10. Trey
“What do you think,Gwennie? Is it a masterpiece?” I step back from the easel and study the brown and green blob that’s supposed to be a palm tree.
Her gaze leaps from the canvas she’s painting to mine. “I think you’ll be a better team owner than an artist,” she answers diplomatically.
I laugh. “I hope you’re right. My art leaves a lot to be desired. It looks like you’ve got all the talent in the family.” I point at her canvas, where the palm tree and beach scene look like they were painted by a professional artist.
“You can’t be good at everything, Dad.”
“You’re right. I’m having fun with my favorite girl, and that’s all that matters.”
“It’s good you’re here with me and not on a date.”
“Why are you saying that?”
“Because your painting wouldn’t impress them.”
“Ouch,” I say, clutching my chest.
“Sorry. But I don’t want you to embarrass yourself.”
Would Mae care about my lack of artistic ability? I doubt it. Thinking about her makes me miss her company. I bet we’d have fun if I took her on a date.
“Okay, I’m finished,” Gwen says.
We clean up and carefully carry our canvases to the car, laying them on the back seat. However, mine is better suited for the trash.
“Thanks for bringing me here. This was awesome.”
“You’re welcome. What do you say we grab milkshakes before I take you home?”
“Yes, please.” She bounces on her toes. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, I steer her back onto the sidewalk toward our favorite ice cream shop.
When we enter, the bell jingles, and we step right up to the counter to order. And we always get the same thing.
“Can we please get a vanilla cookie milkshake and a chocolate cookie milkshake?”
When the server walks off, I turn to Gwen. “Should we get your mom and Dean shakes?”
Her eyes light up. “Yes, that’s a great idea. Maybe it’ll help Mom be in a better mood.”
“I’m sure seeing you will be enough to do that.”
She rolls her eyes. “Pfft.”
When the server brings our cups over, I add the additional shakes to the order. Gwen and I grab extra napkins and slowly sip our ice-cold treats while we wait.
“Did you finish your homework?” I ask.
“Mhmm. Don’t worry, Mom can’t yell at you.”
“She doesn’t yell.”
Gwen’s expression is skeptical. “If you say so.”
The server brings over a tray with their shakes, and I hand over the cash.
The ride to Claire and Dean’s is quick. Gwen adds her cup to the tray for me to carry while she handles removing her painting from the back seat. I close the door for her, and we walk up the driveway.
Dean opens the door for us and smiles at Gwen. “Hey, stranger. How was your weekend?”
“It was good.”
Claire appears. “Hi, honey.”
“Hi, Mom.” Gwen hands me her painting so she can properly hug her.
“Dad bought us all milkshakes.”
Claire’s gaze swings to me. “Thank you, Trey.”
“No thanks needed.” I hand the tray to her. “Gwen, I’m gonna head home.”
She hurries over, hugging me. I press a kiss to the top of her head. “Be good. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Bye, Dad.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too,” she says, and my chest fills up to overflowing. Knowing my daughter loves me trumps everything else in my life.
* * *
“Are you feeling anxious about your new job yet?” Isaac asks.
“What good would that do me? I plan on leaning on my dad through the transition process. I know he won’t leave me hanging.”
He points his half-full bottle at me. “Good point. He wants you to succeed.”
“Absolutely. Plus, I’ve already got the blueprint for winning team. We have the best coaches, the best trainers, the best facility. We have everything we could need and most of that will stay as is for the next season. Aside from some contract negotiations.” Raising my bottle, I swallow down some of the ice-cold beer.
“Well, aside from the unpredictable stuff that pops up with any business,” he points out.
I set my bottle down on the bar. “Right. I’m not planning for smooth sailing all the time. But I’m hoping I have a chance to get acclimated without any major surprises.”
“How’s Gwen doing?”
“She’s great, thanks. She spent the weekend with me.”
“You know, you never told me how your Finder date went,” he mentions.
My lips curl at the reminder of Mae. “It went great.”
“Have you seen her since?”
I nod. “We got together a second time.”
“So what’s the deal?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t feed me a line of bullshit. I can tell you like this woman by your expression, so what’s holding you back?”
“She’s only twenty-five.”
He grimaces. “Jailbait.”
“Not quite, but she’s mature for her age. And, God, is she beautiful.”
“Sounds like you’re interested in seeing her again.”
“I am. We made dinner plans for one night this week.”
“Dinner and sex? Sounds like more than a hookup.”
“It’s a meal, not a proposal, Isaac.”
“Yeah, but meals can make things murky. If you’re committed to keeping things low-key, stick with just sex. There’s no mixed signals then.”
Except for when you try to get her to sleep over after sex.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“What does she look like?”
“Long golden-blond hair, bright-blue eyes, and the most perfect ass in the world.”
“If you don’t want to date her, I will. You know blondes are my weakness,” he says.
Like I’d let him anywhere near her.
“I’m not sure what’s going to happen yet. She’s someone I could see being in a relationship with, but I don’t want to rush into anything. Gwen comes first, and I’m about to add a new job to my plate. How much can I pile on?”
“You can always see how it goes, and if it’s too much, you can end things with her.”
“Right.”
“You know I hate it when you say that.”
“Right.” I laugh.
He punches my arm. “I gave you good advice.”
“I know you did. I’ll think about your wise words later.” I pick up my bottle. “For now, I’d like to finish this beer.”
“And then have one more?” Isaac asks.
“Maybe.”
He smiles. “That’s good. My advice improves with every beer I drink.”
I don’t want to discuss Mae anymore.
Even though I mentioned her to Isaac, I didn’t share many details about her. We may be hooking up temporarily, but I want to keep her to myself.
* * *
This house feels so lonely without Gwen here. Raising the remote, I flip through a few channels and settle on the local news.
After a few minutes of barely watching, my mind wanders to Mae, and I wonder what she’s doing. There’s no reason why I can’t simply ask her.
I have her phone number.
Grabbing my phone from my nightstand, I tap on her name and smile. I added her to my contacts as Sunshine. I type out a text and send it.
Hi, Mae. How was your weekend?
I hope she replies. If she didn’t save my number, she might be wondering who the fuck is texting her this late.
It’s only a couple of minutes before she answers.
It was nice. How was yours?
Gwen was here, and we stayed busy. But it passed too quickly.
The weekends have a way of doing that.
Where are you now?
What do you mean, where am I? It’s well after eleven p.m. and I have to work in the morning. I’m in bed.
Her reply makes me smile even though she killed my opportunity to ask what she’s wearing.
I figured as much but didn’t want to assume. Plenty of twenty-somethings go out at night and still manage to make it to work the next day.
Not this one. I need sleep to function properly.
Is that my cue to stop texting you?
Maybe.
Way to crush my ego, Mae. She’d rather sleep than talk with me.
Does tomorrow night still work for you?
Yes. I’m looking forward to it.
Okay, she made up for her earlier remark.
So am I. See you at seven.
Yes, sir.
That little vixen.
Go to sleep like a good girl.
Yes, sir.
And now my dick’s hard, and I’m wishing she were here to do something about it.
I set my phone on the nightstand and slide my hand inside my boxer briefs, fisting my cock. Closing my eyes, I call up the memory of Mae kneeling between my legs as I start stroking.
I think about how sexy her lips looked as they wrapped around the head of my cock.
How warm and soft her tongue felt swirling around every inch of me as she worked her way down and back up my length.
Spreading around the pre-cum gathering on the tip, I increase the pace of my strokes. Recalling how she swallowed every drop of my cum, sends me over the edge. My orgasm hits, and my release shoots onto my bare stomach.
I clean up with some tissues and shut the TV off. I need to get plenty of rest. If I have my way, there won’t be much sleeping tomorrow night.
* * *
Mae is climbing the porch steps when I open the side door. “Hey there.” I smile, letting her in.
She echoes my smile. “Hi.”
I press a brief kiss to her lips. “I hope you’re hungry. I ordered a lot of food.”
“Yes, I’m starving. I had a light lunch.” She places her keys and phone down on the small table.
I like that she’s fully present when she’s here and not scrolling on her phone.
Capturing her hand, I steer her toward the kitchen table, which is loaded with cardboard containers of Chinese food. “Help yourself to whatever you want. What would you like to drink?”
“Water would be great, thanks.” She starts to fill her plate while I fill two glasses with ice and cold water.
“My mouth is watering at how good this looks,” she says.
“Don’t wait for me to dig in,” I say, placing her glass in front of her and mine at the end seat. I lower into the black metal chair and add fried rice, then beef and broccoli to my plate. “How was your day?”
“It was pretty good. How about yours?”
“It’s been busy. Some changes are happening at my company.”
“I hope they’re good changes...”
“They will be, but it’s shaking things up right now.”
She takes a bite of lo mein with a piece of chicken finger and hums. After a few more bites, she says, “This is so good.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”
“That’s an understatement. So, what did you and Gwen do this weekend? Or is that too personal of a question?”
I don’t mind her asking about my personal life. I’ll tell her anything she wants to know.
“No, it’s a great question. Saturday, we went shopping for some new sneakers, and on Sunday, we had dinner at my parents’ house. Last night, we went to one of those art studios where everyone paints the same picture.”
“That sounds like fun.”
“It was. My painting sucked, but Gwen’s looked like it was professionally done,” I brag. “Oh, and we also went out for milkshakes afterward.”
“It’s wonderful that you make the most of your time with her.”
“Thank you. It’s easily the hardest job I’ve ever had. Most of the time, I feel like I’m failing at it.”
“I’m sure you’re not.”
“I wish I could be so confident.”
“So, do I get to see your painting?”
“It’s funny you ask. Gwen told me I should keep my lack of artistic ability a secret.”
“That’s kind of brutal,” she says.
“That’s kids for you. They keep it real.”
“If it’s any consolation, in my opinion, you have other skills that more than make up for any lack of artistic ability.” She winks at me, and I grin.
We settle into silence for a bit as we focus on clearing our plates. Having dinner together feels natural, like it’s a regular occurrence. I could easily get used to these moments and want more of them. She’s easy to be around, and having her beautiful face to look at certainly improves the scenery.
“What’s been happening with you since we saw each other?” I ask.
“Not much. I had a weekend filled with errands and cleaning. Exciting stuff.”
“Did you do anything fun?”
“I went over to a friend’s house for drinks.”
“A female friend?” I ask. My tone has a sharper edge to it than I meant to.
Her surprised gaze jumps from her plate to me, and she cants her head. “Why does that matter?”
I can tell her ire is worked up, so being honest is the best path to take. I tug nervously on my ear. I’m not a jealous man. I don’t covet other people’s successes or their possessions. And I never get jealous over a woman—and yet here I am, acting like an ass.
“It shouldn’t, but I hate the thought of you enjoying another man’s company.”
Her expression softens. “I was with my friend Lucy.”
I hold up a hand, stopping her from elaborating. “I shouldn’t have asked. I have no right to.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry.”
Her lips curve in a small smile. “It’s okay.”
I know I made things weird, and a subject change is needed. Of course, my mind goes blank as I search for something to say. I blurt out the first thing I think of. “How about those Coyotes?”
Mae’s head snaps up. “What?”
“I said, how about those Coyotes?”
She stares at me with apparent confusion.
“I was trying to change the subject, and hockey was the first thing that came to mind.”
“Oooh,” she says, looking oddly relieved. “I’m not much of a sports person,” she explains.
“No worries.” At least I got her mind off my fuckup. My phone goes off in my pocket. Tugging it free, I see Gwen’s name on the screen. “Mae, excuse me, please. I need to answer this.” Pushing back my chair, I rise and walk a handful of steps away so as not to be rude. The space I placed between us will make it less likely for Mae’s presence to distract me from my conversation with Gwen.