Page 55 of Emerson
Penny is babbling, drool dangling from her bottom lip as she does more playing with her food than actually eating it. I’m going to have to gather all the shit that made it onto the floor before we leave.
“Yeah, they sent over a ton of cute patterns. I’m going to pick a few this weekend and start designing the new kids’ nook area. I’m excited about it.”
“That’s good, Sab. You deserve it.”
She pushes the salad around on her plate while I try to get Penny to stop tossing bits of her grilled cheese over her head.
“I have a confession to make,” Sabrina blurts when I turn back to her. She laughs awkwardly when I raise a brow in response, and she sets down her fork. “I ran into Zane and Emery last week after I picked Penny up from daycare.”
I ignore the way my insides swoop at just the mention of his name. I force myself to take a sip of water before responding. “Is that the confession?”
She shakes her head and gives me a sheepish smile. “I may or may not have said something to Emery that I thought it would be good for you to hang out with gay people.”
My mouth parts, and she cringes. “Listen, it was said a bit more eloquently than that…I think, and I didn’t come straight out and say that you are gay. It didn’t even occur to me that maybe you hadn’t told everyone yet until Emery’s eyes got so big I thought they were going to roll right out of his head, and Zane started choking on air to cover up his gasp.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’m so sorry, Dill, but I think they know.”
A vision of watery brown eyes looking up at me. Lips stretched wide to take my actual fucking cock in his mouth.
Yeah, pretty sure he knows.
“Are you mad? It’s totally okay if you are—I understand. I should have told you sooner, but I thought it was more of an in-person conversation, and every drop off since then you’ve been kinda tense, and…”
“Hey,” I reach out across the table, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. “It’s okay. I’m not mad.”
Her shoulders slump in obvious relief. “I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I think you really should consider hanging out with Emery more. Get out. Stop acting like you’re thirty going on sixty-five.”
I absolutely should not be hanging out with Emery.
“Yeah.” I smile, then switch the conversation to work. To Penny. To the safe topics that keep my blood pressure down.
When I get home after dinner, I turn on music and clean up the mess from having Penny. Wiping up little sticky fingerprints, putting away toys, and running the vacuum. I turn the music up louder, pretending it can block out the little countdown to sunset in my head.
I take the speaker with me to the garage when I’m done cleaning. I haven’t been to Bennets’ Bench Room since I punched Warren in the face for being a dumbass, and I can feel it. Even though my job is labor-heavy, Warren kept my ass in tip-top shape. Not sure how much the few kettlebells and weights can do for me, but I use them anyway.
By the time I work up a sweat, it’s nearing eight o’clock. I push myself for another half hour doing squats, lunges. Fucking jumping jacks. Anything to keep my body moving.
Because as soon as I stop, my phone finds my hand. Just like I knew it would.
No new emails.
Text still not delivered.
I’m too fucking old for this. This is exactly why I can’t be fucking around with Emerson. He may be good with sneaking in for scraps of time three nights a week. I’ve agreed to be this sneaky little new, shiny, fun thing for him. I’m a blip of excitement for him. And once he’s bored and proves to himself that he got what he wanted, he’ll move on.
And I’ll still be waiting for a text to go through.
I toss my phone on top of my fridge after grabbing a drink. Out of sight, out of mind.
I take a shower.
I climb into bed.
I turn on the TV.
I sit up more when my eyelids get heavy.
Eleven o’clock.
I glance at the window, then laugh. Rubbing at my tired face. The silence is instant as soon as I click off the TV, and even my thoughts aren’t loud enough to chase away sleep forever. The clock says 12:00 before I close my eyes.
