I couldn’t stop the thought of Suzy moaning on my lap, facing away from me last night as I finger-fucked her. She was hesitant at first, nervous someone would see us, as I unzipped her pants enough to slide my fingertips inside. I wiped any thoughts out of her mind with a few strokes of my fingers. I watched her face as she rested her head against my shoulder—I watched her eyes roll back, and a small sound escaped her lips. “Quiet, sugar,” I whispered in her ear, and she obeyed. Stroking her insides, circling her clit until her body shook and her pussy clamped down on my fingers.

She didn’t move at first as I withdrew my fingers from her lace panties and brought them to my lips, wrapping my lips around them as I sucked her juices, and she stared at me with an open mouth and wide eyes.

“Mm. Taste yourself on me.” I bent down and pressed my lips to hers, dragging my tongue across her bottom lip.

“City.” She moaned in my mouth.

Reaching up and pulling her face to mine, I crushed my lips to hers.

“Joey. What the fuck?” Something hit my shoulder, and I blinked.

“What the fuck, Iz.”

“Your dopey ass has been sitting there in fucking La-La Land for ten minutes grinning like a fucking mental patient. Snap. The. Fuck. Out.”

“Couldn’t just leave me there?” I asked. “And Iz, stop fucking hitting me. You’re the only person that I let get away with that shit. You’re always poking me with those bony-ass fingers.”

“It’s time to eat. Mama’s been calling for everyone to come to the table.” She rolled her eyes at me before walking away.

“I’m coming, Ma.” I adjusted my dick in my jeans. My mind had become a little too engrossed in my fantasy, and the relief I needed would have to wait. I climbed off the couch and slid my hand in my pocket, looking for the phone that vibrated against my dick.

Suzy: I love your idea of or what.

Based on her message, I could tell I wasn’t the only one thinking about our time on the beach.

“Iz, what the hell do you call the what, where, when, why, and how in English?”

She looked at me confused as I sat down at the table. “Trying to impress the teacher?” She giggled.

“Just answer the question, please.” I sighed and stared at her, placing the phone on the table.

“What teacher?” Ma asked.

“Iz, what’s it called? Throw me a bone.”

“Interrogatives.” My sister rolled her eyes before turning to face our mother. “He’s schtuppin’ a teacher, Ma.”

“Isabella! That’s not appropriate at the dinner table.” My mom set the lasagna on the table. “I want details, Joseph.” Ma winked at me.

Me: Wait until you feel the rest of my interrogatives.

I placed the phone on the table and looked around the room. Everyone had their eyes glued on me instead of the meal, as they usually were. “What?”

“You’re smiling as you type—who is she, Joseph?” Ma said as she dished out the first steaming slice of heaven to my father.

“Just a woman, Ma.” I held up my plate as I waited to be served. My mother was traditional in many ways, refusing to let us serve ourselves. She was the one to dish out the food and to sit last.

She held the lasagna over my plate. “I’ve never seen you like this. You want your piece, baby? You hungry?”

“Hell yes.” I licked my lips and moved my plate closer to the piece hovering just out of reach.

“Then you’re going to tell me about her, yes? No information means no food.” She held the slice of lasagna to her nose and inhaled it. “Mm, it would be a shame for you to miss out on this meal.”

I sighed. Women—the root of the evil in this world. If pussy wasn’t so fucking perfect I’d swear off them for eternity.

“Fine, Ma. I’ll tell you about her after we eat. Can I please have a piece now?”

“Sure, baby. You can help me wash the dishes and tell me all about her.”

Fuck. “You’re an asshole, Iz.” Throwing me under the bus with Dean? Still seeing him?

“Bella, you better not still be seeing that man. He’s nothing but trouble,” my mother said.

Iz glared at me across the table. Served her little gossipy ass right for airing my shit at the dinner table.

The conversation turned to sports and football, as it always did on Sunday. My grilling was soon forgotten as my brothers and Dad stuffed their faces and rubbed their stomachs. I finished my lasagna, wiping my plate clean with a piece of garlic bread, before picking up my phone again.

Suzy: WTF. I teach math—no clue what an interrogative is. Hello—I don’t get your angle.

Me: At the end of my linear path I have a point for you.

Did that make sense or did I just make a complete ass of myself? Fuck. This girl had me all fucked up. My parents always wanted their children to “settle down” and make babies, but I’d always been more interested in perfecting my skills and not wanting to get tied down, at least not after Joni. We didn’t marry young and follow their path in life, and I thought my parents were secretly proud of us for waiting. They were happily married and have been for over forty years—they tied the knot right out of high school. Times were different.

Suzy: Oooh, you know just the right things to say to a girl.

Me: Tuesday night = (dinner) + my linear path + your diameter

“Joey, grab your plate. We have a date with a sink and some dishes,” Ma said from behind me. I looked up at her and saw her smiling and reading over my shoulder. Fuck.

Suzy: No can do—grad classes. I’ll take a rain check.

I turned off my screen and placed it in my pocket. Nothing was secret or sacred in this fucking house.

“Everybody bring your plates in the kitchen. Come on. Clear off the table,” Ma said. The room filled with grumbles, but we all knew the drill. Thirty years later we didn’t need to be told what our roles were in this family. My father was the figurehead, my mother told everyone what to do, and we did as told without giving lip.

Ma waited for me by the sink as I set my plate on the counter. “Did you find someone?” She was beaming.

“I just met her, Ma,” I shooed her to the side so I could start tackling the dishes.

She threw the dishrag over her shoulder and eyed me. “Baby, the heart knows what the heart wants. Your sister told me you’ve been acting differently. It’s written all over your face. Sometimes fate steps in and throws you off the course we’ve set in life.”

“Don’t go crocheting baby blankets yet, Ma.”

She placed her hand on my shoulder as I scrubbed and avoided eye contact. “Joseph, I know the man you are. I know you’re guarded with your heart after Joni, but you have to open again sometime. You need to find someone to trust in life. Is this girl worthy of that trust? Is she worth the risk?”

“Ma, I barely know the chick.”

“Tsk, tsk. Someone doth protest too much.” She kissed my cheek, ruffling my hair. That shit made me crazy, but with my hands full of soap I had no other option but to let her do as she wished.

“I can see you’re not going to stop. She seems like a good person. She’s different, Ma. She seems genuine, but I’m not rushing into anything.”

“What about her? Is she madly in love with my baby boy?”

“Ma.” I should hate her calling me her baby boy, but my mother could call me anything in the world. I adored the woman. “She isn’t jumping on the Joey train. I don’t think she really wants to see me.”

“What? Why not?” She leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. “You’re perfect.”

“That’s ’cause I’m your kid. I’m hardly perfect, Ma.” I cleaned the last dish and placed it in the rack to dry. “You don’t really know everything about me, no matter what you think.”

“I know more than you think, sweetheart. Iz has loose lips, you know.” I could beat my little sister’s ass. I’m sure she doesn’t tell my ma about all her love affairs. “I know you’re quite the ladies’ man. I’m not judging you, Joey. You never bring any girls around, but I know you.”

Fucking Iz. “When and if I find the one, Ma, you’ll be the first to know.” I kissed her cheek, and her radiant smile lit up the room. “Suzy sees me as a tattoo artist that rides a motorcycle and hangs out in shithole bars. I don’t exactly rank up there on her boyfriend material checklist.”

“I kinda like this girl already.” She giggled. I loved hearing the sound of her laughter. “She doesn’t know everything about you and our family?” She raised her eyebrow.

“No, I don’t tell anyone about us, Ma.”

“Checklists are made to be changed. She needs to know the Joey I do. Are you going to ask her out? Makes her yours?”

“That’s what I was trying to do at the table, but she has class.”

“Ah, a smart girl too. Joey, don’t ask a girl out through text message. That’s what’s wrong with you kids today. She needs to hear your voice when you ask. Texting is too impersonal, and I’ll never understand it. Call the girl.”

“I will. I’ll call her later. Happy?”

My ma wrapped her arms around me and said, “Very.”