“You think I like them?”
“No, just... sorry.”
We all did the cootie dance, looking like a bunch of druids doing a ritual moon cleanse or something.
“Sorry I killed the mood,” I said, but the guys gave each other these looks, long and evaluative, until finally Trevor cracked with a shrug that said, I could still go for something.
Joe's responding shrug said, I'm game.
Men. Even a rat crawling up our bodies couldn't kill their libido.
“Let me get this straight. You two still want to make love after a nasty junk rat crawled up my entire body?”
“Did it, uh, touch your actual skin? Because as long as it only climbed on the clothed part of you...” Trevor commented.
I shook my head and headed for the car. “You disgust me.”
“You're still turned on too, aren't you?” Joe said, hightailing it to the car, Trevor moving to the driver's side, keys now in hand as he adjusted his dick in his pants. It was quite the impressive pole.
“No comment,” I said archly. But I stopped at the backdoor of the car, hand on the handle, and looked at the land.
Then I sprinted back to the shed, going through the open doorway, and used my fingernail to pry a single star off the ceiling. Then two.
And, finally, three.
Smacking all three in a line on my arm, I ran back, climbed in, and said to Trevor:
“Drive.”
“Back to the house?”
“Yeah.”
“And then...” Joe asked.
“I'll shower.”
“And...” Trevor inquired, eyes on me through the rear view mirror.
“And then I'm gonna do what I said.”
“What you said?”
“Yeah.”
“And that was?”
“EAT JOE INSTEAD!” I screamed back, then laughed so hard it was like I was howling at the moon.
“Thank you. Both of you.”
“For what?”
“Orgasms.”
They both laughed. We were back at the house, showered, DP-pleted, and every part of me that could be stretched a little too far felt overexposed.
Especially my heart.
“I think you need more than one thank you for that many orgasms,” Joe cracked.
“If I had to say it every time, I wouldn't get any other words in.”
Trevor tapped Joe's shoulder. “You okay with that? Because I am.”
I whapped him in the crotch. He ooofed and then laughed.
“We should be thanking you,” Joe said, voice pensive. “You expanded our world.”
“Huh? I expanded your world with... Peters, Ohio? The most insulated place on earth?”
“It's different than where we came from. It's still weird as hell, but it's becoming more...”
“More what?”
“Home,” he said simply, caressing my cheek. “Home.”
The glow-in-the-dark stars I took from my little purple passion place were affixed to the ceiling, just enough to shine down on us, but loose enough to remove and bring back to Boston, a piece of my past I could carry into tomorrow.
And gaze upon whenever I wanted.
Just then, we all perked up, because we heard it alright, loud and clear.
Squeak-er. Squeak-er. Squeak-er.
“Go Alex,” Joe murmured, shoving a pillow over his head.
Joe was right.
This sure felt like home again.
Chapter 24
Trevor
“You have to let him go, Joe,” I insisted, impatient.
“I will.”
“I meant now. You've been hogging the baby for a half hour.”
“What are you? The baby holding police?”
“I'm waiting my turn.”
“Then go load the car while you wait!”
“Already did.”
With a heavy sigh, he handed little Cal off to me. Instant warmth in the form of a squooshy baby in my arms made me feel lighter, my heart growing in my chest.
Yeah, that sounds soft and gooey. Whatever.
Little Cal’s eyes met mine and they expanded like a dilated pupil, his gaze making me feel like a minor god. No wonder everyone loved babies.
They made you feel invincible.
“Hey, Creampuff!” Josie shouted to me as Alex closed the trunk of their car and walked over behind her. She marched up to me, the corners of her eyes turning down as she looked at the baby. “He's so sweet. And you are a softy.”
“I am,” I admitted. Why fight it?
Alex's arm went around Josie, her head leaning against his chest. They both stared at Cal, Jr. with a sad hunger that made my gut clench. We tried actively not to get Darla pregnant. The last thing we wanted was a surprise baby.
But what did it feel like to want a baby and not be able to make one?
I couldn't imagine.
Liam had thought he was sterile for years, but turned out to have a few viable swimmers after being told otherwise. The guy wasn't exactly forthcoming about his feelings, so we never pried.
Like everyone else I knew, I just assumed I'd be able to produce kids when I was ready.
“Here,” I said, handing the baby off to Alex, who took him with expert hands. Someone so big holding someone so small made me smile. Josie's chin jutted up as she looked at the baby in Alex's arms.
“That's how it should be,” Darla whispered in my ear as her hand went to my waist. “God, I want them to have their own baby so bad. Josie says they're working on foster care approval.”
“They'll be incredible parents,” I murmured.
She nodded. “I want that so much for them.”
“I can tell.” I kissed her temple. “What about us?”
“Us?”
“Do you want kids for us? We never really talked about it.”
Joe caught my eye, then looked at the baby as Alex let Josie take him, her eyes shining with tears as she made little cooing sounds, the baby's eyes open and tracking her, watching with rapt fascination.
Joe spoke up. “Yeah. Someday.”
She squeezed my hip. “Me, too. Just not now.”
“No. But definitely someday.”
“Then we're all in agreement.” She turned to Josie and shouted, “Gimme that baby! I need to huff some baby head!”
“Get in line, Darla,” Josie called back, sniffing hard, obviously trying not to cry.
“You're dripping salt water on my brother's head.”
Josie shoved Darla with her non-baby-holding elbow. “Shut up.”
“Well, sheeeeeeeeet,” Darla said in a choked voice. “Now I'm crying! Thanks a lot, Josie! It's contagious.”
Sniff.
We all turned to look at Joe, who looked down, breaking eye contact.
“I figured I'd cry, but hell, Joe – are you crying, too?” Darla barked.
“NO!”
Sniff.
“My lordy, if you all are crying I'm going to turn into a salty bubbler,” Cathy said as she walked up to Darla, her gait stronger than ever. Darla had told us she had a new prosthetic foot, and it showed, her limp significantly less than it used to be. I had a flash to the first time I ever met her, the peyote still in me, Cathy sitting on a couch, weighing significantly more, surrounded by cigarette-stuffed ashtrays and watching Darla and me through slitted eyes.