by Claire Adams
"How long does it keep?" he asked.
"Damien needs feeding every few hours; it wouldn't be around long enough to go bad." He made a noncommittal sound, walking past us.
"Guess I could always use it if it's been lying around too long."
"Use it for what? Ugh, no, don't tell me," I said, buttoning Damien back into his clothes. Jason laughed.
"That stuff's coming out of you all the time; you've never tried it?"
"No, I have not tried it," I said. He laughed at my reaction. I had warned him about playing with my nipples when we had sex, but it clearly didn't bother him. We always had a lot to talk about when it came to Damien, but then, we always seemed to have something to say when we weren't talking about him too. Even when we weren't talking at all, if I didn't have anything to say, I didn't feel pressured to fill the silence.
The food arrived, and Jason went to pay for it. I found us some plates in the kitchen, thank god he had more than two, and brought them out. He was at his bed; good call since the table, though tidy now, was still crowded with stuff. I went over and put Damien down, giving Jason a plate. He had gotten potstickers, lo mein, orange chicken, a little of everything. We were not going to get through it all, not tonight. Maybe for breakfast the next morning though.
Waking up with him sounded amazing. I already felt so comfortable here with him. We ate together, sitting on his bed. Tired of Damien making grabs for our food, I gave him a bit off a fortune cookie, which he sucked on till it turned to mush. Do we really have to go home tonight, I wondered. It wasn't so much the going home that mattered, it was the being with Jason, wherever we were.
"Jason," I said, as he shoveled more lo mein onto my plate, more than I'd be able to finish.
"Hm?"
"I love you too," I said. He smirked, putting down the takeout box.
"Yeah. I know." He laughed as I rolled my eyes.
"Just for that, I take it back."
"Nope. We have a witness,” he said, motioning at Damien. “You love me," he teased smugly. Guess that cocky bastard he used to be never really went away. I'd let him have that one. He wasn't wrong anyway. He had probably known that I loved him before I did; all I had done was admit it.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Jason
"Hey, what's going on?" I heard someone say. I looked from Damien on the swing. A man with a baby strapped to his chest in a carrier was standing next to the swing. Unless he was talking to Damien, he meant me.
"Hey," I said.
"Miles," he said, offering his hand for me to shake. "I've seen you and your boy here a few times." I nodded, figuring that he wasn't trying to sell me anything. The baby on his chest looked bigger than Damien, maybe closer to six months, I wasn't that good at guessing yet. Little boy with a pacifier in his mouth. His dad looked like, well, a dad. I was guessing my age, fit but with less time to devote to lifting six days a week.
"Yeah. He likes the swings. His mom and I try to bring him once a week."
"Same here; the kids get to come a little more often but not with us," he said, looking over his shoulder. I looked over where he had, seeing another man holding a ball, crouched down talking to three kids. Two boys and a girl. "Our nanny's usually with them during the week."
"How many are yours?" I asked.
"Two of them. Sam and Jodi are four. Wilson's five months," he said. Twins, and then the little one who was strapped to his chest.
"Wow," I said. "Sounds like a handful. I'm Jason, by the way."
"I recognized you," he said, smiling. "I didn't know you had kids."
"Just the one. Damien," I said, lifting Damien out of the swing. This was different. The guy seemed friendly, so we kept talking, not about me, about our kids. He mentioned a parenting group that connected parents in the neighborhood. That had been how he and his husband had found the woman who nannied their kids and how he'd managed to set up playdates with parents whose kids were similar ages to his. His two older kids were on a playdate right then with another kid. People who had approached me in the past had never done it to talk about setting up a playdate for our sons who were similar ages. First of all, I had spent far more time in the past at parties, rather than parks and there, I had attracted mostly women who wanted to fuck, sometimes an occasional man, but usually they had wanted to do drugs. By the time I was walking over to Shelby at the usual picnic table, I had the guy's phone number and email address.
"Make a new friend?" she asked as I placed Damien in his carrier seat. She had packed a lunch for the two of us; the spread was out on the table. Chicken pesto sandwiches and a pasta salad. Living alone sucked that much more knowing how great a cook she was.
"You saw? That guy, Miles, he was just telling me about his kids and this parent group that a bunch of other families in the neighborhood use."
"That sounds nice," she said.
"Did you know people did that?" I asked.
"Uh-huh. That was how I found Paula, Damien's old sitter. She worked for a woman who used to bring her daughters here before she moved and Paula couldn't work for her anymore."
"Shit. Is that how parents make friends? Through their kids?" I asked. She laughed.
"The guy you were talking to, did he try to set up a playdate between Damien and his little boy?"
"Yeah. I said I'd run it by you and let him know."
"Hm," she said smirking, "and his kid's how old?"
"Damien's age, a little older."
"So neither of them are walking or talking. What do you think they'd do on a playdate?" she asked. I frowned.
"Don't people do that?"
"Yeah, for older kids to make friends and socialize. With babies, a playdate is usually just an excuse to make friends with other people who have kids."
"Seriously?" I thought about it. People used their kids as icebreakers to make new drinking buddies.
"Mm-hmm. Think about it. Having kids, you're constantly surrounded by other people’s kids, playgrounds, daycare, schools. None of your childless friends know what it’s like. It's nice having friends who get it. Bonus when they can take your kid for date night, and you don't have to call a sitter." Whoa. I had had no idea. Suddenly, I felt stupid. Your social life didn't end when you had kids, of course, it fucking didn't.
"That's... honestly, pretty cool."
"Right? So? What did you think about Miles? Guy you'd want to leave Damien with when we go out?" she asked. My phone rang before I could answer her. I pulled it out of my pocket, checking to see who it was. I didn't recognize the number. I told her I'd be right back and got up, answering it.
"Hello?"
"Hello. Am I speaking to Jason Bowman?"
"Can I ask who's calling?"
"My name is Greg Waters. I'm calling from KCRQ. We were interested in offering you a position at our station."
"KCRQ?" I asked. Hadn't heard of it before.
"We broadcast regionally in the majority Los Angeles area. Following your departure from WRTC, you've most likely gotten more offers like this than you can keep up with." Actually, I hadn't. The initial shock of the photo scandal had died down, but since I hadn't exactly been making the effort to continue being part of that whole world, I was going to say a lot of people were still keeping their distance. As soon as I was attached to anything new in any case, the pictures would be dug up again.
"I've retired largely from broadcast," I said, not getting into any more detail that wasn't the guy's business. I have a job now that lets me focus on my family, and I'm more interested in that than being on anyone's TV.
"I see," the man said. "KQRC lacks the scope of the last station you served, but your considerable experience and profile would be taken into consideration when we discuss compensation."
"That's a kind offer. Thank you, but I have to decline. I have another engagement already and doubt I'll be making a return to broadcast in the near or distant future." The guy was silent before he thanked me for my time anyway. I hung up, heading back to the picnic table. A
nother anchor job. If he had come to me a few weeks back, in desperation, I might have said yes. If I had though, I probably wouldn't have been here today at the park with Shel and Damien. The job in broadcast and all those perks it had come with had been what had fucked me up in the first place. I couldn't say that the industry at large was at fault, no, I was responsible for what I had turned into. Going back would have meant the long hours, constant exposure and not enough time for Shelby and Damien in the long run. I wasn't going back to that. When I had had nothing but myself to live for, maybe, but now, some things were more important.
"Who was that?" Shelby asked as I came back to the bench and sat. I hadn't been far enough away that she wouldn't have heard me, I hadn't been trying to hide from her. I told her.
"It was a station here in L.A., smaller, regional; they wanted to offer me a job."
"Oh yeah?"
"Anchor position."
"And you told them no."
"I already have a job."
"Not as an anchor," she pointed out. "Isn't that what you wanted? To get back into broadcast eventually?"
"Even if I had wanted it, it wasn't the place for me. I think I understand that now."
"Would you have left if I hadn't asked you to?"
"Eventually, wanting to be close to you and Damien, I know I would have left. That's the whole point. That old job had made me feel important, but it didn't give me anything. I had been fine there, content, I guess, but it hadn’t been good for me. Here, I have you guys and a job that challenges me and doesn't let me get away with just being Jason Bowman."
"You think so?"
"Yeah," I said, thinking about it. "When it all came down to choosing, I left that job without a second thought. I didn't need it. I thought it was who I was, but I was wrong. Moving on might have been the best thing I could have done."
"I'm glad you feel that way," she said. "I'm really proud of how far you've come. I never could have imagined you making playdates in the park on a Sunday afternoon."
"I'd rather be here than at a news desk," I said, shrugging. "I don't need to be that guy to have what I want."
"Do you have what you want?" she asked. I nodded.
"This is what I want," I told her. She stood and came around the table and sat next to me. I turned so I was facing her. She kissed me.
"I know it couldn't have been easy giving everything up. Thank you for choosing us."
"Choosing you?" I asked. She shrugged.
"We don't come with a million-dollar penthouse, fame, nothing. Just poopy diapers and nursing bras." She smiled wryly, looking down.
"It wasn't just you; I chose myself too. All that stuff didn't make me happy; it just made me feel like I didn't have to look for anything else. Anything deeper. I don't even recognize who I was back then. My head was so far up my own ass; I didn't realize the kind of person I had become. The kind that you had to move across the country to get away from."
"I didn't move here just to get away from you, Jason."
"But you did hide Damien from me," I pointed out. "Shel, when you told me that you didn't think I would have cared about the birth of my own son, it just... you gave me the kick in the ass I needed to get over myself, you and Lake did. I had been told too long that I was the most important person in the world and that just wasn't true. I didn't like who I'd become, especially since it meant I couldn't be part of your and Damien's world." I reached for one of her hands, holding it. "Seriously, how did you put up with me?"
"By moving across the country," she said with a small smile. "But then you followed me." I cupped her face and kissed her.
"I don't know what would have happened if you had given up on me."
"I tried. You were pretty persistent," she laughed.
"I mean it, Shel," I kissed her again, "thank you."
"Thank you for not making me regret letting you back in." We ate our lunch, and after nursing Damien, we headed back to Shelby's apartment. I had slept over the night before, and we had taken my car instead of hers. It was later in the afternoon when we got there. I took Damien out of his car seat, and she took the picnic basket. I walked into the house after her, heading to Damien's nursery while she went to the kitchen. I turned his sound machine on before I put him on the table and changed his diaper. He generally took two naps, one in the late morning and another mid-to-late afternoon. The night before, he had slept the whole night without getting up once. His schedule wasn't airtight, but it was important for him to have some sort of routine, us too.
Shelby walked in as I placed him in his crib. In five minutes, he had fallen asleep.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Shelby
"Thank you for coming to the park with us," I said.
"I wouldn't have missed it," he replied, taking one of my hands. We were back in the living room. I had flopped down onto a couch, and he had sat down next to me. I wouldn't have said that I was tired too, but if I had the chance just then to take a nap, I probably would have. Jason had been with us since the night before, our first sleepover at my place. In the morning, since he had heard Damien first, by the time I was getting out of bed, he was already in his nursery, getting him dressed.
That morning, I had done something that I barely did anymore: actually prepared breakfast. It had started as a side effect of living alone years ago, but after having Damien, rushing every morning to get to work with him, I had started skipping breakfast or settling for an apple, or cracker while walking out the door as breakfast. It was a bad habit, something I wouldn't want Damien to develop, but with Jason in the house, I had been in the kitchen making pancakes, angry that I only had frozen berries and not fresh in case he preferred them that way.
The problem would have corrected itself once Damien got older and started eating real food. I would have prepared breakfast each day and eaten with him, no problem. Having Jason in the house brought back memories of living with people. I had Damien, of course, but, other adults: people who would share bills and generally have different expectations of me than Damien did. I had only ever lived with two of my past boyfriends and now alone, I had forgotten the routine and grounding that having other people around gave. Things as simple as preparing real meals to share.
I had never thought that I had been lonely. I hadn't been. I squeezed Jason's hand and looked at him. He was looking at me. Maybe I hadn't been lonely because I had wanted something specific that I hadn't even believed was in reach for me.
"You okay?" he asked. I nodded, sitting up and throwing one of my legs over his lap, straddling him. He pulled me in and kissed me. This was nice. I liked having him here. He helped with Damien, but even if he didn't, I liked being close to him. I wanted to be close to him. He wrapped an arm around me, lowering me to the couch. He kissed my neck, making me shudder with pleasure.
"Not here," I said softly. He kissed lower, pulling my t-shirt up. I giggled as his breath tickled the sensitive skin on my stomach. "Jason," I said, stopping him. He looked at me, eyes clouded with lust. We got off the couch; we didn't need to do it there. My bed was more comfortable anyway. I pulled him along behind me to the bedroom.
It was late afternoon. The sun's light was still filtering through the windows. Naked on my white linen, Jason looked almost angelic. His chest heaved, and his grip on my hair tightened as I sucked his cock. I palmed his balls, running my tongue up his length before feeding the engorged head into my mouth. He swore as I sucked him, leaning up on his elbows so he could watch me. We didn't really make sense, he and I. Our history spanned over a year and across the country, but truly, we were still getting to know each other. There was something new every day, whether it was foods he liked eating or what he wanted in bed.
I knew he liked this though; most men did. I carefully fed him into my throat, swallowing as I did. He groaned, and his hand went in my hair. He tugged gently, squirming a little, finding it hard to stay still.
"Stop," he said, "I'm gonna come." I released him, slowly, letting my tongue linger o
n the tip, leaking precum. Moving up his body, I straddled him again. I ran my hand up and down his length before positioning myself over him. He sat up and held my hips, controlling how fast he entered me. He took one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking as we rocked slowly together. It was perfect, slow and sensual. He was relentless with his mouth, his lips and teeth over my breasts and neck, but he let me ride him steady and hard until I shook and came, clamping down around him.
He flipped us over and drove into me, fast, hard thrusts to push him over the edge. He took a minute to catch his breath before he slid out of me and came to rest next to me on the bed. He pulled me into him, molding our bodies together, kissing my hair. I wriggled for him to release me. I slid out of the bed and walked quickly to the bathroom. I splashed my face with water and cleaned up. It would be nighttime eventually. I knew that Jason would stay long enough to put Damien to bed, but then he would go back to his place. We both had work the next day. I'd see him. I knew that I would; I had been seeing him every day since we had decided to split time with Damien, so why was I upset that he was going to leave?
I liked having him around, and I was going to go ahead and guess that he liked being around. How convenient would it be if he didn't have to leave whenever he came over, if I didn't have to stop at his apartment every day before coming home? He had planted the seed when he had first said that he wanted to move in. When he had, my reaction hadn't been to what he had asked, but what he had assumed without asking me first. My boyfriend and I had never lived together, but we had a four-month-old baby. I had been thinking about it lately, and now, I was done.
I walked out of the bathroom to the bed, pulling my panties and t-shirt back on.
"Going somewhere?" Jason asked. I looked over at him, naked on my bed. He looked comfortable, I thought, lying there like he owned the place. I would have been mad at anyone else who did, but he was right where I wanted him. I shook my head, climbing back onto the bed. I reached over his body to get to the nightstand, opening the drawer and pulling something out.
