Chapter Thirty Confessions #3
It had been a while since I’d FaceTimed them.
I hadn’t wanted to do it while Eddie was home.
I’d been emailing them mostly for the past few months, with a few phone calls in between, but not much lately.
She hadn’t replied to many of my emails, ever since I’d said I couldn’t make it home for Thanksgiving because of work.
“Um, so,” I said. “You know this guy that’s been living with me—Eddie?”
“Your unemployed friend?” said my mom.
“He’s not...” Actually, he was unemployed. But the way she said it made it sound like he’d never had a job, and I was hurt on his behalf because when he had a job, he worked his ass off.
“He’s not exactly my friend. He’s...we’re dating. Each other. We’re...he’s my boyfriend.”
My mother blinked. Hard. My dad looked like he just woke up. He didn’t speak, but then he usually let my mom take the lead.
“Actually, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s my fiancé.”
“How long has this been going on?”
I panicked. On the one hand, I wanted them to know he wasn’t just a fling. On the other hand, if I told them how long I’d been in love with him, they might get pissed off that I hadn’t told them sooner.
“He proposed to me tonight,” I said. Which was true. I didn’t want to get accused of “keeping secrets,” which was what my mom did whenever I didn’t tell her every single detail about my life immediately after it happened.
“I see,” said my mom. The way she said it, all calm and quiet, was worse than if she’d yelled at me. For a second, I thought she’d tell me I wasn’t allowed to get married.
My dad kept quiet, as usual.
“Well,” said my mom, like it was a complete sentence.
“I want to bring him home for Christmas,” I blurted out.
This wasn’t going the way I’d planned. “He hasn’t got any family to spend it with, and...
it would be nice. You know?” I felt like I was betraying him saying that, like my mom would think less of him for not having a family. “Do you...want to meet him? He’s here.”
I waited for them to say something. Was I being an idiot? Are they waiting for me to get him? I think they are. Go get him, Porter. You idiot.
I got up. He was in the bedroom, just sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for me. I took his hand. “Come on.”
I brought him to the living room, and he sat beside me on the couch.
For a second, I saw him through their eyes, and I felt...uncomfortable.
“This is Eddie. Eddie, this is my mom and dad.”
“Hi,” said Eddie.
My parents made sounds that weren’t exactly “hi.”
Things went quiet, so I said, “He bought me a ring, see?” I held up my thumb to show them.
They had to be impressed. It was real gold.
They didn’t say anything.
“So,” I said, “I guess we’ll see you for Christmas? I’m buying our plane tickets for the twentieth.”
“Right,” said my mom. “I suppose we’ll see you then.”
Then she disconnected.
I felt relieved it was over. I’d come out to them.
Afterward, while we were lying in bed with the fairy lights blinking on the headboard above us, he said, “You okay?”
I stroked his stomach with the back of my hand, rumpling his T-shirt.
“I’ll book our tickets tomorrow. Then we can spend Christmas together.
Hey, you made me shoot twice today, and they were both exceptional, but you didn’t get off after dinner, did you?
” I let my hand drift under the covers to the waistband of his boxers and then lower, teasing him.
“You just had to ask. I would have done whatever you wanted. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, but tonight was a big deal for you. And you passed out. Maybe you should rest.”
“I’m okay.” I kept stroking him slowly. “Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
“I want to taste you.”
His dick jumped in my hand.
“I take it you’re on board?”
“Yeah.”
“Stay put.” The bedroom was dark, apart from the fairy lights. I sat up. Feeling perfectly safe, I pulled my shirt off and tossed it over the end of the bed.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
Everything was quiet except for the hum of the aquarium pump. He was staring at me. Then I lifted the blankets, climbed under the covers, and pulled him against me. His arms went around me. Then we started making out.
He stopped me after a second. “Okay?” he said.
“Yeah. I love you.” And we went back to making out.
“Craig?”
“Mm-hmm?”
“I can’t hold out much longer.”
I kissed him one more time, pulled back slowly with a little suction to make him feel it. Then I went down on him. He wasn’t kidding about being close.
“Fuck, Craig. Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!” And he came, and I felt him shaking as I swallowed.
When he was done, I hauled myself up the bed, and pulled him against me, stroking his back.
“I love feeling your heartbeat on my tongue. I love it when you shoot in my mouth. I love swallowing you. I love tasting you.”
“Fuck, Craig.”
I laughed. “And I love it when your voice goes hoarse after you shoot.”
“Thanks,” he said. “And for...” He touched my naked back.
“I want to hold you like this all night. Can you sleep like this?”
“Sure,” he said.
“Good night, honey kid.”
He fell asleep in my arms with his head cradled on my bare shoulder and his arm draped across my waist.