“You smell fine, but you’re welcome to take a shower if you can squeeze into my tiny bathroom. I don’t think my clothes would fit you, but you’d at least wash the sweat off.”
I looked around his place. It was small, like a biggish studio. Right by the door was a little kitchen area with a tall table and two chairs. He had a small love seat against one wall, next to a bookshelf packed with books. His bed was tucked behind a sliding door. It was open right now so I could see into his private space.
His entire place was an explosion of colors.
There were prints on the walls, the couch was a bright green with red and blue cushions on it. His bed had all kinds of patterns and colors. This was exactly what I’d expected Camilo’s apartment to be like—vibrant, just like him.
I turned around and saw he was leaning against the counter quietly, letting me explore.
“I told you it was small.”
I walked up to him and put my hands around his waist. “You have no idea how happy I am to be here right now. I thought our evening was doomed.” I kissed his cheek and he tightened his arms around me. “Thanks for letting me come over.”
He shrugged, but his eyes shone. “Thanks for calling.”
“I’ll always call, Camilo.” He nodded, and even though he didn’t respond, it felt comfortable, like we were back in sync. After another minute, I decided to go for that shower after all.
“If you were serious I’ll take a shower while you warm up the food. I’ll be quick.” He nodded and pointed to a door next to the bathroom.
“There are towels on the shelf in there.”
I grabbed one and stepped into his bathroom. Thinking once again that I couldn’t remember the last time I’d wanted anyone this much.
Camilo
Tom was everywhere.
His body, his smell, all of him had taken over my apartment. I was feeling so many things just from having him in my space. I couldn’t believe how at ease he was. I’d been nervous he’d walk in and look down on my tiny apartment. But of course he hadn’t.
I took him in as he walked out of the bathroom in nothing but his jeans. His biceps bulged as he dried his hair off with my towel, and I had to dig my nails into my hands to keep from jumping him.
He must have noticed that my breathing got a little faster looking at all those muscles and tanned skin, because the fucker winked at me.
Smug bastard.
The effect his naked chest and sexy wet hair were having on me was significant. I waved my hand at my little table to indicate we could eat, to see if I could maybe distract myself with food.
He groaned when he saw everything laid out and walked over. “I’m starving. Thanks for letting me shower, I needed that,” he said as he yanked his t-shirt back on, mercifully shielding me from his lust inducing torso.
“No problem, do you want a beer?”
“Sure,” he answered while pulling out a chair.
I grabbed a couple of bottles from the fridge and sat across from him. When I put the bottles on the table he beamed at me after looking at the brand.
“You drink Presidente?” he asked delighted. The imported Dominican beer was pretty easy to find in Harlem these days, but I’d only bought it because when I’d seen it at the bodega it had reminded me of Tom. I was corny as hell these days.
I lifted a shoulder trying to act like it was no big deal, but Tom’s presence was like truth serum. “When I saw them I thought of you, and I got them because I’m now a walking cliché.” He laughed at my words, like I was being adorable, and leaned in to kiss me.
When he pulled back he had the confident grin he sported every once in a while, like he knew I was a goner for him. “You were thinking about me.”
“I can’t stop thinking about you, that’s my problem, Tom,” I said, unable to mask my exasperation.
I pointed at the food. “It’s going to get cold,” I said ready to be done with this sudden exploration of my thirstiness.
I’d arranged the stuff he’d brought on a big platter. With the injera, the sour crepe-looking bread used to scoop up the sauces and stews in Ethiopian meals, on a plate to the side so we could both eat off the platter.
Before digging in he grinned at me again, like he knew what I was doing, but was letting me get away with it. “This looks great.”
I lifted a shoulder. “Hey, you brought the food, I just arranged it.”
The corner of his eyes crinkled. He seemed to find my grumpiness endlessly delightful.
“It’s great to be here with you, Camilo.”
I felt faint sometimes from the things he said to me. In my past relationships most of the feedback I got was that I needed to tone it down. I was too salty, too intense...too much. With Tom, me being me was not only okay, it was like he couldn’t get enough of it.
“Stop, you already got in my pants once today. Let’s eat already.”
Those grins of his were addictive.
We tore off pieces of injera at the same time and started digging into the food. It was delicious and I was hungry, so we ate in silence for a bit. Bumping hands and smiling every once in a while as we both reached for the same things. After a few moments we slowed down and Tom took a sip from his beer. I noticed the hand he was holding the bottle with was pristine, while both of mine were a mess.
“How come you can do this with one hand?”
He laughed as I sat there baffled.
“Practice,” he said waving said clean hand around. “Henock taught me how to eat like a proper Ethiopian.” He smiled and put down his beer. “Here, I’ll show you something.”
He tore off some injera and picked up some bits of meat and greens from the platter, then extended his hand, offering it to me. I reached for it and he pulled it back, a very predatory smile on his lips.
“You have to eat it from my hand.”
The way he looked at me made the whole thing feel incredibly intimate. I opened my mouth and took the bite of food from him and chewed slowly as he watched me eat.
His voice was low when he spoke. “That’s a gursha. In Ethiopia, when you’re eating a meal with friends or family it’s customary for people around the table to offer each other bites of food, as a sign of love or friendship.” He cleared his throat then, looking a little self-conscious.
“That’s lovely. Thank you.”
He nodded again. “It is.”
“I like hearing you talk about your friends. It makes me think of mine. I—”
I shut my mouth then because I was about to go overboard. Feeling self-conscious, I went back to eating.
Tom put his hand under my chin.
“What were you going to say?” I shook my head trying to avoid the subject, but I looked up at him and his eyes were so focused on me, I just said it.
“I was going to say, I can’t wait for you to meet my friends. But then thought better of it, because we’ve been on like a quarter of an actual date, so it seemed just a tad desperate—” I help up my hand, the tips of my index finger and thumb pressed together “—to talk about meeting each other’s people.”
He smiled in that way that made me feel like there were a million butterflies fluttering inside me, and shook his head leaning in. “If you only knew how ready I am to take this—” he waved the hand holding the beer between us “—a lot further than just a casual thing.”
I looked down, not knowing what to say, but he kept going.
“I’m ready to meet your friends and have you meet mine, Camilo. I’m ready for whatever you’re ready for.” Then he took my hand and kissed my palm, because my life was a Jane Austen novel now.
“Okay then. Duly noted,” I said with a sharp nod.
We kept eating for a little bit and after we were done he helped me clean up. Once we finished in the kitchen I turned off the lights, and pulled him into the bed with me
. I helped him out of his jeans and we got under the covers. We fit together in my queen-size bed, but just barely. It all felt so normal though, like we’d done this a million times before.
It was tempting to just go with the feeling, and avoid discussing the reason why we were in my apartment instead of his house. But I needed to know about the situation with his daughter and his ex before I agreed to take things any further. This whole thing with Tom was already a big fucking risk to take, and I needed to know just how badly I could get burned.
“So this is amazing, and I basically want to order a body pillow shaped exactly like you, because you feel incredible,” I said, resting my head on his chest to take the edge off the conversation a bit. “But we need to talk about your daughter, and your ex. I need information, Tom.”
He sighed and held me tighter before answering, “Well there’s not too much to tell. I was with Maxwell for about five years. We got married right as things with my company were getting really hot, so I worked all the time. Like all the time.” He bit his lips then, in a way that I’d noticed happened when he was talking about something sad or upsetting.
“Maxwell got lonely and I wanted a baby, so we started the surrogacy process right after we got married. I would have preferred an adoption, but Maxwell really wanted a biological child. His cousin offered to be our egg donor, so we decided to do it. It took so long to get everything in order that by the time the surrogate was pregnant, our marriage was completely in shambles. I take a lot of blame for it, because I didn’t pay attention.”
I had to bite my tongue then, the impulse to take his side, to tell him I couldn’t imagine him ever letting anyone down had me practically vibrating. In the short time I’d known Tom I already saw how much he took on, how driven he was to fix things. I ran my hand over his chest and waited for him to keep talking, because no matter how much I wanted to soothe, I needed to know more.
“I have Libe most of the time and Maxwell gets her on Wednesday nights and every other weekend.”
“Ah.” So it really was his night off.
He exhaled and shook his head. “We split holidays too, we switch between Thanksgiving and Christmas. The arrangement mostly works for us. Since I sold Nuntius I’ve been on a semi-hiatus from work. I wanted to be home more, at least until Libe was a bit older. I didn’t want to fail her.”
He stopped talking and pulled me up to press his face to my neck. I let him. The pain and remorse I felt coming off him made me feel protective. “Tom, it can’t all be on you.” He shook his head and his hand moved up to pull me in for a kiss. He tasted me, as if he needed comfort before he went on.
When he pulled back he continued in a sober, regretful tone. “I was so focused on Nuntius and how fast it was growing, I didn’t take care of our relationship. In hindsight we shouldn’t have gotten married. Too many things weren’t right. But I also got Libertad out of it and I could never ever regret having her.”
His voice was so full of love when he talked about his daughter. “I love her name. Gutsy to name a little kid Freedom in Spanish.”
He nodded and when I looked up to see his face, it was serious and sad.
“It was my grandmother’s name. My mom’s mom. She died just a few months before Libe was born. It’s one of the greatest pains of my life she never got to meet her.” He smiled then, but it was so broken. “My grandmother helped raise me. When she died I hadn’t seen her in almost a year. I’d been too busy to go home for a visit. That I will always regret.”
He was quiet for a moment, but when he spoke again he sounded better. “It’s kind of a thing in my mom’s family. Names with meaning. My mother’s name is Esperanza. My mom hope, Libe and abuela freedom and my aunt Patria homeland.” His voice was sad, but full of pride.
“And they named you Tom?!” I blurted out without thinking. He barked out a laugh and kissed my forehead. The smile that I realized only appeared when I did something over the top—which he thought was adorable—was out in full force.
“Tom was my dad’s best friend and my full name is Thomas Caonabo Hughes Gomez. My mother named me after a Carib chief because she’s badass like that.”
I had to give him a kiss for that.
Tom was a constant source of wonder. Every time I thought I had him figured out, he did or said something to make me think I wasn’t even close. “That’s a lot better than regular Tom.”
He chuckled quietly and then said, “Would you be open to getting to know Libertad?”
I stiffened at his request. Not because I didn’t want to, I was just surprised by the question.
Probably sensing my discomfort, he quickly added, “Not right now, just sometime in the future. I’d really like to keep seeing you and if things go well, it just makes sense.”
There was so much I needed to unpack about his situation. Taking things with Tom to the level of meeting his kid felt like a deep dive.
It sounded scary, but in Tom’s arms after hearing more of his story, of seeing the lengths that he went to tonight to show me what was happening between us mattered, I had to step up too.
I could be messy, but I was not a coward.
If Tom Hughes was hell-bent on sweeping me off my feet, I was going to be fucking in it with him.
When I answered I looked him right in the eyes. “Sure, I’d love to meet her sometime.”
“Whenever you’re ready. I don’t want to rush you.”
I pushed up to give him a kiss. “She seemed pretty awesome just from the minute I spent with her, and I love hanging out with kids.”
And I really did.
I loved kids, I wanted kids. I wanted my own little family. That was the dream I’d never dared to dream. Of course perfect Tom would stroll up to my life with an adorable kid as part of the deal.
“Tom, I like you. I mean I really like you a lot, and with me that sometimes means going overboard and twisting myself into knots for the person I’m with. Almost every time it ends with me getting my heart stomped on. I’m not saying you’d do that. I just need to protect myself. Your life seems to have a lot of working parts, and I may be up for that. But I need to make sure I do it without losing myself in the process. It’s happened before and gone badly for me.”
Tom’s silence freaked me out a little, because I wasn’t trying to make a judgment on his life. “I’m not being judgy or anything.”
After a moment he nodded and his voice was serious but understanding. “I know, I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to tell me, and please do so anytime I overstep.”
“You didn’t overstep, and thank you for understanding. I’d love to meet Libe when we’re both ready for it.”
He nodded and kissed me again.
I wanted to be done talking and focus on the fact I had Tom in my bed in just his underwear and running his hands under my clothes. I sat up and pulled my sweatshirt off as he ran his hands over my chest, then I moved so I was straddling him again. I stroked his arms and neck. Loving how his big body filled my bed.
“I like this view.”
He pushed up with his hips so his cock brushed my ass, reminding me how good it felt when he’d been there before.
“View is not bad from where I am either.” His voice was low and so fucking sexy. Everything he did set my blood on fire.
I bent down and kissed him as I ground up hard against him.
“Chat time is over, Thomas Caonabo.”
Chapter Fifteen
Camilo
“What do you get to bribe a four year old so you can get full-time access to her daddy’s privates?” I asked Ayako, who was walking into my office with our daily mid-afternoon caffeine fix.
She laughed as she passed me my coffee. “Wow, you’re all the way in on this one, huh? Doing the dirty to a preschooler to get at her dad. Damn, Camilo.”
I rolled my eyes as I blew on the piping cup of coffee
. “Okay I admit it’s shameless, but I’m nervous and I really want her to like me! The time I met her she was wearing a ‘The Future is Female’ t-shirt and unicorn leggings, Ayako. This kid does not fuck around. I don’t want to lose access to Tom’s dick because I mess up with her.”
I was shrieking a little, but this was an emergency. Tom and I had been solid for over a month. After that first time at his house things had gone pretty smoothly. He had Libe a lot, but whenever he wasn’t with her, we’d been together.
When Libe was at Maxwell’s house for the weekend, I essentially moved into his house from the end of the day on Friday until I had to go over to my mom’s on Sunday. We’d had a couple of weekends like that so far, and they’d been amazing. Seriously like toe curling, “how is this even my life” incredible. We’d cook, go to the farmer’s market or go to Priya and Sanjay’s for a drink. But mostly it was just the two of us.
I’d never had a connection with anyone like the one I had with Tom. It wasn’t even the sex or the chemistry, which was pretty intense in its own right. Or how easy it was to be with him. What made it all feel so monumental was the reciprocity. I never felt like I wasn’t getting as much as I put in with Tom. It wasn’t even tit for tat or that I was keeping track. I just felt balanced. Like he wanted exactly what I gave, and I got as much as I needed. Attention, time, sex, space. Everything just right.
I felt Ayako tapping the side of my coffee mug with her sharp fingernails bringing me back from my Tom musings. When I turned, she was looking at me with concerned eyes.
“Whatever’s going on in your head, stop it. Things are going well with you guys. Why are you so worried about this?”
“That’s exactly why I’m nervous. Meeting his daughter means change. Our relationship is going to expand, and I’m not sure I want to give up the fairy-tale weekends yet. There is so much that could go wrong if we take things further than this.” I lowered my voice and looked at my open office door. “You know I’m walking a very thin line here.”
American Fairytale (Dreamers) Page 14
