* * *
Naked and still a bit dampfrom our quick, lazy shower, our bodies are curled together underneath her down comforter in the center of her bed.
She smells like comfort, and that’s the only way I can describe it. Our hearts seem to beat in sync, with my chest pressed to her back, one of my legs draped over both of hers.
She yawns, and I can tell she’s dozing off. “I think I was holding onto Dustin all this time because I was hopeful that as easily as he had a whole secret side to him, maybe he’d revert back to the other him that I knew and show up for his son. Not for me.”
“I get that.”
She yawns again, pulling my arms more tightly around her, snuggling with them at her chest. “If he wanted to party or go out more, I would have probably let him. But he hid what he really wanted from me. Not that it would have ever worked out with us, obviously, but still.” She gives a final yawn. “It’s scary when a person can hide such big things about themselves.”
A moment later, her breathing grows soft and rhythmic, and I know she’s asleep.
Her words haunt me. We just made up.
And I still haven’t told her that, in Atticus’s words,I am the fucking Wrench King.And again, in Atti’s words, it’s not about the money; it’s about the truth.
I hardly sleep a wink all night, despite the fact it’s our first night together.
Fuck.
18
Beck
“But I love funny business. I’m so good at it.”
Ithought I’d slept well for years. Before Jett, I was a person who easily got eight hours, even when I was super busy. I always made time for my sleep because I slept so well.
Sleeping in Beau’s arms makes me realize another new thing about myself: I’ve never slept well until now.
Seriously.
I didn’t toss or turn; I didn’t even change positions the entire night until he woke before me this morning, shifting carefully not to disturb me. It wasn’t him trying to slide his arm out from under me that woke me, but the hard cock pressed into the small of my back. It was like waking up at gunpoint.
I turned in his arms, catching him before he slid out of bed. We shared a lazy kiss, and neither of us cared that we hadn’t brushed our teeth yet. Waking in the arms of someone that makes you happy to wake up is more powerful than morning breath is a deterrent. He slid out of bed and jumped into a pair of pants, and I pulled on a t-shirt and some sweats, and he kissed the back of my neck down the hall as we made our way to the kitchen where we are now.
With Goldie.
Because in our lovesick haze, we forgot about Goldie.
And in our lovesick haze, I forgot that I needed to pump last night, which has put me painfully close to an explosion this morning.
Goldie is already dressed in a tiny workout top and spandex shorts; her long hair pulled into a high pony on top of her head. Her face is bare, and she’s holding a mug right to her lips. She grins.
“Hi, again Beau.” She wiggles her eyebrows, and even though this is my house, he is my boyfriend, and I’m not sneaking anything…. I still blush, which earns an uproar of laughter from her.
“You guys totally did it last night,” she teases.
“Grow up, Goldie,” I smirk, setting the kettle in the sink to fill.
“Good morning, Goldie. Nice to see you again,” Beau says in the exact right tone. He’s friendly, but he isn’t so friendly that he trips my spidey senses. I’m starting to think the man puking in the trash can I called a kid for weeks is actually… perfect. For me, at least.
Goldie and Beau make small talk about Jeopardy, and she tells him all about the man she met at my dad’s place last night. Turns out, he’s a headhunter, and she’s looking to get into the field. I had no idea, so as I pour boiling water into my French press, I hear everything for the first time, right along with Beau.
He asks insightful questions, nods his head, and generally seems to care about what she’s saying. After a few minutes, she glances at her watch. “I gotta go for a run. I'm meeting Frank Jr. at 10.”
I slap my hand across my forehead. “FrankTrello, Jr.?!”