“When was the last time you had sex?” she presses. “Max’s dad?”
I hesitate. It’s a subject that doesn’t come up. Not sex. Sex comes up all the time. That’s what happens when your roommate has the libido of a sixteen-year-old boy. Max’s father. We don’t talk about him. I shut the conversation down the first time he came up and she’d stayed away from the topic since then. “Yeah, I guess.”
It’s the most I’m willing to share.
“You guess?” Apparently it’s still too much. “If you can’t remember it’s even worse than I thought. This is an emergency.” She abandons the sauce and grabs the vibrator, trying to shove it into my hands.
After a few minutes of her chasing me around the kitchen, trying to show me the various settings, I give. “Will you stop? I prefer the real deal.”
“Are you asexual? Is that it?” She eyes me as if she can analyze where I’ve gone so wrong.
“No, I’m tired and I’m a mom and I don’t have time for sex. If I wanted to, I’m sure…”
“Yeah, I bet the Orkin Man in there would be happy to help,” she says dryly.
“Orkin Man?” Jude’s deep baritone interrupts us.
I jump, but Amie panics and tosses the dildo to me. Having never been an athlete, I don’t catch it. It lands at my feet in all its purple majesty and rolls a few feet to the center of the kitchen. Jude sees it all and somehow keeps a straight face.
“I got the motor replaced. You can now freely roll down your window without fear. No major repairs needed,” he informs me as though there isn’t a bright, plastic penis lying on the floor.
“I owe you so much.” I push Amie forward, stepping around her as she scoops up the renegade sex toy.
“About that…”
I plaster on a smile as my heart begins to pound against my rib cage.
“How about dinner?”
“Well, you’re in luck. Amie made her famous mac-n-cheese.” I bite my lip, hoping things don’t go any farther. And hoping they do.
“Actually, I want to take you out.”
“You did the work.”
“So I should get to pick dinner, and I feel like Chinese.”
“Okay! Chinese food not sex!” I burst out.
He raises an eyebrow, but betrays no surprise. “Deal. I never mix Chinese food and sex anyway.”
I pray for a hole to open under my feet and swallow me. Instead Max darts into the kitchen and barrels into Jude. But before I can apologize or pull Max away, he wraps himself tightly around Jude’s legs. Max beams up and at him. For all the willpower Jude showed in the last few minutes, he can’t resist grinning back at my son’s adoring face. The knot I usually feel low in my belly around this man winds itself around my heart and tightens.
There was a reason I’d refused him the first time he’d offered to help with the Civic. I remember that now as I stare at the dangerous scene unfolding in front of me. I’ve chosen to believe I could be enough to make up for the absence of Max’s father. In this moment I know I’ve failed.
“Dinner.” My voice is tight and Amie immediately jumps into action.
“I’ve got it. Max and I will hang tonight.” She picks Max up and heads to a cabinet, calling over her shoulder. “You two go on.”
Am I really going to do this? I’m not certain what message leaving with Jude will send Max.
But Jude doesn’t give me a chance to back out. He moves toward me and places a hand on the small of my back, and the slight contact sends me back to that night in the rain and the forbidden kiss we shared. “I’ll have her home early. Grab your purse.”
Even as my mind continues its run-down of all the reasons this is a horrible idea, my body shifts into auto-pilot, doing exactly as he says. A tingling sensation radiates from fingertips up my arms to the back of my neck. Excitement. I can’t deny the anticipation building within me even as my brain tries to argue against my actions. But I can’t fight my feelings while he’s touching me, even in such an innocent way. Because the gesture is so protective, so safe, that I can’t deny my urge to go with him.
Sorry, sweetheart, you’re losing this battle.
“Mind if we take my car?” he asks as he leads me toward the front door.
“Don’t want to be seen in mine?” In all fairness, it might no longer sound like it’s chewing scrap metal, but it’s probably filled with old french fries and junk mail. I don’t even remember the last time I bothered to vacuum it.
He opens the door with a shrug. “I’ve already been seen in it. I only thought you might enjoy being the one driven around for once.”
Such a simple offer but one laced with attention. I’m always the one in control–the responsible one. Even splitting a lot of the domestic tasks with Amie basically equates to finding enough time for each of us to get things done. She has the restaurant. I have a kid. We help each other as a matter of survival not luxury. I can’t remember the last time I handed full control of my time over to another person.