As Frank passes by, a conspiratorial smirk on his face, he pats Joey on the back. “Listen here, fellas. I like masturbation as much as the next guy…” That statement alone throws me back into my hysteria. “But that’s not testicular health. That’s fake news, and you got duped by it. Let me know if you need a recommendation for something to clear up that chaffing.”
Joey looks back down at his phone, discreetly adjusting himself—or maybe trying to relieve some of the tenderness from overuse—with shock written on his face while Frank saunters off.
“Seriously?” Joey looks even more stumped now. “But it looks real. It even cited the Journal of United States Medicine.”
Another laugh barks out of me. “That’s not even a thing. It’s the Journal of American Medicine. That’s an Onion article, Joey!”
“Son of a bitch, I didn’t even notice.” Now that he’s up to speed, my laughter begins to subside until he yells, “Frank! Don’t tell Tabitha. Please? Frank!”
There’s no response because Frank is already gone. Which means, this news is about to spread like wildfire. Only better. The only damage will be to Joey’s reputation. Actually, no. His current reputation will only confirm this whole incident is plausible, and that makes it even more fun for me.
Zipping up my jacket, I toss my bag over my shoulder and head to the childcare center to let Elliott know I’m heading out. This is our normal routine, so I know she isn’t worried. But I find it to be common courtesy to let her know. Besides, she needs to know her little article worked. She’s going to get a kick out of this.
“I don’t get it,” Joey says as he catches up to me. “Why would Elliott send me that article then? Did she send it to you?”
“Nope.”
“But if she was so worried about this, why am I the only one she sent it to?”
“Really? You can’t figure out why she would want to trick you into whacking off three times a day and overusing your… hand?”
For a split second, I see a flicker of understanding. And then it’s gone. “You think she did it on purpose?”
I shake my head and pull the glass door open. “Maybe you should ask her yourself.”
Speak of the she-devil, Elliott’s already in the process of pulling out tables for workstations, like she does every day at this time in preparation for the older kids.
“Hey,” I call out to her. She looks up and smiles at me. I love that smile. It’s not saccharine sweet or fake. But it is different than it used to be. It’s more… mine. Like everyone else she’s friends with gets a certain look, but this one is that of a friend, roommate, and lover. More intimate somehow.
Oh Lord. I must have sweated out every bit of testosterone in my body during that last squat to be thinking like this. Now where did I put my man card?
Elliott stops what she’s doing to come talk to us. “Did you beat your record?”
The fact that those are the first words out of her mouth make me want to puff out my chest and maybe beat it a little.
Found the man card.
“You should have seen it, Elliott,” Joey exclaims wildly, forgetting the whole reason he followed me in here. “This guy barely flinched. Like he was just picking up Mabel or something, not almost five hundred pounds. It was awesome.”
Elliott’s eyes sparkle as she listens intently to Joey ramble on about the crowd and how red my face was, like this is the most interesting thing she’s ever heard. Damn, I love this woman.
Yeah, I said it. I love her. Not as my friend anymore, but just as her, and it doesn’t wig me out at all.
“We could hear the cheers from here, so we figured you’d done it.”
I chuckle, a little embarrassed that the crowd was so loud. “Yeah, it would’ve been a totally different reaction if I’d fallen over.”
Joey claps me on the back. “No way that was gonna happen. He did great, Elliott. You should be proud.”
“I am,” she says quietly and smiles shyly at me. Not that she has anything to be shy about, but I’m pretty sure she’s having the same thoughts as I am—our feelings are getting deeper every day, just from the little things that happen. The small victories we share. The secrets we keep. The sex.
Let’s not forget about the sex.
“But hey, Elliott, I have a question,” Joey says.
Or maybe we need to forget the sex for now.
She tears her gaze away from mine. “Sure, Joey. What’s up?”
He turns his phone to show her what he’s looking at. “Did you know this article was fake? There isn’t really any risk of a semen back up.”
Dinah happens to be walking by with a baby in her arms and stops. “Um, guys. I don’t know what you’re talking about, but can we be careful with our words about certain bodily functions while in the vicinity of small ears?”
Elliott takes the phone out of Joey’s hands and gives it to her boss. “He’s asking about the validity of the article I sent him the other day.” If I didn’t know better, I’d say my girlfriend was sporting a victorious smile with a little bit of maliciousness mixed in.
“Wait. You knew this wasn’t real?” Joey’s still baffled as to how Elliott didn’t know this was all misinformation. As if the idea of her sending it on purpose is perplexing to him.
The more she reads, the more Dinah starts to laugh softly.
“Of course, I knew,” Elliott confesses.
Poor Joey looks stumped now as to why his most prized possession would become the butt of a joke. Actually, that sounds like a joke within itself, but I refrain from saying as much. I don’t think his poor, wounded ego could take much more.
“Why, Elliott? Why would you send that to me, knowing it would end in chaffing so bad, no medicated lotion could fix it?”
Dinah and Elliott both get wide-eyed. “You’ve actually been… you mean… Joey, three times a day?” Dinah barely gets the words out, clearly not sure if she should laugh or offer him some sort of help.
“Of course.” He holds up his hands like it’s a no-brainer to spend half your day spanking the monkey. “Who jokes about this kind of thing? I’ll tell you who—a sad, sadistic woman, that’s who.”
Dinah loses her battle and starts laughing. Elliott, on the other hand, crosses her arms over her chest. She may have won this battle, but she’s waiting to see if she’s started a war. “More like a woman who was getting you back for telling everyone at work about my love life.”
“That’s what this was about? You’re mad a few people know about you’re bumping uglies with this meathead?” I shake my head when he gestures to me. Joey will never learn. I often wonder how many times he was dropped on the head as a baby.
“Wait a minute,” Dinah butts in, bouncing the baby in her arms and rocking back and forth. “You guys are together now? Like together together?”
Elliott eyes widen briefly as she realizes she just let her own cat out of a diaper bag. When all else fails, her go-to defense mechanism is to deflect, deflect, deflect. “Isn’t there a baby who needs to be changed or a fistfight between three-year-olds happening that you need to break up?”
“No, things are pretty quiet right now,” Dinah quips back. “And this is really entertaining to be honest. I’d rather stand here.”
Cue Elliott’s dramatic eyeroll. She should know better than to think she was going to get off that easily. Frankly, I’m shocked Dinah didn’t know about our new dating status until now. Tabitha is usually more on her game with the rumor spreading. Either Carlos is keeping her super busy with his baby gushing, or she’s dying of something terrible. Someone should probably check on her because, either way, I’m sure it’s super painful for her.
“Fine.” Elliot finally sighs, again with the dramatics. “We were trying to keep it under wraps because there are kids involved but Perez Hilton here,” she says, gesturing to Joey, who mouths, “Who me?” as she rolls her eyes, “can’t keep his trap shut.”
“Well, that’s kind of your fault for thinking he could keep a se
cret in the first place,” Dinah cuts in, quickly glancing around the room to make sure all hell hasn’t broken loose while she gets her daily entertainment news.
“It’s not like he found out on purpose. So, to answer your question,” Elliott continues, “yes, Abel and I are… um…taking things slow.”
“Together,” I interject. “She means we’re together.” Elliott’s jaw drops, and I respond with, “No use in pussyfooting around it, babe. You know Dinah is going to come to her own conclusions otherwise. Joey did.”
“Well, I know but… I don’t know.”
“I know. It’s still new. You’re still wrapping your brain around it. The girls are having a tough time of it. I know.”
Elliott looks back and forth between Joey and Dinah, pleading in her eyes. “This is why I wanted to keep it private for a while. It’s a complicated situation.”
Dinah gives her an incredulous look and shifts the now squirming baby in her arms. “What’s complicated about it? Man and woman meet. Man and woman boink. The end. The most complicated thing about it is how I’m a much better matchmaker than I knew.”
“How come you can say boink in here, but I can’t say semen?” Like I said, Joey never learns.
He takes a full step backward when Dinah hisses at him. Serves him right.
Elliott throws her hands up and grumbles something about giving up on caring anymore and goes back to setting up her tables, waving her hand in my direction when I yell that I’m leaving to get the girls.
At least she noticed. Dinah and Joey are too entrenched in their standoff about kid-friendly words to even notice me walk out the door.
Chapter Twenty-Six
ELLIOTT
Today has been a long, painfully hard day. And I mean that in the most literal sense of the word.
Not only did one of our “energetic” four-year-olds kick me in the shin when he got angry about having to share the train table, but one of the homework tables collapsed and landed on my toe while I was putting it away.
This is probably the only time in the last six months I’ve been glad cold weather lasts so long around here, because I have no desire to shave my legs or wear flip-flops with all the black and blue I’m sporting right now. All I really want is to sit down on the couch, take my shoes off, put my feet up, and not move.
Maybe if I’m lucky, Abel will bring me dinner on a TV tray, and I won’t have to get up once I sit.
Thoughts of Abel catering to me as I rest quickly morph into me lying on a lounge chair by a fabulous pool with sparkling blue water, wearing a fabulously expensive deep yellow bathing suit and fabulous super dark sunglasses. Glam is the only way to describe it. Especially when I shake out my Pantene-esque hair. And Abel walks up wearing a tiny little Speedo to feed me grapes.
A smile graces my lips as the world around me fades, only my fantasy to keep me company as I limp down the street to the house. My mood elevates with each grape my fantasy-self eats, and I find myself practically floating instead of walking. Nothing can change how I’m feeling right now, as if nothing can go wrong and everything is right in the world—
Splash!
Odd. That water isn’t warm like the pool I was just sort of not really sitting next to. It’s cold. And slushy. And only up to my ankle. What the…?
Looking down, I find the culprit of my lost happy attitude.
“A freaking puddle? What else could go wrong?” I grumble to myself, as I shake my now freezing foot off and continue with my trek home. “And when the heck did it rain?”
Fantasy bubble now burst, I concentrate on finding the right townhouse. With the way things have gone today, I wouldn’t put it past me to walk into the wrong building.
Fortunately, my key fits when I finally make it to the front door. That means I’m in the right place.
“I’m home,” I yell as I step into the tiny foyer area, stripping myself of my shoes and socks before ridding myself of my coat. Thank goodness there is a pile of clean towels on the banister waiting to be carried upstairs. At least I can dry off my poor foot before limping to the couch.
Abel’s head pops out from around the corner, and I assume from the smell he’s cooking dinner. “Hey!” His face looks bright and happy, the exact opposite of my mood. It’s charming and irritating at the exact same time. I would question that thought more except Daniel Tiger taught me a few years ago it’s okay to have more than one emotion at the same time.
Damn Daniel Tiger and all his preschool-aged wisdom.
Still, my mother raised me to not be rude. “Hey.” A grumble is better than nothing, right?
Apparently not, because Abel’s face changes to one of concern as he comes closer. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“Yeah, something happened. Lots of somethings happened. I had a terrible day complete with several injuries, a giant cold puddle, and now you’re not wearing a Speedo.”
He looks down at the clothes he’s wearing and back up at me as I finally plop down on the couch. “Uh… I didn’t realize there was a particular uniform for cooking dinner.”
“If we’re not having grapes, it doesn’t matter anyway.” Looking at my now bare toe for the first time, I realize it’s red and swollen, and a bruise is clearly forming. No wonder it hurts to walk on it. Pressing gently on different areas, I wince. “We don’t have an ice pack or something, do we?”
“Let me look at that.” I lean back on the couch as he sits on the edge of the coffee table and gently takes my foot in his hand. “Holy shit, Elliott. What did you do?”
“Dropped a table on my toe.”
“That’ll do it.” He continues to examine the injury and various parts of my foot. “It looks like it might be broken. Do we need to take you for an X-ray?”
I shake my head, enjoying the feel of his gentle hands on me. I never got to this part of my fantasy, so I make sure to lock it into my memories for the next time I need a moment away.
Also, he better remember to wash his hands when he goes back to cooking.
“It’s a broken toe. What are they doing to do? Tell me to tape it and send me on my way. I’d rather save the money. And I’d rather stay right here on this couch. Where are the girls anyway?”
He raises an eyebrow in response.
“Ah,” I say, understanding perfectly. “On the Wii.”
“Where else?”
“They’re not playing kickboxing right? They’re getting a little too aggressive with that one.”
“Nope. They begged, but I reminded them of the close miss the other day. Joey can be a real baby if he gets kicked in the face.” Abel pats me on the leg and stands up. “I was actually about to call them up for dinner. I assume you want me to bring yours on a TV tray?”
Oh! That’s how my cabana boy fantasy started! If things continue this direction, my night is about to get a lot better.
“That sounds perfect.”
Abel leans over to gently kiss me on the lips. “Don’t get any crazy ideas about it. I’m still not putting on a Speedo.”
Drat. So much for my good night. At least he’s letting me rest for a few minutes before taking over my mom duties again. For that, I’m grateful.
Closing my eyes, I do that mom thing where I zone out but am still listening to everything around me. Especially when Abel calls the girls for dinner. As always, they come barreling up the stairs, giggling the whole way.
“What are we having for dinner, Daddy?” Mabel asks excitedly.
“Yeah! What are we having?” Ainsley immediately parrots. “And when is my mom getting home?”
“She’s already here, but she had a hard day. She’s on the couch if you want to go say hi.”
“Mom!” Ainsley yells, and I hear her run into the living room. “You’re home!” She launches herself onto my lap before my eyes open, hugging me.
“I got here a couple minutes ago.” Smoothing down her long blond hair, which is falling out of her ponytail from all her afternoon activity, I kiss the top of he
r head. “How was your day? Did you take your spelling test?”
She nods and tightens her arms around my waist. “I got a ninety on it. I forgot the E on the end of jive.”
“Hmm. Those E’s sneak up on ya sometimes, don’t they?”
“It’s okay. I think we’re done with silent E’s for a while. Now we’re doing long O’s.”
Mabel comes walking in the room, not nearly as happy as Ainsley is to see me. Still, I’m the adult here, so I greet her with a smile on my face like I would anyone else.
“Hi, Mabel. Did you have a good day at school?”
Glancing down at my foot briefly, she ignores my question, opting to glare at me instead. “Why do you have your feet on the table?”
Leaning forward, I take a closer look at my injury. “I think I have a broken toe.” Ainsley gasps and also leans in to inspect the bruise. Mabel has virtually no reaction. Except for spite and malice, of course.
“You’re not supposed to have your feet on the table. Dad says so.”
I have had a horrible day and am way too irritated for a pissing match with an eight-year-old. So, I have a very methodical choice to make. I can tell Mabel to shove it. Or I can show Ainsley what it means to turn the other cheek and have some integrity. I’m honestly torn between the two responses.
Okay, fine. I know I’ll pick the latter because that’s who I am. But I may or may not have just had another brief fantasy that included it not being illegal or immoral to stuff a wet sock in a child’s mouth.
“Your dad already knows and is bringing me an ice pack to put on it.”
“Why ice, Mommy? Won’t that hurt it?”
She’s not wrong. I hate that part. But it still beats an ER co-pay.
“Just for a few minutes. But then, it’ll make the swelling go down, which will make it feel better.”
Cutie and the Beast: A Roommates to Lovers Single Dad Romance (Cipher Office Book 3) Page 20