I slid my arms around his waist, pulling him slowly in, burying my nose in his hair. “I still can’t breathe when you’re close,” I whispered. “And last night was something I really wanted.”
I felt his body relax, and he melted into me. “There. That’s all I wanted to hear. Was that so fucking hard?”
Chuckling, I nodded. “A little, yes. The truth isn’t always easy to say.”
He eased back and looked at me. “Don’t matter if it’s easy. If it’s worth saying, you say it.”
“I told you, I’m bad at this.”
“Then get better at it.”
My brows rose, and he mimicked my expression, hands on his hips, daring me to challenge him. “Just like that.” I chuckled. “Just…get better at it.”
“Do you like me? Wanna keep me around?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Then get better at it quickly.”
Wow. The guy certainly knew how to cut straight to the point. And straight through my bullshit. How many times in my life had I used that excuse? That I just wasn’t good at the emotional stuff. That I wasn’t good at talking. I’d used it in my marriage. I’d ruined recent dates because of it. And now here was Orion, making clear that I’d better cut that shit out and do better, or I was going to ruin things with him. I heard him loud and clear.
“I’ll get better at it. I promise.”
Orion smiled, looking genuinely happy. “Good. I gotta go. I have an appointment.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
He grabbed his bag from the kitchen and we walked out front to his car. “I’ll send someone over to deal with your Spites,” he said as he put his bag in the trunk. “Might take a day or two to free Kora or Chapel up. But we’ll get to it as soon as possible.”
“Thanks. After what happened last night, I’m not gonna argue against the help. I’m not a fan of shadows in my room rifling through my jewelry.”
“We’ll get it fixed.” He leaned against his car door, arms crossed over his chest, and I got a flashback to that night in the carnival parking lot. When my brain hadn’t quite made its way around to the truth yet, telling me it was envy or just some odd fascination. With that reminiscence, it really hit me now. Holy shit. I slept with him last night. I slept with the hot psychic clown from the dunk tank.
“You still coming by the club tomorrow night with your friend?”
“That’s the plan. You still want me to talk to my father today about you moving into the garage or…?”
He smiled. “Sure. Feel him out, then we’ll talk more.” He gave me a quick kiss on the lips, then opened his car door and got in. “I’ll see you soon, tough guy.”
I watched him drive away, then wandered back inside the house, a goofy smile on my face. I had a lot to think about. Orion seemed to genuinely like me, yet at the same time, he was still fairly laid back about it all. His chilled attitude made me more relaxed. I wondered what would happen if this thing between us continued.
Would I walk the walk and live my principles, or would I get skittish about introducing him to people as something more than a friend? And what about my kids? Would it feel strange to tell people I was seeing a man?
I was getting ahead of myself. Rein yourself in. My instincts were telling me to tread cautiously, and I realized suddenly what that meant. It wasn’t that I cared what anyone else might think, because I honestly didn’t. I’d raised my kids right, and knew they’d understand if I told them I was bisexual. Might take some getting used to, but I was confident they’d never be assholes about something like that.
My trepidation was due solely to the fact that I liked Orion enough to worry he might hurt me. And I realized suddenly that was not a bad thing. It was a wonderful thing. Because I never thought I’d feel anything like this again. Over the past year, I’d felt dead inside. So, if Orion hurt me, he hurt me. So be it. Hurt was better than dead.
As I stepped back into the house, I paused. In the kitchen, the tap was running, and all of my cupboard doors were open. I shut the water off, and was closing the cupboard doors when I heard a crash from upstairs. I froze, heart pounding. “Come on, man,” I whispered. “Just give me a break today. Please. Please, no more.”
No more sounds came. I waited until I’d calmed down enough to go upstairs. Then I found the source of the crash, in my bedroom. My bureau had a tray filled with watches and rings, a few old coins, and a tin of candy mints. It was what I’d heard clinking around last night. The entire tray was on the floor in front of my bureau, facedown, items scattered around. I didn’t even stop to clean it up. Just grabbed my phone, my wallet, and left the house.
It was too much. “Fuck this,” I said as I walked down to Jasper’s house. “I give. It’s enough already.” I pulled my phone out and texted Orion. ‘Hey, the Spites just upended all my jewelry, turned the kitchen taps on and opened my cupboards, right after you left. Heading to Jasper’s. Please talk to Chapel asap - let me know.’
Orion responded instantly, with ‘On it’ followed by a kiss emoji. In spite of everything, I smiled, warmed by that stupid emoji.
“What the hell are you smiling at?”
I looked up to see Jasper working in his garden as I approached. He held a spade in one hand, with a bucket of weeds on the ground by his side. I was pleased to see him up and active so early—but then, Orion had gotten him into bed early, with promises that today would be a fresh start. It seemed to have worked. Jasper looked healthy, happy, and sober. And most importantly…he was fully dressed. “Hey, Dad.”
He tossed something at me, and I caught it, only to realize a moment later it was a snail. “Fuck!” I threw it to the ground and shuddered, rubbing my hands on my sweatpants. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Jasper laughed. “Slimy, was it?”
I couldn’t help laughing. “You’re in a good mood this morning. Back to peak level annoying.”
“It’s a beautiful morning to annoy my son,” he said, bending down to pull a weed. “I was wondering when you were gonna get your truck out of here.”
I’d left my truck in his driveway when Orion took me down to the seaside, and honestly, had nearly forgotten about it. “Yeah. Listen, can we go inside and have a cup of coffee? I need to talk to you about something.”
He pointed his spade at me, blue eyes narrowed. “I’m not moving into your damn garage! If that’s what you’re on about again, you can turn around and go home.”
“It’s not about that,” I said. “Not exactly.”
“Tell me out here,” he said. “I’m busy.”
I rolled my eyes, frustration bubbling up. I was too jittery to deal with his rudeness this morning. “Dad, can we please just go in and sit down?”
“Sit, sit, sit. Everyone always wants to sit. You know, when I was in the military, we used to hold every meeting standing up, to make sure everyone got straight to the point and didn’t waste time.”
“Jesus Christ, Dad, we’re not in the military! I just want to have a civil conversation with my father where he’ll look me in the eye and listen while I’m speaking. I’ve got a lot of crap going on, I don’t need your mouth. The kids keep blowing me off, my house is haunted, and I have a fucking hangover. Will it kill you to sit down and have a cup of coffee with your damn son?”