Sarah is it for me. Only once I’ve kissed all of that to her do I open her door. She reaches for my hand as soon as I’m in on my side. I lift her hand to my lips and grin at her. Whatever life throws at us, we’ll figure out together.
When we get back to the house, I ask if she wants me to stay.
“No,” she replies. “I know you’re worried about missing lunch with Logan.”
“Are you sure? You are more important to me.”
She smiles. “Yes, I’m just going to go lie down. We can hang out more when you get home from work.”
I lean over to kiss her. She’s right; I do worry about Logan. I had a meeting with his guidance counselor and our assistant principal to clue them in on his lunch schedule. The family situation is not unknown with the school. Luckily, last I heard his dad should be on the way home soon. Thankfully, Mrs. Cobb, the guidance counselor for our school, wasn’t adverse to him eating with me.
Logan is a good kid, and I have no idea if he’s getting enough food at home or not. If he’s on to me purposefully bringing too much food everyday so he has something to eat, he hasn’t said anything. At this point, as far as he knows, he’s doing me a favor. Since the temperature has been dropping, I also managed to get him to accept a couple of old hoodies of mine.
The kid is growing like a weed and outgrew his coat from last year. I know there are kids in worse-off situations, but I’ve made Logan my personal project. I was his age when I was a hungry kid, too. I was lucky to have the Millers to take care of me. Who knows what kind of trouble I’d get up to if I hadn’t been assigned that project with Sarah.
Our ice cream pit stop has me running late. By the time I make it to my classroom, I see Logan walking away.
“Hey, Logan. I’m here. Sorry I’m late.”
The relief that crosses his face kills me. I can’t let this kid down.
“Hey, Mr. Price.”
He stands next to me, waiting as I unlock my door and flip on the lights.
“So, how’s your day going, Logan?”
He shrugs, and instead of heading to the back of the class like he did in the beginning, he now sits at the table closest to my desk. He’s still on the quiet side but is opening up more and more every day.
“My grandpa had a rough night last night.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, buddy.”
He nods. It’s terrible that someone his age has to shoulder this much.
“I can’t wait for my dad to come home. I haven’t seen him in eight months.”
“What’s the last thing you heard on that?”
I pass him a chicken salad sandwich. I’ve started bringing a cooler to work.
He takes a bite, practically inhaling it before he answers, talking around the bits of food left in his mouth. “He has to get out-processed from that base first. It’s taking forever but should be done this week.”
“That’s great news, bud.”
“So, why were you late today?”
“My wife had to go to the doctor and I went with her.”
He keeps eating, but his eyes widen. “Is she okay?”
I nod, not knowing if I’m lying.
“That’s good.”
I grin at him and get to work.
Sarah
Why is the light on my phone blinking? I unlock my screen and see that I’ve missed a call from Dr. Stacey’s office. A call I’ve literally been waiting for all week. I’ve had my phone next to me all day long except for getting up just now to go get the mail. Is there some sort of radar that ensures you will miss whatever call you’re waiting for?
My leg shakes as I listen to the voicemail. Crap. They don’t tell me anything, just ask me to call them back. Is that bad? I stand once the phone starts ringing and start to pace back and forth across my office. Five steps and I’m across the room. I groan and move out into the hall so I have more space to cover as I pace.
I have to stop myself from throwing my phone when the receptionist tells me Dr. Stacey is currently with a patient and will have to call me back. But he just called me! I want to argue. I’m too polite, though, so I save my frustrated venting for after I’ve hung up with them.
I head back to my office and make an unsuccessful attempt at sorting the mail I dropped on my desk when I’d noticed my phone was blinking. My head isn’t in it; is this a bill, or junk mail? Who cares? Instead, I stare at my phone, willing it to ring. I also kinda-sorta have to pee but can’t make up my mind whether to go for it or hold it. I double-check to make sure the ringer is on at least three times before he calls back.
I’m on my way, phone in hand, to the half-bath when Dr. Stacey calls.
“Hello,” I answer.
“Mrs. Price?”
“Yes, this is she,” I whisper.
“This is Dr. Stacey. I wanted to call and let you know your blood work came back and was normal.”
“Oh, thank God,” I breathe.
“Has Mr. Price made his appointment with a urologist?”
I sag against the wall, relief hitting me. “Yes, he’s going tomorrow morning.”
“Good. Well, we’ll see you both back here in a week.”
“Thank you.”
As soon as I hang up, I call Will. I don’t even know if he has a class right now, but I have to tell him. He answers right away.
“Sarah.”
“My blood work is normal!” I shout.
“Oh, thank God.”
I start to laugh. “That’s what I said.”
“I love you, babe.”
I hold my phone with both hands, wishing I could hold him instead.
I’m suddenly choked up when I reply, “I love you, too.”
“Babe,” he says quietly.
I was so scared. I don’t know why I’m about to cry. It must be a happy cry or my body relaxing after being so stressed this past week. Even though I feel silly for being emotional, I don’t care.
“I’m taking you out tonight.”
I laugh. “It’s a date.”
After we hang up, I can’t hold it anymore and run to pee. Luckily, I have the house all to myself; otherwise, someone might wonder why I’m giggling on the toilet. I’m not even sure why I’m laughing. Maybe it’s because I was so afraid, and now it seems silly to have worked myself up that way.
Even though my doctor had seemed certain whatever growth was hanging out inside me wasn’t cancerous, I had been scared. So scared that neither Will nor I had told anyone about it, not even Sawyer.
It’s impossible to keep anything from her, so I’ve been ignoring her calls and texts. I owe her a call big-time.
I only hope she isn’t pissed at me for keeping this from her.
Phone still in my hand, I go right to her contact listing and call her.
“Oh, so you are alive,” she answers.
“Hi, babe.”
“You know, seeing as how my last text to you, um, two friggin’ days ago was ‘are you alive,’ it’s nice to finally know for sure. Let me guess: you and Will have gotten into bondage and you were handcuffed to your bed.”
“There is a growth in my uterus, and we were waiting to find out if it was cancerous or not.”
“Oh, shit. Is it . . . ?” She trails off.
“It’s not. I just found out. That’s why I haven’t called. I’m so sor—”
“Don’t even apologize,” she cuts me off. “I completely understand. Is that what they found in your appointment? Do you need to have a surgery?”
“Will is going for his sperm count tomorrow. My doctor wants to confirm that before doing anything else. If Will’s sperm count comes back normal then I guess we’ll . . . honestly, I have no idea. All I know is I was so scared this past week. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want to worry you if it wasn’t anything serious.”
“Oh, honey. That’s what friends are for. I’m here for you to worry me about whatever you want, whenever you want. I can handle it. I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to protect me.�
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The tears that formed as she spoke spill over as I try to talk. “I miss you.”
“Do you want me to come down? Say the word, babe, and I’m there.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that. Snow season is about to start.”
Her husband, Jared, is a ski instructor and manages the rental shop at a resort near their house. He works year-round since the resort also has off-season activities, but winter is their true peak season.
“Who said Jared would come with?”
“Come on. Like he’d be cool with you bringing Pascal down here and leaving him.” Jared loved his girls.
“You’re probably right but for you, he’d deal with it.”
“I love you. I’ll be okay. Not going more than a week without talking to you will help.”
“I get the radio silence, I do, but holy shit, I was getting so pissed at you.”
“Still pissed?” I tease.
“Ugh, no, but if you ever shut me out again, we’re going to have a problem, ma’am.”
“Deal. Okay, I’m emotionally exhausted from all of this and Will is taking me out tonight. I’m going to take a nap so I won’t pass out mid-meal.”
“All right. Call me once you hear back on Will’s appointment.”
“It’s not a real appointment. He went a couple days ago to pick up this cup. He has to jerk off at home and then run the sample over tomorrow. They’ll call us and schedule another appointment if there are issues. If not, they’ll tell him he can pick up the results and we’ll bring those to my doctor.”
Sawyer starts laughing. “So, you’re going to help him prepare his sample.”
“This isn’t funny.” I try to sound serious.
“Whatever, dude. Whacking off is hysterical.”
I ignore the pile of mail downstairs and head up to our bedroom. “You’re a mess.”
“And you love me for it.”
“I do.”
“I’ll talk to you later.”
After we hang up, I feel lighter than I have in days. Sure I have a random polyp inside me, but at least it’s not cancerous. It’s strange, but because of the name, I’ve been imagining it looks like pulp from orange juice.
That’s the last thing I think about as I stretch out on our bed for a nap.
I wake to lips on my neck and arms wrapped around me.
“Hmm.” My eyes blink open and I see Will’s smiling face.
“Hey, beautiful,” he murmurs, pushing my hair from my face.
“Hi.” I smile back and melt into him.
“How are you feeling? Do you still want to go out?”
I squint past him to look at the alarm clock. “Am I awful for not wanting to get out of bed?”
He laughs, dipping his head to kiss me. “I’m all for you never leaving this bed.”
“That isn’t what I meant,” I huff.
“It should have been,” he teases, his lips trailing across my jaw and down my neck.
My shirt is button-up, and his hands release me to start unbuttoning. “Can we, with your appointment tomorrow?”
He pauses, resting his forehead to mine. “Shit. I forgot.”
I cringe. “I guess that means no.”
He looks up, his blue eyes mischievous. “That doesn’t mean we can’t do other stuff.”
Before I can reply, he ducks under the covers and starts pulling my yoga pants and underwear off.
“Will, you don’t—” I stop speaking the moment his mouth hits me.
All coherent use of the English language is lost to me from that point on. I’ve always teased Will that he’s good at everything he does, and this is no exception. I’m not stupid, though; I don’t tease him for this. There is nothing sexier than how into pleasuring me he gets.
My body is fine-tuned to him. He knows exactly how I like it, but it’s more than that. It’s knowing that if he’s doing it, I will like it. I trust him so much so that I’ve no reason to ever be embarrassed.
It’s freeing and exhilarating and—“Oh, God, oh, God! Don’t you dare stop, right, right there . . .”
He crawls up me, kissing me hungrily before pulling away. “I need a cold shower, stat.”
I want to offer words of support but haven’t mentally regained use of my tongue yet to form said words. I just lie there, blissfully limbless as I hear the shower turn on.
He’s back in almost no time, now clad only in a towel. He shakes his head at me as soon as he sees I haven’t moved, haven’t even made an effort to put my clothes back on.
“You are welcome.” He laughs, bending over to kiss my cheek.
I scrunch my nose at him and refuse to move otherwise.
“Want me to order pizza?”
“Mmmm.”
“I’m taking that as a yes.” He laughs again, pulling on a pair of track pants and an old t-shirt from our high school days.
Deciding it would be best not to eat pizza in bed, I pull my clothes back on and follow him downstairs.
He’s turning off his phone by the time I make it to him. “Want to order a movie or watch something from the DVR?”
I’m two weeks behind on one of my favorite shows, but it’s one Will thinks is silly. It would be horribly unfair to ask to watch it, considering he just went down on me and had to take a cold shower.
He knows me well enough to read my expression and rolls his eyes as he selects it from the DVR queue.
“Are you sure?” I grin at him.
He tugs me toward him and kisses me. “You owe me.”
I like the sound of that. Owing Will Price always seems to be quite rewarding in the end.
“Deal.” I kiss his neck, right under his chin.
His arms tighten before he releases me, stepping back. “The pizza should be here in thirty minutes. What do you want to drink?”
“Who’d you order from?”
We have different standing orders depending on which pizza place we order from. “Vinnie’s.”
Marguerita pizza, yum. “If we have any sangria left, I’ll have that. Otherwise, iced tea sounds good.”
I plop down onto our comfy sofa, put my feet up onto our ottoman-style coffee table and start my show. Will won’t care if he misses the beginning. He’s back in no time with a tumbler of sangria for me and a can of Coke for himself. I lean forward, making room for him to sit and then rest against him. I love staying in, just the two of us. When Sawyer and I still lived in Colorado, we went out way more than Will and I do now.
Sure, I miss living near my best friend but I wouldn’t trade this, what I have right now, for anything. I’ve seen movies and read books where women are swept off their feet by some billionaire or celebrity, and into private planes or helicopters off to movie premiers or galas. I’m the one living the real fantasy, tucked up to my high school sweetheart, watching our DVR while we wait for a pizza to be delivered. This is it for me, my dream, all I’ve ever wanted. Well, almost all I’ve ever wanted. Hopefully soon we’ll learn why we haven’t been able to start a family.
Who knows? Maybe a year from now we’ll be in exactly the same place, only with a baby of our own.
When the doorbell rings, I pause the TV and we both get up to go to the door. Will passes me the food while he pays the driver, and I take it to the kitchen to serve it up. He meets me in time to carry his plate back to the living room. We have it down to a science, the way we move in harmony.
Will even behaves as I catch up on my show. He only snickers a couple of times during the more melodramatic parts. It’s a TV show about vampires, so the fact that he’s watching it with me at all gives him a free pass to think it’s silly. I don’t care, though; Sawyer and I got hooked on this show when we lived together, and watching it reminds me of her.
She still watches it, too, and part of the text messages I missed from her were asking if I had caught up so we could discuss. Perfectly normal adult behavior. When I finish my pizza, I snuggle back into Will, since he eats faster than I do and finishes ages before me.
Once I’m settled, he pulls a throw blanket off the back of the couch and covers both of us.
I don’t notice until fast-forwarding through the next commercial break that he’s fallen asleep. I pause the show to take a moment and watch his resting face. He’s still so handsome, boyishly so while somehow also being all man. There are times, like this, when I have to remind myself that this is real. That he, we, together are real.
His chocolate brown hair is longer than usual. I can’t help but wonder if all the worry about me or Logan has made him forget his regular haircut. I don’t mind the extra length, though. It reminds me of the skater boy who tried to teach me how to ride by pushing me on his board around the neighborhood.
I still wear all of the rings he’s given me: the plastic thumb ring, my engagement ring, and my wedding band. Doesn’t seem fair, my three to his one. He is so giving, and he’s all mine. I can’t help it; softly, as not to wake him, I stroke his hair back from his face. He shifts, and I’m scared I’ve woken him but then he stills again, his lips parting. His lips, I could stare at them all day. Something as simple as tugging his lower lip between his teeth can absolutely mesmerize me.
They are perfection, how soft they are while also being firm. The moment his lips touch my skin, I am his to command. I’ve always been his, from the first day he kissed me and claimed me. Feather-light, I lower my lips to his and softly brush them against his.
Only then do I return to my show. These vampires may live and love forever, but I’m sure their love will never touch ours.
Will
Collecting my sample was a breeze this morning; I had one sexy-as-hell assistant. Handing it over to the nurse at the urologist, though, was something I never pictured myself doing. Here, have a cup full of my sperm, stranger.
There’s a part of me that hopes I’m the problem. Sarah is stressed out enough already. If the reason we’re not getting pregnant is me, she’ll stop beating herself up about it. Sure, I want a family. I love kids, I always have and we’re in a great place stability-wise to start a family.
Them (Him #3) Page 4
