31. VALLEY NORMAL
My boyfriend and I disagree on a lot of things. For instance, I think tub baths are fine, while he thinks they’re potentially dangerous. I think I could have half a glass of regular rosé. He goes out of his way to get me non-alcoholic Carl Jung.
I also feel that it happened too fast. He reminds me that’s just who I am, that no matter how long it took, I would have felt it was too fast. He has this tender, tender smile on his face when he says that, and it gives another reason for my chest to hop with hibiscus-and-lily lightness. It’s not necessary, but he still tells me that we are blessed. Of course we are. It’s “just” change.
At least he doesn’t propose. That would have sent me over the edge right now. The soft flaps in my stomach are hard enough for me to digest.
“The sun dove into the black ocean faster than he predicted. What was this planet? Wasn’t it Mars, where everyone went? Eric Markweisser looked at his smatch. It showed Earth-time and wouldn’t change until the amalgam of his uniform coagulated, merging with the sixteenth element of their air. Oh Eric had listened. He wouldn’t have unless it were for the low insistence in Captain Kaitlyn William’s voice.”
Ciro quiets in there, and the red light above the door turns off as he switches off his microphone. I creak it open. “Ready for a break from Mars?”
His eyes float to me, and he stands, stretching. “Oh but it’s Curdacula, mind you. Commander Eric Markweisser just doesn’t know it yet. Why else would the sun dive so quickly into the water?”
I lift my hands as if he’s got me there, and he winks before his gaze strays down my body to my stomach. She ticks.
“She did it again,” I say and stroke the slight bulge.
“Really?” He hugs me carefully. Then he kisses me and pets her from the outside. “I think she knows whenever I think of her.”
“She already has a sixth sense.”
“She’ll be a genius.”
It’s been six months since Drake-On-Demand got its first set of contracts. Since then, we’ve branched out, and what I just overheard was a sci-fi audio book for one of the smaller publishing houses. It’s Ciro’s second this month, and though it’s not where he earns the big money, we both enjoy them immensely.
We walk hand in hand to the kitchen for a cold lunch, and as usual, he reads my anxiety.
“We’ll be fine, baby girl.” He strokes stray hair away from my face.
“But I just started full-time at the college,” I say today like I did yesterday.
“How long is the degree?” He’s patient, ready to recycle our whole conversation from last night.
“Three years.”
“And how long do you have left?”
“Little over two years.”
“What do you think gives you more flexibility with our baby? Being done with school and in an entry position at a marketing job, or being a student?”
“Student. But I can’t just rely upon you for everything.”
He sits down on a barstool, pulls me in between his thighs, and runs his nose up until he reaches my earlobe. Briefly, he sucks it into his mouth. It gives me chills.
“I think you should rely on me. It’s the only thing that makes sense right now. You still love me?”
“Like crazy.”
“Good. And do you plan to spend your life with me?”
“Is this a trick question?” I bite my lip and look up.
“Don’t be coy with me or I’ll end up cautiously flinging you over my shoulder and carefully dropping you on the bed—which I shouldn’t because I only have my lunch break. I need to get back to making a living for my family.”
I tip my head back in the crook of his arm and savor the soft strokes of his tongue.
Ciro has worked steadily since he transitioned into his new role as a voice actor. For each project he aces, Sharon secures him a higher salary for the next one. It helps, according to the two of them, that he’s put in time in front of the camera. He knows the business and can separate reality from myth in porn, and it’s why his sound is so right-on.
When deadlines loom, I’ve got a night worker boyfriend on my hands. It’s not uncommon to wake up at four in the morning to the sound of him faking an orgasm in his studio. Since my hormones are in uproar these days, I’ll plod down the hallway and sneak in.
“Did I wake you up?” he asks then, eyes bright for me. They’ll run over my warm cheeks and my shiny gaze, and he’ll wait for me to act on my lust.
“You did,” I say and slide to my knees in front of him. He groans contentedly then and watches me free him from his boxers. There have been times when he’s later replayed our sounds after forgetting to turn off the recording.
“I should use us instead. We sound like the real deal.”
“Strange, isn’t it? Just bleep out all the Oh Savannahs and Ciro, my gods.”
“I do enjoy it when you call me god.”
Now, I take the plastic off our cold lunch platters and set them on the counter.
“Mom and Paul are passing by. She’s off to work but wanted to show us pictures of the newborn cheetahs first. She took a whole slew on her new camera.”
“Oh good. You think they want lunch?” He leans back in the chair and sends a look toward the window.
“No, you know Mom on late days. She slept in and just ate breakfast.”
He lets out the same relieved breath I do when I think of Mom. “She’s settled in nicely at the wild life center, hasn’t she?”
I grin. “Yeah. She’s so stoked.” My mother has been there for four months now, ever since her meds stabilized and she could keep a good routine. “Did she tell you they’ve upgraded her from volunteer to a part-time paid position?”
“They did?” He arches a brow the way I remember from back when I couldn’t look at him without blushing.
I tilt my head, mock-suspicious. “She’s with the cheetah habitat. I thought for sure you had a finger in that.”
“Not at all. I haven’t spoken with them since the first enquiry.”
I let out an evil laugh. “Like they could say no to having the future mother-in-law of their main sponsor volunteer over there.”
“Future mother-in-law?”
Oh crap.
“What’s this, Savannah? Can you picture it now?”
“No... I.”
“That’s not a way to end a sentence. Let’s dig into this a little, shall we?”
“Please don’t,” I say, but there is no panic in my voice.
The front door opens. My mother calls out a greeting. Princess single-barks and scrambles to the doggie-gate while I try to get out of Ciro’s arms.
“Hey, guys!” I shout too loudly. Paul’s low greeting rumbles down there too, but visitors be damned, my boyfriend isn’t letting go of me.
“Baby girl?”
“Yeah...”
“Can you see yourself without me in the future?”
“No, but...”
“Do you like parties?”
“What?”
“You know, big parties. With all of our friends. Suits. White gowns.”
My heart flutters, and I actually don’t mean it when I say, “Stop it.”
He produces the yellow ring from the pocket of his pants, and he’s holding it up between us just as Paul and my mother let themselves past the doggie gate.
Mom gasps. Really, she gasps and steeples her hands in front of her face in a perfect replica of Lin’s signature move.
“Oh my goodness, Paul, are you seeing what I’m seeing? Look what we’re here for. Oh goodness.” She gasps again. “Never mind us, kids. Go on. Ciro, you were saying?”
I think he winks at her before returning to me, but my heart is too busy hammering and our baby is too busy ticking. I don’t know what I want.
“Savannah? Baby girl. Be my hibiscus.” He lifts me on top of the barstool and sinks to one knee below me. Then he extends the ring. “Make me the happiest man in the world. Please, be my wife.”
I spent half a decade chasing stillness and called it cherishing the moment. I coddled my Status Quo. Whenever fleeting insight hit me, I blamed Mom’s nature and deemed the choice I had made the only solution.
From day one, Ciro Anthony Silveira challenged my safety. The pain he caused wasn’t my idea of living the moment, but neither was the bliss. If he hadn’t walked into Mintrer’s a year ago, I wouldn’t have been who I am today.
Look at me. I’m pursuing a college degree. I’m in a relationship with a man I want to wake up to every morning. Thanks to this man, my mom receives the best mental care available while living her dream right here in the Valley.
It would be a stretch to say I don’t fear the future anymore, but I’m conscious of my issues, and my love helps by always testing my courage. He’s the reason why a new life now thrives in my stomach. Oh yes, this little one, she was planned.
Despite the bliss-tinted fear, I open my mouth to whisper words I can’t take back. To hell with overthinking. To hell with nerves. To hell with all the what-ifs still left in my head. I can do this, this also, because with my man, it makes sense to be brave.
THE END
For book 2 in the Porn Star Boyfriend duet, click here: .