Roger never suspected that Justin and I had been sucking face just moments before he picked me up. I’d checked my reflection in the mirror before opening the door and attributed the delay to breastfeeding.
We stopped at Maggie’s for takeout lattes on the way to the jazz festival which was held on the grounds of Fort Adams at the mouth of Newport harbor. Three stages were set up, each featuring a different jazz band. It was a gorgeous afternoon with only a slight chill in the air. The location featured panoramic views of the Newport Bridge and the East Passage.
I tried my best to focus on the scenery and music, but my mind was elsewhere. I could still feel Justin’s kiss, could still taste him on my tongue. My panties were soaked. I wondered what it all meant, if things were going to be different now.
A text alert sounded.
Justin: Stop thinking about me.
Amelia: You are egotistical. You only kissed me because I was going out with Roger.
Justin: Technically, you kissed me.
Amelia: How is Bea?
Justin: Changing the subject?
He then answered my earlier question by sending me a selfie of Bea and him. They were both lying flat on the living room rug. Bea was smiling. It was freaking adorable.
Amelia: Looks like you guys are having a good time.
Justin: We miss you. You should ditch him and come hang out with us.
Amelia: I’m a little scared to come home to be honest.
Justin: I won’t bite. I promise. Unless you ask me to, in which case I’ll do it so gently you won’t feel any pain.
Amelia: I can’t text anymore. It’s rude.
Justin: We need to talk later.
Amelia: About what?
Justin: I’d like to apply for the position.
Amelia: What position?
Justin: Your casual fuck buddy.
Amelia: What???
Justin: We’ll talk later.
I didn’t even know what to say, so I put my phone away.
Roger put his hand on my shoulder. “Is everything alright at home?”
Not exactly.
“Oh, yes. I was just checking on Bea. Everything is fine.”
“Want to go grab an early dinner?”
Even though Justin’s text had managed to squelch my appetite, I said, “Sure. That would be great.”
Roger and I left the festival grounds and had dinner at the Brick Alley Pub. We talked non-stop throughout our meal. He spoke about his upcoming trip to Irvine to visit his daughter. He beamed with pride whenever he spoke of Alyssa, and it occurred to me how lucky she was to have a father who cared for her so deeply; Bea wouldn’t have that. I could only hope that someone would fill that role for my daughter someday.
Despite the sexual game Justin was playing all of a sudden, he still gave me no assurance that he really wanted to be with us long term. Even though he was so great with Bea, there was no real indication that he was interested in being more than just her “uncle.” His assertion that we should be “fuck buddies” certainly didn’t count. Justin and I couldn’t really be together so long as he didn’t want children in the long term.
Roger drove me home after dinner. I intentionally didn’t invite him in because I wasn’t in any mood for Justin’s antics.
He lingered. “I hope we can go out again soon.”
“I’d really like that,” I said.
Despite my obsessing over Justin throughout the day, I really did enjoy Roger’s company. He was smart, articulate and a really good listener.
When I opened the door, Justin was sitting on the couch watching television. Bea was cradled in the crook of his arm.
“How was it?”
“It was a lot of fun, actually. You would love the jazz festival. You should check it out. Tomorrow is the last day,” I said, plopping down on the couch next to him.
“Good.” He smiled, but it was more of a chastising grin.
I took Bea from him and kissed her. “I missed you, Bea Bee.”
“I’ll get up so you can feed her in private. I suppose you’re not hungry for dinner.”
“No. Roger took me to the Brick Alley Pub.”
His expression darkened. “Great.”
Pots and pans clanked as Justin not-so-quietly prepared himself something to eat in the kitchen while I fed Bea. She fell asleep on my breast, so I put her upstairs in her crib. It was earlier than her normal bedtime, so I knew she would probably be waking me up in the middle of the night.
When I returned to the kitchen, Justin looked like he’d been waiting for me. He was wearing a gray hoodie that was halfway zipped up over his bare chest. He had the hood over his head. Looking quite tense, he was pulling at his sleeves.
“We need to talk, Amelia.”
“Alright.”
He lifted his face to look me straight in the eyes. “I don’t want you going out with him again.”
“You can’t dictate who I go out with.”
“Well, I don’t want you going out with anyone.”
“I don’t understand how you think you have a right to say that.”
“Then hear me out.”
“I’m listening.”
“You said you don’t want anything serious right now.”
“That’s right.”