by Monroe, Lila
Nat goes up on her tiptoes and kisses Justin. “How good a pool shark I am.”
I shake my head, trying hard to suppress a grin.
“So how do you want to play?” Natalie asks. “Girls against boys?”
Seth gives me a grin. “I don’t want to play against you. It would be hard on my ego to have to let you win.”
“Have to let me win?” I snort. “Oh, honey . . .”
Seth bends down to kiss me. “I want to be on your team,” he says, and it feels like he’s talking about way more than pool.
It turns out, Seth is great at the game—good enough to make up for my complete klutziness, anyway. And having him as a teammate definitely has perks: we celebrate good shots with kisses and touches. We also console each other after bad shots with . . . well, kisses and touches. By the time we admit a gracious defeat, I don’t even care about the game anymore, I just want to get him alone.
“How about we head out?” I whisper to him.
“Are you tired?”
“Nope.” I give him a flirty grin, and Seth laughs. “Let’s go.”
We head back down to street level and grab an Uber. Seth takes my hand in the backseat, curling his fingers through mine. “That was fun,” he says. “I like your friends.”
I look up at him. “Really?”
He smirks. “Yeah. Why are you surprised? Are they horrible people deep down or something?”
“No,” I laugh. “They’re great people. I guess . . . I just want you to like them. And them to like you.”
It’s out of my mouth before I realize just how . . . serious that sounds.
I can tell by the look in his eye that he caught it, but he just kisses me.
Really kisses me, the way he does when we’re a lot more horizontal. By the time we pull up outside my place, I’m breathless and panting for him. We practically race upstairs, and I scramble to unlock the door.
“Katie?” I holler, cautious.
Silence.
I look over my shoulder. Seth’s smirk and eyebrow waggle tells me he’s having the same Hallelujah thought. He slams the door closed and we rush to the bedroom, no words necessary. In record time, we’re undressed. I pull Seth back onto the bed, kissing him like my life depends on it. It’s frantic and hot, rushed and sexy. It’s exactly what I need right now, and soon, our hands are wandering, and those gasps are turning to groans, and I need him inside me so much I can barely breathe.
I grab a condom from my nightstand and roll it on him. “Fuck, April,” he groans, as my hands close around him.
“That’s the plan,” I tease.
He rolls us, settling between my thighs, his mouth on my breasts, and his weight pressing me down into the mattress. God, I want him. And then he’s there, sliding his cock into me, pushing in deep, all the way. He pauses there for a moment as we adjust to how good it feels, him filling me completely.
And then he starts to move.
We find a rhythm together and it’s so good I’m nearly there, saying his name over and over, frantic, desperate to come. He kisses me, swallowing my pleas as our bodies move, slick with sweat and pure need, until finally I crash over the edge, climaxing around him in a burst of white-hot pleasure. Seth lets out a groan and shudders into me, his body pinning me down, surrounding me, holding me tightly.
And all I can think is, I never want to let go.
17
April
If there’s a better way to wake up than next to Seth in my bed, I can’t imagine it. Wait. I can. It’s waking up next to Seth in my bed and he has a big plate of waffles and syrup. Which I then eat off his ripply abs, licking all the sticky syrup off before it dribbles onto the sheets.
“I want to know every thought behind that blissful grin on your face,” he says when he opens his eyes.
“You,” I say. “And waffles, if I’m being honest.”
He snuggles close, his arms coming around me. “I can help with one of those things.”
“Mmmm. I do love waffles,” I hum, making him laugh. I arch so he can reach more of my neck. “We could go out for brunch. I have the whole day free.”
He mutters something into my flesh and angles his hips into me, making me gasp, because: Good morning.
Needless to say, brunch is forgotten for some time.
After a shower, I bring up the subject again. Seth is getting dressed and seems in a hurry to leave. Without me.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “But I can’t stick around. I’ve got . . . something I have to do today.”
This suddenly feels a lot like a brush-off. My feelings must show, because he quickly adds, “Believe me, I’d rather be in bed with waffles—and you—but I have to schlep out to Connecticut. It’s a family thing.”
I pause, curious. Seth has pretty much said zilch about his family, and I wonder what the story is there.
“Do you want some company?” I venture.
Seth looks surprised. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask. I offered,” I correct him. “But it’s your call. If you want to just go on your own, I won’t be offended.” I offer up a smile so he knows I mean it. I really don’t want to make things weird by seeming overly eager to meet his family.
A slow smile spreads across his endlessly kissable lips. “You know what? That would be great. I’d like that a lot. Thanks, April.”
I walk him to the front door, and after several lingering kisses at the door, we plan for him to go change at his place and pick up his rental car before coming back to pick me up.
“Did my ears deceive me?” Katie asks, emerging from her bedroom as I close the door. “Are you, gasp, meeting the parents?”
“Yes.” I can’t help the smile on my face.
“Wow, big step.” Katie gives me an assessing look. “Family disapproval is behind like, thirty percent of breakups, you know.”
“Don’t say that!” I wail. “I want them to like me. they will like me, don’t you think?”
Katie grins. “Of course they will. You’re downright adorable.”
“You make it sound like a bad thing,” I mutter, before being struck with a sudden thought. “But what do I wear?!”
With Katie’s help, I settle on a nice but casual outfit. Seth told me to just dress comfortably—it’s not a fancy party. When he comes to pick me up outside, I see two people in the back and turn to introduce myself—until I find myself face to face with a couple of bears. Ginormous stuffed bears. One polar, one grizzly.
“Want to tell me about our carpoolers?” I ask, laughing.
He gives a smile. “They’re for my brothers.”
“Who love bears, obviously,” I say, fiddling with the heat and discovering the seat warmers, which are basically life.
Seth pulls into traffic. “Yeah. I think I told you my dad wasn’t around much when I was growing up.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, sympathetic.
“Anyway, my mom remarried a few years back and had twins. The boys are awesome—Ryan and Kyle. They’re five. I always wanted siblings, so it’s all good, you know? And Frank—my stepfather—is a good guy. I mean, I don’t really think of him as a father figure, but he’s good to my mom. It’s nice to have a family.”
It sounds like he’s trying to convince himself as much as me. It makes my heart twist. I know how complicated families—especially blended families—can be. “Yeah, for sure,” I say. “But you didn’t tell me the most important thing about today.”
He takes his eyes off the road to glance at me. “What’s that?”
“Will there be food? Because if not,” I jerk my thumb toward the bears in the back seat, “Chilly, Yogi, and I are going to need a pit stop.”
Seth laughs, his frown lines gone. “Yes, there will be food. No need to worry. You and the bears will be well fed.”
“Good,” I say. “Because I’m nursing a serious waffle deficiency right now. You have no idea.”
“Noted,” he says, grinning.
&n
bsp; “But seriously,” I add. “I know family events can get . . . fraught, so if you want to bail, we can have an escape word. Liiiike . . . uhhhh . . . hydrangea.”
“Hydrangea? Like that’s easily slipped into a sentence?” He shoots me a panty-melting grin. “In the middle of winter.”
“Please.” I wave him off. “I’m a florist. I can slip flowers into any sentence.”
We spend the drive out to Connecticut listening to music and chatting along the way. We talk about our families, our friends, and even our favorite flavors of birthday cake (classic vanilla for me, black forest for him). It’s so nice and laid back, that I’m almost sad when he pulls into a circular driveway out in the suburbs just outside of Bridgeport. I look up at the house, which is like something off the cover of Better Homes and Gardens: a big wedding-cake Colonial with blue shutters and yes, a real-life white picket fence. It’s a beautiful home, and I can just imagine Seth climbing the big maple trees in the yard as a boy. Then I remind myself he didn’t grow up here.
I look over at him and notice the crease between his eyebrows. “Are you OK?”
He shakes off the frown and smiles. “It’s nothing. Thanks for coming with me today.”
“Anytime. Just remember, hydrangea,” I remind him.
We each grab a bear and head toward the big front door. The second we’re in the huge foyer, it becomes very clear we’re at a kids’ party—the walls echo with the excited shrieks and yells from at least a thousand five-year-olds, hurtling through the house at breakneck speed.
Seth and I exchange slightly alarmed glances. “OK then, questioning my life choices,” I say.
Seth laughs, but he must think I’m a flight risk, because he grabs my hand and leads me to the back of the—gorgeous, gigantic—house. The marble kitchen is already a bustle of activity as caterers and servers are prepping platters of food, there are balloons everywhere, and is that . . . ? Yup, a bounce house in the yard that’s basically a bounce castle.
Forget Seth’s brothers, I want this to be my birthday party!
A tall woman dressed in classic suburban mom clothes (khakis and a cardigan) is bent over a giant tray of cupcakes, icing the last one. She looks up and brightens. “Seth!” she exclaims, beaming. “You made it.”
“Hey, Mom,” he says, giving her a hug.
“The boys will be thrilled you’re here. And not just because you spoil them.” She grins wryly at me as she wipes her fingers on her apron and offers me her hand. “Hi, I’m Karen. Seth’s mom, obviously.”
“I’m April,” I say. “It’s great to meet you.”
“Can we do anything to help?” Seth asks, looking around at the mayhem.
Karen shakes her head. “Everything’s under control. Food will be out in twenty minutes and then the magician should be here by four. If all goes well, I’ll be cleaned up and drinking wine in the bath by seven.” She smirks at me as she crosses her fingers.
A chorus of, “MOOOOOOM!” echoes through the house.
“Make yourselves at home,” she tells us, and she disappears down the hallway.
“So . . .” Seth says, looking kind of nervous. “That was my mom. Want to go downstairs and meet my stepdad, the birthday boys, and a million of their closest friends?”
I sneak a slider off a tray on the counter. “In a minute. Chilly the bear is pretty hungry.”
After I clean a glob of ketchup off the otherwise very white polar bear, we make our way downstairs to the basement-slash-playroom, where two dozen kids are racing around, hopped up on sugar and wearing Marvel costumes. I meet Frank and the twins. The boys are clearly smitten, and not just with the bears—they obviously look up to their big brother. And he obviously adores them too, getting stuck right into their games as the kids rampage through the house and cluster around for the magic show.
By the time the cake is cut, everyone looks wiped—including Seth.
“Let’s check out the bounce house,” I suggest, so we grab our cake and sneak outside.
It’s cold, but after all the shrieking kindergartners, the silence is blissful. We clamber inside and sit in one of the corners facing each other.
“Sorry it’s vanilla,” I say, remembering his cake of choice.
He shrugs, licking a smudge of frosting off his lips. “I get black forest on my birthday, so I can’t complain.”
He’s still acting weirdly subdued, and I’m guessing there’s more to his mood than cake. “How are you holding up?” I ask. “I would feel kind of weird, if I were you.”
Seth exhales, sighing. “Weird just about covers it.” He pauses. “I know I have no rational reason to be envious of five-year-olds; I mean, that’s stupid. But it’s still jarring, seeing this life my mom’s built for herself. We really struggled growing up. My dad was a deadbeat, was never around. He contributed nothing—unless you count debt and heartache. Don’t get me wrong,” he adds quickly. “I’m glad she doesn’t have to struggle anymore. I love that she’s happy now and can give everything to Ryan and Kyle . . . I just . . .” He trails off. “Part of me feels like she had a chance to do it all over and got herself a shiny, perfect family this time around. It’s hard to feel like I belong here, sometimes.”
I wince. “It’s not wrong to wish she could have been that mother to you, Seth,” I say gently. “No one should have a shitty childhood. It’s not wrong to look back on yours and wish it could have been better. It doesn’t make you a bad person, either. It makes you human.”
He nods, still downcast. I continue. “And for what it’s worth? Those kids freaking worship you and you’re great with them, so you have nothing to feel guilty about.”
Finally, he looks up at me and gives a tired smile. “Thanks, April.”
My heart does a weird aching thing. I want to put a smile back on his face—a real one. I want to take him far away from this, and remind him that he’s awesome and deserves the best.
“Now look,” I say, as I start to awkwardly shuffle (with the cake) toward the door of the bouncy castle. “You presented two giant bears and me—that’s three amazing gifts—to your family. You ate their food and made nice for an appropriate amount of time. I think I even saw you scrape a plate into the garbage, so I’m calling hydrangea on this party.”
His eyebrows go up. “Really?”
“Really,” I say. “Let’s get out of here.”
The kids are camped out in front of a movie now, so we take the opportunity to shove a pile of leftover desserts into Tupperware and duck out the back. It’s still early, and neither of us is in a rush to get back to the city, so Seth drives us out to the beach. It’s deserted, obviously, thanks to it being dead of winter. But we’re not there to build sandcastles.
We open the Tupperware and have a little sand-free picnic in the warmth of the car, looking out at the waves as we talk more, about our childhoods and parents and how watching their marriages fall apart helped shape our own views on love.
“It showed me how much of a relationship is proximity,” Seth says ruefully. “You fall for the person who’s right in front of you. And if they’re never around . . .”
“You don’t believe that!” I argue. “You say your meet-cutes are all about creating opportunities and using data and planning to get people together, but I think you have the heart of a true romantic.”
“Oh really?” Seth asks, quirking a teasing brow.
“Definitely,” I insist. “You want to see people happy together. You believe in love.”
“Maybe . . .” he admits, looking bashful. “But shhh, don’t tell. They’ll kick me out of the club.”
18
Seth
I wake up in my own bed. April’s beside me, still sleeping. My first thought is, I could get used to this.
My second thought is, Shit.
Because I’m not used to this: the sharing, the late-night talks, just hanging out with nothing much in mind.
And the sex. The amazing, connected, hot-as-hell sex.
She’s smart
and savvy, takes no shit, but is also caring and compassionate. She was so great yesterday, understanding my conflicted feelings about my family. How I love them but don’t quite fit in with them.
She makes me feel like I fit perfectly with her.
April sighs in her sleep, rolling over. She’s got her hair sticking out in all directions, and I’m pretty sure she was drooling on the pillow in the night, but she looks goddamn adorable to me.
I wonder if this is the real deal. I’ve never been in love before. Is this it?
Is she it for me?
She grunts and her eyes flutter open. It takes her a moment to focus, but when she sees me watching her, she smiles. “Good morning, creeper. You’re watching me sleep?”
I don’t even care that I’ve just gotten busted.
“You mean watching you drool?” I tease.
She sucks in a breath. “I never drool!”
Which is a lie. I lift my eyebrows.
“Yeah, well, you talk in your sleep,” she smirks.
“Do I, really?”
“Yes.” She nods, biting her bottom lip, drawing my attention there. Thinking about when her lips were occupied with things other than talking. Sexy, naughty, fucking amazing things.
“And what did I say?” I prod.
She teases her lip some more, killing me. “Lots of things.”
“Like?”
“Like how you want to take me for waffles.”
I laugh. “I’d love to take you for waffles,” I say, giving her a scorching kiss, pulling her close. “In another twenty minutes.”
“Twenty?” April grins. “You’re pretty confident.”
“Damn right I am,” I say, reaching under the covers, ready to show her why.
Two orgasms and three waffles later, we’re just about to go our separate ways for the day, when I recognize a woman who’s just walked in the café.
She sees me and lights up. “Seth!” she practically shrieks before she throws her arms around me for an enthusiastic hug. “Ohmigod, I’m so glad I ran into you! Look! Matt put a ring on it!” She pulls back and waves her hand in my face, a giant diamond ring on her finger.
