CHAPTER SEVEN
CHANNING
Amber taking off her bra was definitely…interesting. It made me realize what shaky ground I was on because it was a full-on struggle not to make my gawking obvious for the rest of the night. She was so goddamn sexy without even trying to be. I’d always thought so, but I’d never really gotten to see that wild side of her until tonight. Of course, knowing what she’d told Gentleman Nine about me—knowing she wanted me—made my inner conflict worse.
I’d taken it too far with that “let’s pretend” game, too. It felt too real. I was playing off of our attraction to each other and experiencing actual chemistry with her. My strong reaction to her saying she’d come home with me was a little much. It’s not like I hadn’t picked up countless women in that exact same manner. But I couldn’t help feeling protective because her gullible response reminded me about the whole Gentleman Nine situation and how vulnerable she was.
It truly was my intention to try to hook her up with someone decent if the opportunity presented itself at the bar tonight. But the more time we spent there talking, drinking, and reminiscing, the more I hoped no prospects came along. I was enjoying having her to myself. But that was wrong, because I really did want what was best for her. And that didn’t include me. And Gentleman Nine most definitely wasn’t what was best for her.
I’d been relieved that she hadn’t contacted “him” again all week. That made me hopeful that she decided to nix the idea of seeing him and had come to the correct conclusion that it wasn’t the right move.
As I sat up in bed unable to sleep, I decided to check the account I’d created just in case there was anything new.
My stomach dropped when I noticed a new message from Amber that came in about fifteen minutes ago. She must have just sent it from her room.
I braced myself and opened it.
Dear G9,
It’s been a few days, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure if I was going to ever contact you again. I was leaning toward no. But as much as I’ve tried to distract myself, I can’t seem to let the idea of this go, even though it’s literally the craziest thing I’ve ever done. So, I’m thinking I’d like to move forward with a meetup. What’s the next step?
—Amber
My pulse raced.
Shit.
I needed to either not respond ever again or come up with something that would get my ass out of this situation. There was also the burning need to know the reason behind her sudden push to move forward. If anything, I’d hoped that my words of warning about impulsivity tonight would have helped steer her away from the idea of paying some man to fuck her. Clearly, that wasn’t the case.
Angry and perplexed, it took me several minutes to figure out what to say, and I ultimately came up with something short and sweet that would put the ball back in her court.
Hey Amber,
I didn’t think I was going to hear back from you. What changed your mind?
—G9
Hoping she didn’t decide to fall asleep, I waited for the next message to come in.
Hi G9,
Thank you for the quick response. I just came in from a night out with my friend—the one I told you about. He was hoping to serve as my wingman tonight. But no one worthy of his efforts ever showed. We still had a really great time. Well, I already told you about my attraction to him. We’d done this roleplay thing where he pretended to be picking me up in the bar so that I could practice my dating skills. We were flirting or pretending to, and his body was close. Anyway, I came home feeling very aroused. Also, I might be a little drunk. I don’t want to wait months or years to satisfy the sexual need I’m feeling. So, I’m taking matters into my own hands. Or maybe into yours. (That was bad.)
Let me know what’s next.
—Amber
Blood was pumping through my veins and rushing down to my cock. I just started writing the first thing that came to mind. This time the words were coming from a different place within me.
Amber,
It may not be my place to ask, but this man you live with…how do you know he doesn’t want you in the same way you want him? How do you know that he’s not the man for the job to satisfy you? Have you ever told him how you felt?
—G9
I knew one thing. I may not have been the best man to solve Amber’s little problem, but I was sure as fuck a better option than this dude she thought she was talking to.
A few minutes later, she responded.
G9,
No, I’ve never told him anything and I don’t plan to. I really care for him as a friend and wouldn’t ever want to ruin that. I think I mentioned to you before that he was my ex’s best friend for several years. We were all friends and have a long history. Yes, I’m very attracted to him, but I’m not looking to make my life more complicated right now. That’s why I came to you. I just need to satisfy this physical need I have. I’ve only been with one person my entire life, and it’s been a while since I’ve had sex.
I know the site said that photos are not provided, but do you have a picture of yourself you can send me?
—Amber
Fuck!
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I needed to end this, set a date to meet her, then figure it out and be done with this charade.
Amber,
I’m not able to send you a photo, but we can plan to meet a week from Saturday, early evening if you’d like. Say 4PM? I can book us a room at The Peabody Hotel. We can meet in the lounge first. If you’re having doubts at that time, you can walk away. I’ll completely understand. No fees charged.
—G9
How was I going to get out of this? Did I even want to? Should I come clean? Show up and confront her? Let her think he stood her up? I had no idea.
A new message popped up.
G9,
Thank you for agreeing to meet me at a public place. I really appreciate that. The truth is, I won’t know how I’ll feel until I get there, until I see you. I’m sorry if that sounds really superficial. Please bring the medical paperwork you promised.
That time sounds good. I can plan to be there.
—Amber
I had a week to figure this out. I typed.
Amber,
I completely understand. Let’s say 4PM at the lounge. I’ll be wearing a black polo shirt and will probably be seated in the corner. Otherwise, at the bar.
If you need to cancel, simply message me at this email address by 3PM. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume we’re still on.
—G9
A final response came through.
G9,
Thank you. I will see you then.
—Amber
I shut my laptop and let out a deep breath.
Amber…why?
A part of me really wished I could storm down the hall to her room and ask her what the fuck she was thinking in agreeing to meet him. The other part of me was fighting my body’s reaction to the idea that she was turned on tonight because of me. It wasn’t fair to take enjoyment out of that thought given that I’d basically stolen that information. It was never meant for me to know.
Then, an unsettling thought hit me. If I tell her the truth, what if she doesn’t understand that I was just trying to protect her? I could lose her friendship over this.
The clock ticking in my head was practically deafening.
My mouth was parched, so I decided to get up for a glass of water. I stopped short because I wasn’t expecting to see Amber in the kitchen. Clearly, she wasn’t expecting to see me either, because she was wearing nothing but boy short underwear and a thin tank top.
Fuck me.
“So much for sneaking a quick drink of water,” Amber said.
She covered her chest with her arms, but it was too late. I’d already seen her breasts in their entirety through the thin white fabric, with their piercing nipples and tear drop shape.
I wished I hadn’t.
For the first time that I could remember in my life, I’d lost my words in front of a woman. Pointing my thumb behind me, I stammered, “I can…uh…I can come back.”
Returning to my room with my one-eyed trouser snake, I wiped the sweat off my forehead. She’d been messaging me—G9—half-naked. My rigid cock was sticking straight up in the air. I was a lost cause.
Then, a funny thought hit me. For some reason, this night reminded me of something from the animated movie, The Secret Life of Pets.
I’m Tiberius.
Holy shit. I’m Tiberius!
I started laughing to myself.
A date had dragged me to see that movie once. In the film, there was this sweet, little white Pomeranian named Gidget who entrusted the help of a red-tailed hawk—Tiberius—to help her find her friend, the Jack Russell Terrier who’d gone missing. The entire time, the hawk struggled with whether to help her—or eat her.
Yup. I was Tiberius and Amber was Gidget.
***
The next evening after work, I came home to a rude awakening.
Upon entering, the sight of a man sitting in the living room took me by surprise. My heart sank because my first thought was that I’d interrupted some kind of hook-up.
He didn’t see me come in, didn’t even flinch when I opened the door. His eyes were fixated on the television instead.
Kitty was weaving in and out of my legs as I stood frozen, observing this man who was making himself at home in the living room.
Was I about to interrupt something?
Amber brought a man back here?
My stomach churned, thinking that maybe she was freshening up, readying herself for something sordid with this guy.
Since he hadn’t noticed me yet, I continued to stand there, sizing him up. He looked about mid-twenties, pretty good-looking, although he couldn’t dress for shit. He was wearing a vintage Fat Albert t-shirt. What the fuck? Where the hell did she find this dude? And where was Amber?
Swallowing my pride, I took a few steps forward before I threw my keys down on the table. “Where’s Amber?”
Turning his attention away from the television, he finally looked at me. But he didn’t say anything, didn’t answer me.
What kind of game was this guy trying to play?
I spoke louder, “Excuse me. Who are you?”
Nothing. Not a fucking word. Cracking my knuckles, I prepared to knock him out if necessary.
“Dude. Is there a reason you’re not answering my question?”
The asshole not only continued to give me the silent treatment, but he then turned his attention away from me again and back to the television.
My mouth hung open. And what was he watching? The Wiggles?
What the fuck!
Approaching him, I leaned my face into his, “Who are you?”
The next thing I knew, his two hands landed on my head, pushing me into his face so fast that I had no time to react. His nose was buried in my hair as he pulled on it. It was like he was…sniffing me for dear life. He was. He was sniffing my hair.
Barely unable to break free of what felt like a super human grasp, I managed to pull myself away just as Amber entered the room.
“I see you’ve met Milo,” she casually said.
“Who the hell is he?”
She was laughing, and at that same moment, realization struck.
Oh.
Ohhh.
Now, I felt like an idiot. A massive fucking dumbass. This wasn’t her date. It was her client, the special needs adult she takes care of at night. She’d never brought him here, so I never suspected it was him. Everything made total sense now.
Rather than answer my question, Amber seemed to understand that I had figured it out. She looked utterly amused as she took a seat on the couch then wrapped her arm around him.
“Milo, this is Channing. He has nice hair, doesn’t he? Did it smell good?”
He smiled and grunted.
“Yeah, I bet.” She laughed then looked at me. “Milo loves to smell hair. It’s his favorite thing to do. And if you’re fresh meat like yourself, you’re gonna get extra special attention.”
I nodded then addressed him, “Sorry, man, for overreacting. I didn’t know.” I looked at Amber. “Can he understand me?”
She got up and nudged her head for me to follow her before leading me over to the kitchen.
Whispering, she said, “Sorry, I just didn’t want to talk about him in front of him.”
“Yeah, of course.”
“I’m not sure the extent to which he can understand something like an apology, actually. He can typically understand concrete things. He can request very simply but can’t converse or talk about feelings, stuff like that. But just because it doesn’t come out verbally, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand. There’s still a lot even I don’t comprehend.”
“So, what does he…have?”
“He has autism. He lives in a group home with other adults who have varying needs. But as you know, I take him out a few nights a week. I normally don’t bring him back here, but I ended up having to use the bathroom while we were out. Since we weren’t too far away, I figured I’d just come home. He loves The Wiggles, so I knew if I put that on, it would buy me some time to get a few things done around the house. Now, I don’t think he’ll ever want to leave.”
“God, I thought I was interrupting something, thought you’d brought a man back here. He looks so…I don’t want to say normal, but…what’s the right word…typical?”
“Typical would be what I would say, yes. That’s the thing about autism. You can’t necessarily tell by looking at someone that there are any developmental issues. It’s only when you try to interact with them that you realize it. In Milo’s case, he’s child-like, even though he’s close to our age.”
“Wow. That’s perplexing and fascinating at the same time.”
When we returned to the living room, Milo was no longer paying attention to the television. In fact, he had turned it off altogether. Instead, he was playing around on an iPad.
“What’s he watching?” I asked.
“He likes to watch YouTube.”
I sat down next to him on the couch and leaned in. He was looking at clips from the show Archer. It was some kind of montage.
“That’s a cool show,” I said.
Apparently, my giving him that little bit of attention served as his cue to wrap his arm around me, once again pulling my head into his face. His nose felt like a vacuum atop my head. Closing my eyes, I let him do it, as uncomfortable as it was allowing a grown man my age to cradle my head and sniff me.
Amber chuckled. “He’s definitely motivation to keep my hair smelling fresh and clean, but I feel like I’m not competition for you at this very moment.”
When he finally let me go, I noticed that he was looking at the iPad screen then back at me. He kept doing this over and over.
“What’s up?” I asked him.
Amber chimed in, “I think he thinks you’re Archer. He’s done this to me and other people.”
“That’s why he’s watching it? He thinks I’m the character?”
“It’s possible. I’ve seen him do that before.”
“Who does he think you are?”
“Daria from that old MTV show.”
That cracked me up. “It must be the bangs.”
“Anyway, we were about to head back out to get some dinner,” she said. “Would you want to join us?”
Watching Amber with Milo was actually really fascinating. It was an entirely different side of her life that I’d never gotten to see. So, I took her up on her offer.
Amber held onto his hand as the three of us walked down the street.
“Do you always hold his hand like that?”
“I don’t have to, but it gives me a feeling of security. He’s been known to suddenly run if he gets excited about something. It’s not worth the risk. And he doesn’t mind holding my hand.”
People must have thought I was the third wheel as we strolled through Quincy Market, one of Boston’s biggest tourist attractions. Milo was twice the size of Amber. No one would have ever guessed by looking at them that her number one job was to keep him safe.
After we stopped for Greek food—Milo’s favorite—we browsed through some of the vendor carts surrounding Faneuil Hall. Milo pulled Amber toward a woman who was selling hats and sunglasses.
She was trying to get him to go in another direction. “Milo, no. We can’t go here.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“He likes to snap sunglasses in half. That’s why I can only wear dollar store ones around him.”
When he had his mind set on something, it was apparently hard to distract him toward anything else. Amber couldn’t pull him away from the cart. Honestly, I didn’t know how she took him out by herself because she didn’t have the strength to control him on her own.
I intervened, holding onto his shoulders. “What do you want, Milo?”
He then grabbed a pair of the sunglasses, placing them on my face before taking one of the large, pink hats and putting it on my head. He then let out one of his big, grunty laughs.
“I’m sorry,” Amber said to the saleswoman.
“No problem. He reminds me of my nephew,” she said.
We were all laughing at that point.
Apparently, Milo had gotten his fill after emasculating me. He began to just walk away. Amber chased after him as I placed the items back on the cart.
When I caught up to them, she looked frazzled then said, “I normally wouldn’t take him some place like this with a lot of knick knacks without a second set of hands. I’m glad you were here.”
“I don’t know how you do it.”
“You mean…take him out?”
“Yeah, by yourself.”
“Well, he has to learn. He has to learn to live in this world. If that means some embarrassing moments and what sometimes looks like male-female wrestling to the outside observer, then so be it. But if people don’t like it, that’s their problem, not mine.”
I really admired her for that attitude and honestly, Milo was one damn lucky fucker.
We ended up getting ice cream from Ben & Jerry’s. Milo got a massive cone of the strawberry flavor while Amber and I each got small cups of mint chocolate chip. We sat down on a couple of benches in the marketplace. It was now evening, and the sun had gone down over the popular city attraction.
Amber and Milo were across from me on their own bench when almost his entire dollop of ice cream fell off his sugar cone and onto Amber’s chest. Before she could even react, he faceplanted into her cleavage, licking up the entire dollop back into his mouth in one swoop. It had all happened so fast that Amber just sat there looking stunned. Ice cream was dripping down into her shirt.
And no, I didn’t offer to finish off the job.
I was too busy busting out into laughter, and then she followed suit.
“That was a good one, Milo,” I shouted from across the way. “I think I’m gonna use that move someday.”
When he also started laughing, I couldn’t help wondering if maybe Mr. Milo was smoother than we’d given him credit for.
***
That night, after we dropped Milo back at his house, Amber and I were hanging out in the living room. She was keeping a good few feet away from me on the opposite end of the couch.
“I can’t believe you do that several nights a week. You’ve talked about it, but I had no idea it was so much work.”
“I can handle it.”
“I’m really proud of you. Not that many people can do what you do. It takes a certain personality and a shitload of patience.”
She blushed a little from the compliment. It was fucking adorable.
“Well, it makes me feel good that I can help him have as normal a life as possible. He won’t have independence like you and me. He won’t drive or be able to live on his own, but it’s all about helping him get to his personal best, whether that’s just knowing how to cross the street or getting him to practice waiting in a store line.”
“Shit, woman. No wonder you’re exhausted when you come home.”
“It’s true. Before you moved in, I used to sometimes just crash and go right to sleep.”
“Ah…so, I’ve been disrupting your rest.”
“Yes. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Tonight had been a really great distraction from not having to worry about the dilemma of this upcoming Saturday. I still didn’t know what I was going to do. I decided to test the waters to see if by some chance, she’d give me a clue of what was going on in her mind.
“I was thinking of going to see that new movie about shark-infested waters at the IMAX theater Saturday night, like an early evening show. I don’t really feel like going alone. You think you’d want to join?”
As expected, she looked flustered. “Um…I can’t Saturday.”
I swallowed. “You have plans?”
“Yes. I’m…meeting a friend for drinks.”
“Alright. Maybe another time, then.”
“Yeah.”
God, my stomach hurt. Her cheeks were turning red. I knew she didn’t like having to lie to me. I was a prick for putting her into this situation. But I wasn’t ready to confront her about it now. It had been a long night, and I really needed to think about how I was going to handle it.
We were silent for a while as we each pretended to be paying attention to Jimmy Fallon. She looked guilty, and I hated that I knew exactly why.
“I’m gonna turn in,” she finally said as she stood up. “Thanks again for hanging out with us tonight.”
“My pleasure. I’d love to do it again. If you ever want to take him somewhere that warrants an extra set of hands, I’m your man.”
“Thanks. I’ll try to plan something like that before you leave.”
Before I leave. Fuck, that’s right. I’d be gone by Christmas. For some reason, it felt like I was supposed to be here longer.
“Sweet dreams, Amber.”
***
Back in my room, once again sleep was evading me.
Kitty was kneading on my abs, her little claws digging into me. Under my t-shirt, it looked like I was into kinky sex with scratches all over my skin. The wrong kind of pussy had done a number on me—the kind that left white hairs all over my bed, too.
I spoke to her in a low, soothing voice, “Kitty, what am I gonna do with you? You gonna come back to Chicago with me? Then, what? Huh? I’m stuck with you? Like for twenty years? You know, we really should’ve discussed this before you got attached. I don’t do commitment.”
“Meow.”
“You’re telling me I don’t have a choice, huh? Okay, you convinced me. I think I’ll keep you.”
This was the nightly ritual. She’d listen to me speak to her ever so quietly, and I’d watch her eyes slowly close as she fell asleep to the sound of my voice. Thank God no one was witnessing this, or I definitely would have had to hand over my man card.
I was just about to turn the sound on my phone off when I noticed a new text had come in.
At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. But no.
It was her.
Emily: Saw on your Instagram that you were at Quincy Market today, and I haven’t been able to concentrate on anything else. I can’t believe you’re in Boston. Are you here on business? I’ve been meaning to contact you for a while now. I just haven’t had the guts and I’ve felt ashamed. I’m no longer with Tim. Long story short, I haven’t stopped thinking about you and realized soon after I went back to him that I’d made a big mistake. Do you think you could meet me at the Common tomorrow? There’s a lot I need to say to you. I completely understand if you’d rather not. I figured it was worth a shot to ask. I really miss you and don’t want to miss any opportunity to see you while you’re here.