He puts the cup down on a dishtowel and slaps me on the back. “Holy shit. ’Bout time, you asswipe. How long have you been in love with her? A dozen years or so?”
“Something like that,” I reply. He’s off on the number, but it’s clear he knows it’s been a while now. “How did you figure it out, anyway? And why didn’t you say anything before?”
He laughs. “Seriously? You were the most uptight, closed-off, scared-shitless kid I ever met. I think if I’d told you I knew you were crushing on her, you would have died on the spot.”
I throw a rag at him, and he swats it away, laughing harder. “Knock it off, pencil dick,” I tell him. “I’m not like that anymore.”
Xander waggles his brows. “That much is clear. Sounds like she’s got it bad for your army body, beefcake.”
“I love her,” I say quietly, the smile fading from my face. “It’s not just sex for me. She means everything.”
My brother sighs and claps my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. The empathy in his eyes is easy to see. “I know, bro. Seriously, I’m glad for you. I’ve been waiting to see what would happen, if you’d ever nut up and tell her you want her. I’m assuming it went well?”
The Guinness guy waves at Xander, then points at his menu.
“Hold that thought,” he tells me, then goes to the other end of the bar to take the guy’s food order.
Yes, it did go well. So damn well it surprised me, especially since the night had started off so awkwardly at the bar. I made breakfast this morning for Lauren, and she sighed in pleasure as she inhaled a huge stack of pancakes—loaded with chocolate chips, the way she likes them, of course.
Okay, so when she first woke up, it was a little strained, I admit. She was wearing one of my shirts, the hem barely covering her crotch, those long legs strolling across the floor toward me, her hair mussed and cheeks pink. But once we got in our rhythm, the unease faded and we were back to our usual selves.
We ate breakfast, showered—I even restrained myself from jumping in the shower and soaping up those beautiful tits of hers, though I reserve the right to do that in the future—and I gave her a kiss on her brow before she left, promising to call later.
The idea of having that every day, of waking up with her in my bed, us getting ready together, me knowing all day that I’d be the luckiest fuck in the world because I was coming home to her…it’s been hounding me.
I’ve had Lauren now. Tasted her. Held her. Been inside her. And I want more. I want it all, and I won’t settle for anything less. Now even more than before.
I take over washing the cups for Xander to give me something to do. Wash, rinse, dry, put away. Methodical and slow.
I could be good for Lauren, and she could be good for me. I just have to get her to see that I’m the man who can make her happy forever. Because no one will love her as much as I do. No one knows every intimate secret about her like I do. This doesn’t have to be the end of our friendship, but another extension of it.
We could be best friends and lovers too.
Probably the scariest thing of all is that I have hope. Real, living hope, swelling in my heart, knowing that I’m finally making my dream a reality. I’m determined to give this woman everything I have, because she’s worth the risk.
A minute after I finish drying the last dish, my phone rings. I glance down at the caller ID. It’s Dad.
“Xander, I’m taking a break,” I say, and the seriousness in my tone must alert him to something happening.
He nods, and I step out onto the empty back patio. The sunshine is warm, and the air is still. I answer the call. “Hello?”
“Son. Hey. It’s me.” Dad’s voice is slow as he talks, the words measured with a deliberate leisurely tempo. Pretty unlike him, who likes to get to the point fast.
Unease settles in my chest. “I can tell. What’s going on, Dad? Where are you?”
He sighs, and the sound is so ragged and pained that it makes me cringe. Something is definitely up. Dad’s never this emotional. “I just… I’m sorry. For running like that. It was cowardly of me.” There’s the slightest hint of a slur in his voice. Shit. He’s drunk. “I just… You know? I can’t keep it like this, and I’ve been…fighting it for so long, and it’s all done.”
“Yeah, it’s been hard on all of us,” I tell him in a soothing tone, trying to decipher his confusing words. Mom and I struggled so much when I was growing up, but I still miss her. It’s so fucking weird being at home, expecting her to be in a room when I turn the corner. My first couple of days back, I felt like she was haunting everywhere I went. “But running away doesn’t solve anything. Come home. Let’s talk about it. We’ll figure it out—”