17. Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Seventeen
Andre
School starts soon, so it’s important to get the kids back on a schedule.
I’m working on getting Rylee into a good routine to start school, since this will be her first year and she hasn’t had to do this before.
I’m helping her learn to tell time; this way she knows when she needs to do things, like shower and go to bed.
It’s been pretty easy for me. Rylee is my only kid, and she’s with me all the time.
But I see Paul struggling a bit with trying to get Maddox back on a schedule.
Him and Amelia have been on the same page with parenting Maddox, but co-parenting is a struggle regardless.
He’s allowed to stay up later, which Rylee doesn’t understand—okay, she understands, she just doesn’t agree with it.
She’s also more stubborn on the nights Maddox isn’t around.
They’ve grown close over the summer, especially since they’ve moved in, and I love that for her.
It’s exactly what she needs. I’m happy she’ll be starting school and will make more friends, especially around her age.
Maddox is definitely like a big brother to her, but it’s important for her to be around friends that are growing and developing the way she is.
I have an interview next week for a gym teacher position and coach at the high school. It feels weird to go through this process after so long, but I need to do what’s best for me and my daughter.
Coaching an NFL team is not something you give up on a whim. I hate that I had to do it, but you make sacrifices when you have a family, and this is one of them. Maybe one day, when Rylee gets older, I can go back to it. Right now, this is just what I need to do and that’s okay.
It’s been a busy week keeping the kids busy and managing this schedule thing. With Amelia back, Maddox hasn’t been around as much. On the nights he isn’t here, Paul is still around. He eats dinner with us. Goes out with us. Watches movies with us. Plays games with us.
It’s like we’ve created our own little family.
Everything works, feels right and normal.
He’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and he’s always been around, so it all makes sense we’d fit so easily.
Now, it’s just in a different capacity. In a way that I’m finding slightly confusing for myself.
Probably because I’m thinking about it too much.
To everyone, we look like two friends hanging out.
But for me, it’s more than that and I think he feels it too.
There’s a tension between us now. Nothing bad.
It’s actually very good. Electric. Almost impossible to ignore.
But we have been ignoring it and I’m not really sure why.
Every night over the last week, since that kiss, something has happened to make it impossible for us to do it again.
Like the universe’s way to tell us to slow down.
One night, we both fell asleep on the couch. Two nights ago, I fell asleep in bed with Rylee because she was saying it was too early to sleep and needed me to read her more bedtime stories.
Another night, the kids wanted to camp out in the living room, so we made forts and had tents set up. That one night turned into two.
But now it’s Friday again, and the kids are going to my parents'. Rylee still wants to keep this routine with them, and of course they love that. Maddox is always welcome, and he enjoys being over there too. The more family, the better.
We drive over there together to drop them off. My parents ask if we want to stay for dinner, but we both decline. I’m eager to get home and be alone with Paul. Have the opportunity for another kiss to happen—or more. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.
I’ve caught him looking at me quite a few times, and I’m pretty sure he’s thinking the same thing.
He said he’d do it again, and of course that could have changed, but I won’t know until we get back to the house.
We hug and kiss the kids goodbye, and they run off to play.
“Have a good night, boys,” my mother says with a smile.
“You too,” we call out as we head out the door and into the car.
“Freedom,” I say as we buckle our seatbelts.
Paul lets out a laugh that sounds almost nervous.
“Hey, you good?” I ask, turning to face him.
“Totally good.”
“What’s wrong? Something is wrong. I can tell. You’re fidgeting.”
“I’m fine. Really. Just, uh… you know.”
“I don’t know,” I say. “So you should tell me.”
He sighs, then looks me in the eye. “We’re going to be alone for the first time since last weekend.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Why is that making you nervous?”
“I-I don’t know. I don’t think it’s a bad nervous. Excited, maybe?”
That comment tells me all I need to know. If he’s excited, then I don’t think he’s changed his mind. But the only way I’ll know, is if I ask.
Paul and I are both good communicators. I think it’s something we learned from playing sports.
Though his relationship didn’t work out, it wasn’t over miscommunication or lack of.
My marriage was great, and I was always the one to share or get Victoria to share things with me.
It’s important. So talking about things for me and Paul should be easy.
And it is. I think it’s just a little awkward.
But you’ll never know the answer to a question if you don’t ask it.
“Excited because you’ve been thinking about what will happen?”
“Yes,” he says with a firm nod. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”
I reach over and take his hand, not really sure what it means, but it feels right. His gaze goes to our hands, and he links our fingers together. Then his gaze comes to me.
“I’ve been thinking about it too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” I laugh. “I’m curious.”
“About?”
“Everything.”
“Me too.”
I pause a moment to start the car, having to let go of his hand, but I take it right back after I’m on the road.
“I’ve never been with a guy before,” I say. “Just so you know.”
“Neither have I.”
“Did you know you were into guys?”
“I think I’m just into you.”
I laugh again. “Yeah, I know the feeling.” I squeeze his hand. “Why do you think that is?”
“I don’t know. We just… fit?”
He’s right. We do.
The door closes heavily behind us, and I press my back to it. I watch Paul as he walks further into the house, but slows when he realizes I’m not following. He’s maybe fifteen feet away before he turns to face me.
I push off the door and stop when I’m in front of him. I can see the way his breathing has grown heavy, and I wonder if his heart is pounding as hard as mine is.
“This doesn’t have to be weird,” I say.
“I know.”
“And there are no expectations.”
“I know,” he says again. His gaze flicks to my lips, staying there for a second or two before looking back at my eyes. “How are we going to do this?”
“What is it that you want to do, Paul?”
He shakes his head slowly, his voice lowering. “I don’t know.”
I take a step closer, my thigh brushing his. “We could just go to the bedroom and see what happens.”
“Good idea.”
Our gazes stay locked for another moment before I step around him and head into the bedroom. I hear him following after me. I kick off my shoes, leaving them on the floor, which is something I never do, but I don’t care about my shoes right now.
I go right to the bed and lie down in my usual spot, leaning against the headboard so I’m in a slight sitting position.
Paul’s shoes are off too, laying right by mine. He’s standing at the end of the bed, looking at me like he doesn’t know what to do.
“Come here.” I hold out my hand.
He comes around my side of the bed, takes my hand, and I pull him over me.
It’s a little clumsy, but I find his mouth to distract us both.
He moans when I squeeze the back of his neck and slide my tongue into his mouth.
He shifts on top of me to get more comfortable, and in the process, he presses himself against my dick, which has me groaning.
I haven’t been with anyone since Victoria, and I’ve never since I’ve been with a guy.
I mean, I can figure out the basics of it, and at the end of the day, we only ever need to do what feels good and right for us.
So that’s what I focus on; what feels good. What feels easy and not at all weird. We kiss and explore each other, enjoying what we’re doing, but not rushing anything. Yes, I could do more, but this doesn’t need to be rushed. We can take time to figure things out.
So that’s what I do.
I run my hands all over him, seeing where he likes to be touched the most. He does the same to me, sliding his hands under my shirt. Over my arms, around my throat, and my jaw.
At some point, the kissing turns more heated, and Paul shifts to grind against me.
“That feels good,” I groan against his lips.
My hands slide down to his ass, and I pull him against me more, wanting more pressure. He moves against me in a steady rhythm, and I find myself getting close to coming. The heat in my stomach grows, my dick getting harder.
I grab onto him and roll him over so he’s beneath me. His legs wrap around me and I keep thrusting against him, knowing I’m going to come in my pants like a virgin. But it feels good, so I focus on that rather than being embarrassed of it being so quick.
“Dre,” he whines, nails digging into my back.
I nip at his jaw, kissing his neck as I keep grinding against him.
“Fuck—” The orgasm hits, my dick pulsing behind my jeans.
Paul is moaning, holding onto me. My body goes limp, and I rest my weight on my elbows so I don’t crush him. We’re both panting, and it takes a second for me to realize what the hell just happened. I push myself up and look down between us. We both have wet stains on our pants.
“Did you…” I start.
“Oh yeah,” he says with a smile.
I lean in to kiss him. Just a quick, soft kiss. “We should probably go wash up.”
“Good idea.”
We make our way to the bathroom, getting into the shower and taking turns washing up.
When we’re done, we get dressed and go outside to sit by the pool.
Summer will be over soon, and we won’t get this for a while.
We swim for a bit. Lay out in the sun. Drink beers.
Cook on the grill. Listen to music. Swim some more.
Before we know it, the sun is going down, and I’ve had one of the best days ever.