by Rowan Shaw
His expression turned grave so fast, I regretted saying anything. "You and I still have to work until then. If I could, I'd take the whole time off and just spend all day here, but I can't do that. I'll try to spend every free second I have with you, though."
"Won't that make things worse?"
He stared at me pointedly. "Brandon, I already miss you, and you're not even gone yet. I don't see how it could possibly get worse."
Chapter 35
PATRICK
I couldn't believe I'd put myself in this position. I knew getting involved would bite me in the ass. And yet, if I could go back and change everything, I wouldn't. Every day, I waited for that time when I could finally see him. I had trouble focusing at work. Brandon let me spend the majority of every night inside him, and there was nowhere else I'd rather be. I had trouble leaving him in the morning, and I was constantly late. If my secretary wondered what was going on, she never said anything.
As the weeks went by, the thought of him leaving carved a deeper hole inside me. I couldn't imagine going home alone at night anymore. I couldn't fathom spending every day so far from him. But he hadn't changed his mind, and our relationship was still too fresh and new for me to ask him to stay.
I hadn't fallen in love with anyone in a long time, but I recognized the signs all right. I knew I should make it stop now, but it was already too late, and a masochistic part of me didn't want to let him go. I savored every second we spent together, tasting every bittersweet drop of time he was willing to concede until there was none left and he would have to leave.
I sat at my desk, my fingers steepled against my lips as I closed my eyes. I could still smell him on my skin even after my long shower, and I could still feel his body underneath mine and all around me. I didn't want to work. I dragged myself to the door when the time came for my first patient. The entire day felt like forever. Hours upon hours that I thought would never end.
Jean-François texted me at some point asking to grab some lunch, but I didn't have it in me to make small talk and pretend I was fine. I felt pathetic. I should be enjoying these last moments, but the ticking clock felt like a guillotine over my neck, its sharp blade ready to fall any minute.
I looked through my calendar and froze when I saw the date. Brandon was leaving in two weeks. He wouldn't let me help him make the arrangements for his move. He wouldn't let me pack his stuff with him either. He said it would only make things harder on us. He'd come to my place every night, and because I didn't watch his place slowly empty, I hadn't noticed how fast time was flying by.
My chest squeezed. I wondered when it'd gotten so damn hard to breathe. I was suffocating, and the feeling was fucking terrifying. Even when Cédric cheated on me and I'd dropped so low, it never was like this. I'd hated him so much, I wanted him to suffer as much as I did. But this thing with Brandon felt like I was withering. Knowing that he cared about me made everything so much worse.
I shook my head and gathered my coat when it was time to leave. It was December already, the gray clouds outside announcing snow that never came. I called Brandon as I stepped into the cold. The sun had set, the Christmas lights illuminating the entire city. I wanted to take him out to eat, but he asked if we could watch a movie and chill on my couch instead. That was fine with me. I was emotionally and physically exhausted.
"I'll pick up some pâtés Lorrains from the butcher's. Is that good?" I asked him on the phone.
"Yes, you know I love those."
"Anything else?"
"Smoked ham, maybe?" he suggested. "We could have it with butter and toast. Do you have toast?"
"Yes. See you then, mon amour."
I hung up and paused. Did I just call him "my love?" I closed my eyes and took a second to compose myself, then tightened the collar of my coat around my neck and headed down the street. I'd managed to get done before seven tonight, but I'd have to hurry if I wanted to find a store before it closed. I increased my pace until I reached the corner of the street where the butcher was located and walked inside with a smile for the man behind the counter.
"What can I do for you, Monsieur Lefèvre?" he asked.
He and the female baker were the only sellers in town who knew my name. They gave my life a more provincial feel than the other impersonal shops in the city.
I ordered our meal for the evening and wished him a good night before dropping by the baker's to get some bread. A sugary whiff of pastry welcomed me, the warmth of the shop wrapping around my body like a soothing blanket. I was in luck. They were about to close and only had one baguette left. I looked at the remaining pastries and got us two babas au rhum as well. I didn't know if Brandon liked those, but I didn't have time to text him.
"Bonne soirée," the baker said when I was done.
"A vous aussi."
I hoped the evening would be good indeed. I needed this dark cloud to clear out of my sky. Brandon always managed to filter through my bad mood within minutes like a ray of sunshine. But the cloud was growing larger as the days went by. Without a prospect of future joy, nothing seemed to pierce through anymore.
I dragged my feet along the streets, getting out of the way to let other pedestrians go by. The sound of sirens didn't even make me flinch as they usually would when the firemen's truck passed me by, trying to make it through the evening traffic.
I reached the steps of my apartment building and grinned when I saw him. "You've been waiting for long? It's cold out."
"Just a couple of minutes. But I do wish I could get inside without having to be buzzed in."
I gave him a quick kiss on the lips and showed him how to enter the code before leading him up the stairs.
"Need me to carry anything?" he asked, eyeing the bags in my hands and the baguette stuck under my arm.
"I'm good."
I let him in and didn't bother taking off my shoes before stepping into the kitchen, where I dropped everything on the table. I turned to him and pulled on his arm, dragging him into me.
"How was your day?" I asked, looking into his deep, dark eyes.
"All right. Yours?"
"Too long." I tilted my head to the side. "Something's different. Did you do something to your hair?"
"I got it styled."
"I like it." The short cut heightened his cheekbones and the shape of his strong, masculine jaw. He was clean-shaven as always, his plump lips so damn enticing.
I leaned in for a kiss, and he laughed against my mouth.
"What?" I asked, pulling back.
"You're prickling me." He sent a quick glance at our meal on the table. "Put it in the fridge. I'll shave you now."
I raised an eyebrow. "You'll shave me?"
"Yes. Come on." He jerked his head toward the door.
"Can I take a shower first?"
"May I join?"
I disentangled myself from his grasp and stuffed everything but the baguette in the fridge. His hand was warm against mine when I grabbed it and took a turn into the hallway. I led him to the bathroom so fast, he nearly stumbled over. I pinned him against the door and undressed us both hastily before kissing him hard, making him moan in my arms as I backed him toward my shower.
"I want you," I croaked, nuzzling his neck. "Raw."
Startled, he pulled back a bit.
"You and I got tested a few weeks ago," I reminded him. "We can use a rubber if you want, but I—"
He cut me off with a soft kiss and turned on the water blindly with one hand. We both gasped under the chilly coldness and laughed.
"Not really a good way to get me hard," I joked and cupped his face, shoving him against the wall before I explored his mouth with my tongue.
When the water warmed up, I grasped his waist and rotated him around. "Do you want me?"
"Yes."
"Do you want it raw?"
"Yes."
I wasn't cruel enough to take him without lubing up. I reached up for the bottle I always kept handy on one of the porcelain shelves. I was already stiffening at
the thought of penetrating him. I hadn't done anyone raw since I was with Cédric. It required trust—something I hadn't felt with anyone but Brandon.
"Do you trust me?" I asked against his chin, pushing my dick against the firm muscles of his ass.
"Yes."
I found his entrance and thrust inside. I'd lubed up so much that I slid in without much resistance. He was so damn warm around me, I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead against his shoulder. "I love you."
Brandon stopped moving in my arms. Even his moans grew quiet.
"You don't need to say it back," I whispered and kissed his shoulder blade. "God, I love you. I'm gonna miss you so damn much, and it's fucking killing me that you're leaving."
The vise on my chest released upon freeing myself from all those repressed emotions.
"I'm gonna miss you too," he said sadly and moved against me, inviting me to go deeper.
I began to rock my hips faster, my foreskin sliding up and down my glans, my tip so damn sensitive I was on the brink of insanity. It felt so damn good, I couldn't stifle my groans.
"I love you too," Brandon let out in between chills, his body tensing and relaxing the more his pleasure built.
"Spend the entire weekend with me," I begged as I fell apart, releasing freely inside him.
A strangled noise rose from his throat in his climax. He let himself go, his muscles squeezing my cock harder, making my orgasm last. I pressed my forehead against the crook of his neck and stilled to catch my breath before sliding in and out slowly. My entire body was so sensitive after the orgasm, every move was painful at this point.
"Spend the weekend with me," I beseeched again.
"Wei is coming over," he said, breaking the spell.
I gave a disappointed smile he couldn't see. Of course. I knew how he felt about me being around his daughter. I got it. It wasn't that he didn't trust me. It was that he didn't want her to get attached to me. I knew not to push whenever he had to take care of her. That time wasn't mine, and I accepted that. But we only had two weekends left. I closed my eyes tightly and pulled out of him, trying hard to hide my upset.
Brandon looked at me over his shoulder. "Come to my place. I don't have much furniture left, but I want you there."
"Are you sure? You don't have to if—"
"I can't miss a single second I could be spending with you. I'm moving over there to be with Wei. I'll be around her almost every day. But I won't get to see you for I don't even know how long."
I bent into his soft kiss. "If you're sure that's what you want."
I knew we wouldn't be having sex if his daughter was in the same house. Even if we could keep quiet, I didn't feel comfortable doing it if she might walk in on us. But just being with him was enough. I turned him around and pulled him into my arms. The water ran down his black hair and beautiful face, then into my mouth when I kissed him.
"Let's shower and eat. I'm so hungry." I couldn't explain the relief I felt upon knowing we still had two full weekends. Now that I'd acknowledged my feelings out loud, a door was open that I could no longer close. I thought it would freak me out, but it was too late to deny how I felt about him even if I wanted to.
Chapter 36
PATRICK
The following weekend, Wei stared at me from across the table, assessing me with her piercing dark eyes. "My dad said you look into people's heads to see what's in there."
I bit on my lips to hide a grin. "That’s one way of looking at it, I guess."
"So you open their skulls and check their brains?"
I couldn't repress a chuckle. "No. I make them talk and open up to relieve them from whatever might be ailing them and poisoning their existence."
She kept staring without blinking. "Are you going to do that to me?"
"Not unless you ask me to."
"No, thanks."
I gave a nod and turned to Brandon, who was behind the oven, a white apron around his waist. "Do you need help, mon chou?"
"No, I'm good."
Wei licked her lips in anticipation. "I love shepherd's pie."
"Me too."
"Why is it called hachis parmentier? It makes no sense."
"Because Monsieur Parmentier introduced the potato to the French population who was reluctant to eat it."
Her eyes widened. "Why wouldn't they want to eat it? Ever heard of fries? They're called French fries in English for a reason."
"Actually, they're not French. They're from Belgium."
Her eyes bulged even more as she shook her head and pursed her lips. "My whole life is a lie."
I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing. I thought she might get vexed by my reaction, but I wasn't making fun of her. To my surprise, she joined in and let out a loud hoot.
"Still, why wouldn't they eat potatoes?" she asked, still giggling to herself.
"They thought it might give them leprosy. Do you know what that is?"
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I learned about it in school when we studied medieval times. But it's a joke, right? Why would they think potatoes give leprosy?"
"I wish it were a joke. It was new to them, and it was food they fed to the animals, so they thought it was no good."
"Well, they changed their minds eventually... Obviously."
"Yes, Parmentier made them believe it was very trendy, something meant for the king only. That made it popular."
She narrowed her eyes. "People are weird."
I laughed again. Wei was something else all right. It'd only taken a few hours for her wit to seduce me. I loved talking with that kid; she was smart and wise.
I took a sip of my water and smiled at her.
"Are you going to marry my dad someday?" she asked out of the blue.
I nearly choked on my drink.
"Wei! We've talked about this," Brandon warned, his American accent more pronounced when he grew upset.
Ignoring her dad, she straightened her back and raised her chin at me. "I've been making a list of those who could be my potential Dad Number Two. So far, you're in the lead."
I raised an eyebrow. "A list? And who else is on that list?"
"Wei," Brandon scolded again.
I raised my hand when he brought the platter of shepherd's pie to the table. "No, let her talk. I want to know whom I'm competing against."
Wei grabbed a tablespoon and served herself a huge portion without waiting for her dad's approval.
"Well, first there's my Spanish teacher. He's very handsome and really funny."
"How do you know he likes men?" I asked.
She beheld me like I was an idiot. "Because he has a boyfriend, duh. Everyone knows that."
"Okay, well, he can't be on the list if he's already taken."
"Pffff, that's just a technicality. People break up."
I raised both my hands. "I'm just saying. That's one point for me. I'm single."
She stared at me, ready to take more potatoes. "You're not single. You're dating my dad."
"Exactly. Two points for me."
She huffed, and Brandon took the spoon from her hand before she could serve herself a third time. Her plate was already full, almost overflowing.
Wei shrugged and began eating.
"Who else?" I asked.
"Well, the neighbor," she replied, her mouth full.
"The neighbor?"
"Yes, and he's single. I don't know if he likes men, but who could resist my dad, really?" She pointed at Brandon with her fork to make a point.
I had to concur. "I can't argue with that."
A tiny smile rose on Brandon's face as he served me, then himself, and sat by my side.
"And there's the baker too," she added.
"The baker, huh? Maybe I should go buy some bread. Check out the competition."
"Well, he's married to a woman, but he makes a killer lemon pie. His éclairs are to die for. And with him, my dad will never go hungry. So good luck! He's serious competition."
"And straight," I reminded her.
<
br /> "Or bi," she shot back just as quickly.
I burst out laughing. "So I should take cooking classes. Okay, got it."
A little smirk rose on her face. "Well, considering we had to order pizza last night because you managed to burn the pasta, I'm not holding my breath. I mean, who burns pasta?"
I felt Brandon tense by my side, so I grabbed his hand to let him know it was okay.
"You're really outspoken. I like that."
"Well, that's good because I like you too. Like I said, you're my favorite potential Dad Number Two."
I laughed again. In my peripheral vision, I saw Brandon hold the bridge of his nose. I wondered if he was going to apologize profusely to me like he did last night. He'd said he would make up for his daughter's rude behavior by giving me head. I should have told him I actually found her pretty funny and entertaining, but who was I to deny a blow job offered with such enthusiasm?
"Will you read me a story before bed?" she asked.
I thought she was talking to Brandon, but her eyes were pinned on me.
"Reading stories is part of being a dad," she added. "You still have points to gain."
I couldn't stop laughing. "What story?"
She seemed to ponder that one for a bit too long. "Cinderella."
"You hate Cinderella," Brandon interjected, not as amused as I was.
"If it's a test, you're in for something else," I interrupted him before he got to scold her again. "Cinderella is kind-hearted. That's probably the best quality a person could have."
She gaped at me, her mouth wide open. "She spends her time cleaning the house and waiting for a man to save her. And her prince only likes her because she's pretty. How is that any good?"
"Point well put." I couldn't hide how I was blown away by her eloquence and strong arguments. That said a lot about Brandon as a parent that he'd taught her to think for herself. "Still, I don't mind reading it to you."
"Well, I've changed my mind," she replied, raising her chin.
"Too late. You chose Cinderella; that's what you're getting."
She pursed her lips. "Fine, but I'm taking a point off your dad record."
I winked at her and took a bite of the shepherd's pie. Lucky us, Brandon could actually cook because I wasn't the one who was going to save us from potential starvation.
