, about different people’s lives.
“Ask you a question?”
“Of course.” I yawned, turning to look at him.
“What would make you want to stay home with me instead of going out and getting laid by a different guy every night?”
I felt myself scowl.
“Don’t gimme the look, just answer the question. Because when I was twenty-two—”
“I’m twenty-three.”
“Whatever. When I was twenty-three, I was fuckin’ wild. I used to go out all the time, night after night, and I never took the same person home twice.”
“You were a big-time player.” I passed judgment.
“Yeah, I was. I was twenty-three. You’re supposed to sow wild oats so you don’t try and recapture your youth when you’re, like, fifty or whatever.”
“I see.”
“I have a theory that guys that go through a midlife crisis just never really got to be young the first time, ya know? Like my dad—he was insane before he met my mom, but he got it all out and he never had a midlife crisis. He never had to buy a Porsche or get a divorce and date blondes the same age as his daughters. I think that comes from being crazy when you’re supposed to. ”
“Okay.”
“So my question to you is this—aren’t you gonna miss going out with your friends or—”
“I can still go out with my friends,” I assured him.
“If you want to go dancing with me, or to the movies, or out to dinner, or come along with me for game night, you can. You’re invited.
You’re always invited. If you don’t, I’m not gonna beg you.
You have your friends and I have mine. They might not ever mix. ”
“You’re still gonna go out?”
“Why not?”
“To the club to—”
“I may wanna go dancing, Sam. I enjoy it. If I wanna go and you don’t wanna go with me, then I’ll go alone. But I have some really good friends that get me. They know me, and if I say I’m with you, they’ll respect that. When you meet them, you’ll understand.”
He let out a deep sigh. “I just don’t want you to resent me a few years down the road ’cause I kept you from doing whatever you wanted to do.”
I put my hand on his thigh, and he immediately covered it with his, sliding his fingers between mine. “I’ve been on my own a long time, Sam, and I’ve slept with my share of strangers. I don’t wanna do that anymore. I don’t need a one-night, I need a home.”
“Okay. Good,” he said with a grin. “Now, I have a question.”
“Go ahead.”
“I’m a top, right?”
“I’m sorry?”
“I am, aren’t I?”
I looked over at him. “Are you kidding?”
“No, why?”
“Sam, what’s with you and Gay Sex 101?”
“I’m just asking because I don’t know.”
“Okay, for the record, yes, you’re a top.”
“And that makes you what?”
“A bottom.” I rolled my eyes. “I know you know this.”
He just grunted.
“We could mix it up if you like.” I grinned slyly.
“No, I don’t think so. I like everything just how it is.”
“Oh, I bet you do,” I said, looking out the window.
“You don’t?”
“Don’t be an idiot.” I sighed, turning to look at his profile. “You know I’m good with us.”
He kept his eyes on the road. “I know you are.”
“May I say, I have a lot of friends that have open relationships.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning they live with someone but still sleep around.”
“And?”
“And so you know, I’m not built that way.”
“Good, because it ain’t gonna be that way. You belong to just me.”
I turned away so he couldn’t see me smile.
“Look at me.”
When I did, his gaze met mine. I hadn’t realized he’d pulled over.
“I just want you to be sure that this, us, alone, is what you want, J, ’cause I’ve got my mind made up, but you gotta be on board too.”
I understood that was how he worked. There was the wrestling with the problem, then the resolution, the yes or no on a decision, followed by the buy-in from all parties involved. He liked a rock-solid foundation before he moved forward. After this, there was no going back.
“I’m on board, Sam.”
He reached for me, wrapped his hand around the back of my neck, and pulled me forward to kiss me breathless. I had to push back to take in air.
His smile was wicked, very pleased with himself.
“You look very happy,” I said, my voice soft so it wouldn’t crack on me.
“Because I am,” he assured me, running the backs of his fingers up and down my throat before suddenly settling behind the wheel again and easing the SUV back out into traffic.
“Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”
We ended up at a deli, where we both ordered sandwiches stacked to the sky and took them to go.
He told me how frustrating it was that, in all the mess of my rifled apartment, there was not one fingerprint, strand of hair, or any other telltale piece of evidence to suggest that there had even been an intruder.
Professionally done was an understatement, and when I pressed him for a guess as to who it could have been, he had nothing he wanted to share.
I knew better, even in the short time we had known each other, than to push.
I was about to ask some more questions about his new partner when his phone went off.
I was surprised when mine rang a second later.
“Hello?”
“Jory?”
“Yeah.”
“Jory, it’s Jen.”
“Oh.” I glanced over at Sam, who was listening very intently to whoever was on the other end. “Hey, how are you? I had no idea you had my—”
“Jory, I need you and Sam to come to my house right now.”
“Are you—”
“I’m okay, I just need some support.” She was close to tears; I could hear it in her voice. “I told Mitch, and he just left and…then I called Kurt and…could you just come?”
“Course,” I soothed her. “We’ll be right there.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you soon.”
“Sure,” I promised before she hung up on me.
“Who was that?” he asked, yawning.
“Jen,” I said fast. “How ’bout you?”
“My mom.” He sighed deeply. “She wants me to go to Jen’s.”
“Perfect.” I smiled at him. “That’s where Jen wants us to go too.”
“We’re not going.” He shot me a look.
“Oh, the hell we’re not,” I retorted, thinking he was kidding. “Jen needs us. We’re so going.”
“We’re not, and that’s final.”
I nodded slowly.
When we rolled up in front of Jen’s house in La Grange, I immediately opened my door.
“Wait!” he growled at me.
I turned my head and gave him the most exasperated look I could manage.
“You know what?” He pointed at me. “You’re lucky I even gave in and drove your ass over here.”
“Gave in?” I snapped back before I climbed down and slammed the door shut as hard as I could. I turned for the house.
“Will you wait?” he roared at me as he came around the front of the car.
I hopped over to the fence and leaned as he came up beside me, his hand landing heavily on my back.
“Jesus, you’re so fuckin’ stubborn.”
I grunted, realizing I should have been using the crutches. My ankle was still fairly sore when it had to bear weight.
“Can I help you, please?”
I shrugged, and he drew my arm up over his shoulder and tucked me in against him. I was surprised when he bent and kissed my temple.
“What was that for?”
“You’re a pain in the ass, J, but your heart’s in the right place. And seeing you all pissed off is really cute.”
I scowled up at him. “I’m not cute.”
“Yeah, ya are.” He kissed the bridge of my nose. “And your face gets all flushed and your nose scrunches up. It’s adorable.”
I rolled my eyes and decided to ignore him.
“I love you.”
Which basically undid me. Righteous indignation stood no chance in the face of his warm eyes, crooked grin, and the way he looked at me. And his words… He killed me with his words.
“Cat got your tongue, baby?” He leaned down and kissed me, breathing me in, clutching me tight.
I clung to him, and when he pulled back, I could only stare up at him.
“I feel so good in my skin right now.” He sighed deeply before he grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder.
“You know how old this is getting?” I groused at him, swatting his ass.
“I like it,” he said, and of that I had no doubt.
When we hit the porch, Sam set me down just as the door opened and Regina Kage appeared, framed against the light from behind her. Instead of reaching for Sam, she reached for me, taking my hand and drawing me inside the house.
“Jory, it’s so good to see you.”
I smiled at her as she opened her arms. It was so much better than I remembered. I grabbed her so tight she squeaked and then hugged me back, smoothing her hands down the back of my hair, rubbing circles between my shoulder blades.
“Thank you for coming. Jen really needs the support.”
She let me go and went to Sam, wrapping her arms around him as I limped toward the living room.
Jen was sitting on the couch with Rachel beside her. Michael was in the opposite chair, watching football with his dad. There were sandwiches on a tray on the coffee table, along with chips and dip and paper plates. All eyes were on me as I stepped into the room.
“Come here by me,” Jen said quickly, patting the space beside her.
I shed my jacket and was almost around the coffee table when Thomas stood to face me.
“Jory.”
“Sir.”