Which was another reason why it had felt so good to be in Jillian’s bed tonight. No second thoughts or hesitation. I’d felt more confident, more relaxed, more myself than I had in years. It was like some part of me had been silenced for so long—the part that was just a man with his own needs and wants and self-interests apart from being Scotty’s father—I’d forgotten he even existed (aside from the occasional furnace maintenance).
But suddenly he had a voice. Was it selfish of me to listen to it? I’d made a promise to my son, and I intended to keep it. I knew that was right.
But being with Jillian felt right too.
I couldn’t walk away.
After Levi left, I had some soup, poured some wine, and stared at the same page in the book I was reading for an hour, a silly grin on my face. Eventually, I gave up reading and got in bed, which still smelled like Levi and sex. I lay on my side, hugging my second pillow and breathing in the scent, my stomach fluttering as if I’d swallowed a flight of doves for dinner.
Moment by moment, I relived the hour we’d spent here, relishing each kiss and caress, each sigh and moan, each dirty word from his mouth and every thrust of his cock inside me.
I’d be sore tomorrow.
I didn’t care.
Flopping onto my back, I smiled at the ceiling and wondered how soon we could do it again. I was still lying there, thinking about all the things I wanted to do to him next time we were together, when I heard my phone vibrate. I glanced at my clock and saw it was after midnight.
Rolling to my side, I picked up my phone, hoping it was him. It was.
Get out of my head already. I’m trying to sleep.
I grinned. Me too.
I’m sorry I had to leave so fast.
Don’t be. I’ll be sore enough as it is in the morning.
Is it bad that I’m proud of that?
No. You can be proud.
I want to see you again.
Under the covers, I wiggled my toes. When?
Next weekend?
Want to come over for dinner?
Yes. Thank you for the soup. I ate it all and licked the bowl.
Doesn’t surprise me. You like to lick things.
Things that are delicious.
I smiled. I will have something delicious here for you, I promise.
I know you will. And I’m getting hard just thinking about it. But it’s my turn to make dinner. I’ll bring it.
OK. What night?
Friday? Sorry it can’t be sooner.
Don’t be. During the week is hard for me too. I don’t mind being your Girl Friday. But I wondered how much time he’d have. How was Scotty tonight?
Pretty good. I think he’d give me another hour on my curfew.
I laughed. How nice of him.
Hey. What’s your favorite movie?
Of all time? Vertigo.
Hitchcock fan, huh?
YES. What’s yours?
Shawshank Redemption.
Never seen it.
What? We need a movie date.
We needed all kind of dates. Deal. Favorite color?
Blue. Like your eyes.
My lips tipped up. Haha. Smooth.
Thank you. Now you.
Red. But not cherry red. Deeper.
You like it deep. I like that about you.
I gasped. You are so bad.
I know. Oh fuck hold on.
He was gone for a few minutes, and I figured Scotty had called him. His next message confirmed it.
Hey I’m sorry. I have to go. Scotty’s up.
I was disappointed, but I understood. It’s OK.
Talk soon. Night.
Night.
I set my phone aside and turned onto my side again, hoping everything was OK with Scotty. Did Levi ever get a full night’s sleep? Being a single parent had to be hard enough without throwing in all the extra issues he dealt with. And he was so devoted to his son. Clearly it would make dating difficult, if that’s what we were doing—I wasn’t even sure yet. But it also made him more attractive to me. Not only was he gorgeous and good in bed, he had a huge heart.
Was there room in it for me?
? ? ?
On Sunday evening, he called me. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“How’s my Girl Friday?”
I smiled. “Good. Just doing some reading.”
“About what?”
“Autism research, actually.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes. It’s very interesting, the genetic links they’re finding, what brain scans are revealing about neurological connectivity.”
“Yeah, I used to read some of that stuff, but it wasn’t very useful to me.”
“No?”
“No. It’s interesting, but there’s a disconnect, you know? I’m glad they’re making gains in understanding how autism looks in the brain, but that doesn’t help me deal with the meltdowns on my kitchen floor.”
“True,” I admitted. “What does help you?”
He sighed heavily. “Whiskey.”
I laughed and closed the window on my laptop. “How was your day?”
“Good. I’m on a homework break, and looking at the calendar for this week. Friday still work for you?”
“Yes. That’s perfect, actually.”
“Good. I’m going to get some groceries and come over at six.”
“I’ll supply the whiskey.”
“I don’t need whiskey with you. Just a way to stop time.”
I smiled, but I felt a little sad too. “I wish I could do it for you. I’ll see you Friday.”
? ? ?
On Thursday night, I met Natalie and Skylar for a drink at Trattoria Stella. They were already there when I arrived, Natalie sipping on water with lemon and Skylar still perusing the wine list.