“That I do,” Linden says, making his accent more exaggerated. It also has the secondary effect of turning me on.
My mother ushers us into the lounge off of the dining room, where my father is indeed sitting in his usual leather chair and sipping from a highball glass. He gestures to the loveseat beside him where we sit down.
It’s kind of weird being with Linden like this in front of my parents, or in front of anyone, really. In this new stage of our, well, pact, we’ve usually been alone. Now that we are on the sofa together, squished against each other, I’m not really sure what to do with my hands. I wanted Linden as a buffer and I want my parents to approve of him, but I don’t know exactly how we’re supposed to act with each other. We’d never talked about that.
But Linden immediately puts his arm around me and holds me close to him. So that settles that. There are no questions now.
My father raises a good eye brow as he looks at us. “Is this a new thing?” he asks.
Well, you haven’t really been around for a few years, I want to say. But I don’t. I’m not here to rock any boats.
I can feel Linden’s eyes on me, searching for the right answer. When I don’t say anything, he looks at my dad and says, “It’s a bit of a new thing. I woke up one day and decided life was too short to be just friends with a girl like your daughter.”
My dad doesn’t look too impressed so he shouts to my mom in the kitchen, “Hey honey, you never told me that Stephanie and the Scottish guy were an item!”
“They aren’t an item, they’re just friends,” my mom yells back.
“No,” my dad says. “They most definitely aren’t just friends.”
And as if to add to that, Linden puts his other hand on my leg and gives it a squeeze.
My mom’s heels click click click from outside the room and then she’s in the doorway, peering at us in mild shock.
“Well,” she says. “Stephanie, a bit of notice would have been good.”
“Why?” I say, hating how everyone is making such a big deal out of this.
She puts a hand on her hip. “It’s one thing for me to make dinner for you and your friend, it’s another thing to make it for you and your boyfriend.”
“He’s not –” I say and then stop myself. Linden’s face is right there and he’s staring at me, waiting for me to go on. But I can’t do it. I know he’s not my boyfriend but in some ways he’s way more than that term. I lick my lips and look back at her. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But Linden is happy eating anything, really.”
I hear him snicker slightly from beside me and I gently elbow him in the gut.
The rest of the evening goes rather smoothly. We sit with my dad and chat about current events and when Linden mentions his family, then some big discussion about politics and Britain and other shit gets started. I know Linden hates it, but it’s true that when people find out that his father was an ambassador that they look at him differently, with more respect. Which is crazy because I respect Linden more for what he does, not what his family is a part of. I respect him from wanting to be separate from that whole thing and be his own man.
Meanwhile, during dinner, I’m busy trying to decipher just what the hell is going on with my parents. They are acting like a bunch of star-crossed teenagers, all gaga eyed and extra polite to each other. I suppose I should be mature and think it’s really sweet but there’s a part of me that just doesn’t get it.
It isn’t until after the meal when my father invites Linden to step outside and have a cigar with him – a good thing since that’s always been a sign that my dad really likes you – that I have a chance to be alone with my mom.
But before I can even say anything she’s asking me about Linden.
“When on earth did the two of you get together?” she asks, putting the last of the dishes away. My mom cleans as she cooks, so there’s actually never anything to help her with after the meal is over.
“A few weeks ago,” I tell her as I nurse my glass of wine, not really wanting to get into it.
She folds her arms and leans back against the counter. “And are you serious about him?”
I roll my eyes. “Look, I don’t know.”
She studies my face for a moment. “Yes you do. Why are you holding out on me?”
I smile at her choice of words. “I’m not holding out on you, mom. It’s just new. And it’s complicated. And I don’t know what we are.”
“You’re sleeping together.”
“Mom,” I warn.
“I hope you’re using protection.”
“Mom,” I say again. “Please. I’m thirty. I know these things. Next you’re going to tell me to be careful because boys are only after one thing.”
“No, I won’t tell you that,” she says, folding a drawer of dishcloths, “because I can see that he’s after more than that.”
I don’t say anything but a small part of me is elated that she noticed.
“But,” she goes on, “I also see you’re being cautious. That’s a good thing but don’t let it get between you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I know it can be complicated, as you say, going from friends to lovers. But that’s how some of the best relationships start.”
“Right. But that can also be how some of the best relationships end.”
“That is true,” she says, her voice sing song. “But it’s always worth a risk. Especially as you get older.”
“Again, mom, I’m only thirty.”
“I know, I know. Quit reminding me how old you are, it only makes me feel older.” She shuts the drawer and sighs. “When you’re young, you see the world in black and white. When you get older, you realize it’s always been grey. Same goes for love.”
“Are you talking about me and Linden now or you and dad?”
She smiles to herself and it makes her face look even more delicate. “Your father and I had a real rough patch. Actually, it’s always been rough. If it wasn’t for you and your brother, especially your brother, we would have gotten a divorce a very long time ago. But we held off for both your sakes. That wasn’t how life worked. So when the time was right, your father decided to move on from me.”
I’m having a hard time trying to absorb this information. The whole time growing up, I thought my parents were madly in love with each other, just because they were parents and that’s what they were supposed to be. Turned out, I had no idea what “settling” looked like. Now I do.
“I know it isn’t easy for you to understand,” she continues, “and it’s even harder to explain. But I knew it was the thing to do. What I didn’t know, what I didn’t realize, was how much I missed your father. How much I actually loved him. I ignored it for a while, not wanting to risk it again. I think he was doing the same, that’s why he wasn’t as in touch with you. But when he called me one day, out of the blue, wanting to talk, I thought maybe we could take it slow.”
“So…this is you taking it slow? Is that why he doesn’t live here?”
She nods. “He comes to see me a few times a week. We go on dates. It’s…nice. And it’s unconventional. Our friends don’t understand but it works for us. Shades of grey, you see. Sometimes things work out with the person you never expected. Sometimes that person is your husband. Sometimes they end up being your best friend.”
While I’m pondering that, my dad and Linden come back in the room, smelling like cigars, which is actually a smell I happen to love. As Linden removes his shoes, my dad goes over to my mom and kisses her lovingly on the cheek. She waves her apron at him to waft the stink away.
So, my mom and my dad are dating. Each other. I guess there are worse scenarios out there.
On the way back home to the city, I’m not saying much. I’m lost in my thoughts. I’m thinking that maybe I shouldn’t be so cautious anymore with Linden. Maybe I need to seriously look at where this is all going. Is this really a stage of the pact? Are we doing this because we want to marry each other? Suddenly the
idea of marrying him because of a promise we made years ago seems wrong.
I want Linden because I’m in love with him. That’s the only reason there should be.
Always observant, Linden turns down the classic rock station we’re listening to on the radio and the car hums with silence for a beat. The he says, “So I guess I’m your boyfriend.”
I give him a half-smile. “Sorry. I didn’t know what to say back there.”
He frowns, his expression turning serious. “Don’t be sorry. I would love to be that to you.”
“Really?”
“Aye,” he says, “even though it sounds a bit juvenile now, doesn’t it?”
“Well, I guess we could refer to each other as lovers. I mean, that’s what we are, right?”
“And at dinner parties be like, ‘oh Jeeves, would you like to meet my lover, Stephanie’?”
I giggle. “Maybe not quite like that. We’re not old or, I don’t know, French enough for that.”
“Then I guess boyfriend works.”
“I guess.”
“And you’re my girlfriend.” He reaches across and picks my hand off the stick shift. He kisses my knuckles gently. “But really, you’re my everything. And there’s nothing that will change that.”
I really hope he’s right.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
LINDEN
“What the hell are you wearing?”
I’m at Stephanie’s front door and she’s staring at me like I’m an alien from another planet.
If I was, I would be from the Planet of the Sharks.
As in the San Jose Sharks.
I decided it would be fun to take her out on a surprise date and since she says she’s never been to a Sharks game and I almost always go with James, I thought that this would be quite the surprise indeed.
But at the moment, she’s probably just confused as to why I’m dressed all in blue and have a plush shark mascot head over my own.
“Hockey!” I announce and hand her the tickets. “We’re going to a Sharks game, baby blue.”
She raises a brow, still looking me over. “That is what I was praying you’d say.”
“Come on,” I say, throwing my arms out to the side, “get excited. You’ve always wanted to go.”
She just stares at me. I sigh and remove the mask from my head. “Okay, does this help?”
She grins at me and comes out into the hall to kiss me. Her lips feel especially soft today, her tongue especially frisky. She smells and tastes like mint and sugar.
I’m hard in a second. “You know, this shark head could be a little fun if you’re up for some roleplaying.”
She bites my lower lip, tugging on it slightly, inhaling my breath. “The only thing you’ll be playing is tied up to my bed,” she purrs.
Yes. Yes please.
Suddenly hockey seems like a stupid idea. “You know what? The Sharks can wait. We can see them another day.”
She grins and puts her hand on my chest, feeling my hard muscle for one appreciative moment before she shoves me back. “No way, San Jose,” she says, her eyes gleaming. She turns around and heads back into the apartment, grabbing her purse off the kitchen counter before locking the door behind her. “Let’s go.”
I groan in disappointment but it doesn’t matter. We’ll be coming back to her place later and I’m going to hold her to it. The shark mask might even make an appearance.
I drive us down the freeway to San Jose, which normally doesn’t take that long unless you’re stuck in traffic like we are. Sometimes it feels like the whole city migrates on game days, especially as we get into the hockey season. The holiday season doesn’t help either. It’s like the moment Thanksgiving is over (which I spent with Stephanie and her parents), everyone decides they must be driving to a mall somewhere to buy presents twenty-four hours a day. Christmas is at least three weeks away.
A lot has changed in the last month and a bit. I finally learned to let go of the guilt I felt over Nadine, so that helped me enjoy my happiness with Stephanie a lot more. Actually Nadine made it easier on me. She did end up staying in the flat I got for her the full month but she also quit her job as receptionist. I’m not sure where she’s living or working now but my boss said it was a good move for her and I just have to take his word on that.
It was such a messy ordeal, what happened, but in the end I don’t regret it for a second. Being with Stephanie in this way, the way I always wanted, is better than I could have ever expected.
“Remember that whole cock in the cockpit?” Stephanie suddenly says as we crawl forward at a snail’s pace. “Or at least the attempt at one?”
I swivel my head toward her, stunned. It’s like she heard my thoughts on how amazing she is. “Yes.”
“This might make being stuck in traffic a good thing.” She gives me a wanton smile and places her hand on my crotch.
“Right now?” I can’t believe I’m even questioning this but… “There are cars all around us.”
“Oh relax, it’s dark out,” she says. “My side is the shoulder, the person behind us can’t see what we’re doing because of the wheel at the back of the Jeep, the person in front of us only sees your headlights and whoever is beside you…well, let’s hope they mind their own business.”
I look over at the person beside us. It’s a pair of middle-aged men dressed in Bruins jerseys, the jackasses we’re playing against tonight. Actually I don’t mind giving them a show.
She increases the pressure from her hand and then unzips my fly, folds down the waistband of my briefs and pulls the tip of my cock out. I can see precum already glistening on it.
“Such a beautiful dick,” she murmurs, her fingers coiling around my length and giving it a hard squeeze.
Fuck me. I close my eyes, hissing in my breath and then open them before I nearly rear end the car in front of us. This is actually going to be difficult. Thank god I had enough sense not to follow through while in the air.
I’m not even sure if this makes sense even now but you won’t hear my protesting. Thirty-years old and I’d never been given a blow job while in a moving vehicle. I’ve driven and fingerbanged someone in the passenger seat but that was back in high school.
I thought that was pretty cool back then but this is much, much better.
Stephanie strokes me up and down, her grip firm and hard, then she takes the rest of my dick and balls out. My body stiffens, waiting for her.
She makes sure she has enough slack with her seatbelt and leans over, taking my cock into her mouth and my balls into her other hand. I have a war against my eyelids that desperately want to close to take the whole sensation in. It’s dangerous but I don’t want her to stop.
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and for the first time ever I’m thankful the Jeep is automatic. Stephanie’s head bobs up and down beneath my chest and I curl my free hand into her hair, pulling on her strands.
“You crave that cock, don’t you baby,” I murmur, my grip tightening in her hair, pushing her head down further until I can almost feel her tonsils. “You love sucking me off, the feel of my cum sliding down the back of your throat. Yeah, that’s my baby. Just like that, just like that.”
She continues, her lips, tongue, mouth and hand working in perfect unison; my precum and her saliva making the best lubricant. My body goes from stiffening to jerking from the damning need to release my semen inside her and there is one small window of mercy to take advantage of. The cars around us all come to a standstill, a sea of red lights amongst the darkness. I quickly put the Jeep in park before I take my foot off the brake.
This is happening now.
“Suck it, suck,” I hiss at her, trying to breathe. “So, so good baby.”
And then it’s like I’m hit by a truck, only we’re both here and better than fine. My orgasm slams into me with violent spasms that have me digging my nails into her head and muttering obscenities under my ragged breath. Then it slips over me like a warm, numb bath filled with pins and needl
es, and I’m conscious of never feeling so alive and yet so drugged as right fucking now.
Bloody hell.
She pulls her mouth away, a trail of saliva lingering behind and then tucks my spent dick back in my pants. “Well that was fun,” she says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and giving me a wicked smile.
I can barely form words. I just nod. Then the traffic starts to move and I snap to attention, putting the Jeep out of park and jolting forward. I look over to the car beside us to make sure there’s enough room to pull in front of them, when I remember it’s the Boston Bruin fans.
And judging by their wide eyes and open mouths, they just caught the whole show.
I quickly roll down the window, stick my finger out and yell, “Bruins suck!” at them, before I cut them off and speed through the now moving traffic.
By the time we get to the game, I’m high on life and adrenaline and Stephanie. I limit myself to one beer but ply her with overpriced wines and we cheer on the Sharks all the way to the third period. She doesn’t even mind when I put on my shark hat and start dancing after every goal.
In fact, sometimes she looks at me in this way I can’t really describe but it does things to my heart. It warms me up, from head to toe and my chest is the epicenter. I just want to bottle that look and hold onto forever, open it on a cold, foggy day and feel bright and alive all over again.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m falling in love with her.
Sometimes I wonder how long I can pretend I’m not.
Just after the third period starts, that bloody Dentyne-sponsored “Kiss Cam” goes into action and after making two other couples awkwardly make-out, it settles on us.
Yup. Our faces are up there on the Jumbotron for all the fans to see.
I shrug and look at Steph and she smiles shyly at me, trying not to look in the direction of the hidden camera. I put my hands on both sides of her face and kiss her passionately. Like, I really go at it. If you’re going to do something, do something right.