I head into the kitchen and pour three glasses of wine, handing them out to each of my friends.
“To ignoring our emotions until we’re absolutely forced to face them,” I jokingly toast.
They clink their glasses against mine, and we all laugh before taking a sip.
“Speaking of pretending our emotions don’t exist, how’s it going with Everett?” Jordy asks.
“Hey, that turkey smells great. Is it almost ready?” I evade the question, opening the oven door to peek in at the turkey needlessly.
“That bad, huh?” Mia guesses.
“Nope, it’s great.”
“Lie,” Jordy calls me out.
“Seriously, it’s great. Ev is incredible. He hits every single item on my list for the perfect man.”
“That’s fantastic.” Mia lights up.
“Is it?” I ask skeptically. “It’s never going to last.”
“You never know,” Jordy says optimistically.
“Yeah,” I agree, even though I do know. “How about we break into that crumble while we wait for the turkey?”
“Dessert before dinner?” Jordy asks, both of his eyebrows going up. “You’re a rebel; I like it.”
Chapter 20
Everett
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for Thanksgiving?” Val asks, leaning her shoulder against the front door and studying me with concern.
I can’t stay. My boyfriend invited me to spend it with his family. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t very well say them and then walk away, leaving her to process that on a holiday. Right, the holiday is the reason I’m being a chickenshit. I roll my eyes at myself internally.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m good,” I assure her, stepping forward to kiss her cheek. “Happy Thanksgiving and give your parents my love.”
“Will do. Happy Thanksgiving to you too.”
It’s a ritual I’ve gotten used to over the past few years, driving home from dropping off Livi for a holiday at Val’s that I won’t be part of. It was one of the many areas where the moderation of our custody agreement went smoothly. Most people fight over holidays, but I’ve always wanted Livi to have the big family experience. I do my own small holidays with her, but on the day themselves, I like her to be with her grandparents and her aunts and uncles. My parents passed away years ago, and I don’t have any siblings, which means holidays at my place aren’t anything to write home about. I’ve gotten used to the depressing moment where I set foot back inside my quiet, empty house to face the day alone. But today there’s no emptiness, no loneliness.
I whistle as I kick off my shoes and head down the hallway to my bedroom so I can get dressed in something a little nicer before Watson gets here to pick me up.
The doorbell rings just as I’m buttoning the last button on my shirt. I run my hands through my hair and reach for my baseball cap sitting on the nightstand out of habit, stopping just short of grabbing it. I want to look nice today, not like some slob of a middle-aged man who doesn’t know how to dress.
Watson greets me with a bright smile when I open the front door, a hint of nervousness in his eyes. He looks as incredible as ever, and now I have the added complication of knowing what it feels like to have his cock in my mouth to contend with as I try not to drag him inside and ravish him.
“Oh my god, you have to stop looking at me like that,” he says breathlessly.
“Like what?” I ask in a low, rumbly voice, quirking the corner of my lips up in a feral grin.
“You know what you’re doing,” he accuses. “But my parents live two hours away, so there’s no time for shenanigans.”
“Shenanigans?” I repeat with amusement.
“That’s right. All shenanigans have to wait until tonight.” He winks, and my body heats.
“I can live with that,” I agree. “But first…” I grab him and pull him close for a kiss, pressing our bodies together and sinking into the feeling of his mouth against mine until we both start to get hard.
“You’re incorrigible.” He murmurs his complaint against my lips, making no effort whatsoever to end the kiss.
He licks and nips at my mouth, sending tendrils of want down my spine, tightening in my groin. Now that I have the kiss with Ollie as a frame of reference, I’m even more aware of the heat generated when I kiss Watson. I don’t understand how I lucked into meeting the man of my dreams the second I poked my head out of the closet, but I’m thanking my lucky stars for it, that’s for sure.
The kiss ends, and I lock up on my way out and then covertly adjust my raging erection before sliding into the passenger side of his car.
“Are you nervous?” Watson asks once we’re out of my neighborhood.
“About what?” I scrunch my eyebrows together and contemplate the question.
“Meeting my family. That scares the hell out of a lot of people.”
My stomach drops. “Oh shit, I didn’t even think about it. This is a big step, right?” Why didn’t it occur to me what a big deal it was for Watson to invite me today? We’ve had two dates; what was he thinking?
“Relax,” he says with a chuckle, reaching over and patting my thigh. “I wasn’t trying to freak you out. It’s no big deal. I just didn’t want you to be alone on Thanksgiving.”
“Okay,” I breathe out a sigh of relief, which is short lived. No big deal? Does that mean he doesn’t want me to read into the invitation? Yes, we’ve only been on a couple of dates, but this doesn’t exactly feel casual. Does he think it’s casual?
“You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep thinking that hard,” Watson warns with a smirk.
“You shouldn’t have pointed out what a big deal this is,” I grumble, and he laughs.
“I’m sorry. Next time you meet my family for the first time I won’t put a spotlight on it,” he promises.
“Have you taken a lot of other boyfriends to meet your family?” I ask, realizing my slip as soon as the words are out of my mouth. “Not that I’m your boyfriend,” I rush to correct.
“Um…” He focuses extremely hard on the left turn he’s making, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. “No.”
“No, not a lot?” Not that it’s even my business, but I’m curious. I got the impression he’s dated quite a bit, but we haven’t talked specifics.
“None,” he answers.
“None?” I repeat with surprise. “Seriously?”
“Yeah.” He shrugs, chewing on his bottom lip. “There were a couple I considered inviting for a holiday, but they didn’t last long enough.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” His shoulders are tense, and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him look so glum. I clearly put my foot in my mouth bringing this up.
“It’s fine. The past relationships talk is important. We have to open up all of our baggage for each other and sort through it.”
I grin wryly, even though his eyes are still trained on the road ahead. “Lucky you, I started chucking suitcases at you the moment we met.”
“I didn’t mind,” he assures me, flickering his gaze to me momentarily and smiling. My heart jolts at the simple look.