Chapter 7

Having no idea what came over him, Gael bundled the girl with the rainbow hair into the back seat of the SUV Beth arranged. As he slowly maneuvered the vehicle through the falling snow on the icy roadway, he cursed under his breath.

“What the fu …!” he clenched his jaw. “What the hell am I doing?”

Glancing at the rearview mirror, he chanced a look at her. She was sound asleep on the back seat, knocked out from having an entire bottle of flu medicine.

The dashboard showed the time and 9:41 p.m. He hoped that his father would be home and not in some bar bingeing his sorrows away. The last time they met, his young wife had left him for a richer man. That’s why he resigned himself to bachelorhood for life. No woman would get his hooks into him the way that girl had wormed her way into his father’s life.

His mother was no different. Not only did she cheat on his father, but she left him when the going got tough to marry a Russian oligarch. No, he would never subject himself to that kind of bondage only to have his family torn apart the way his did. No child of his would live the kind of life he had.

“Hmm,” a murmur came from the back seat before an eruption of groans.

Ten miles later, he was pulling into his father’s driveway on Central Avenue. As he pulled the vehicle to a stop, he stared through the windscreen at the two-story house. Lights were on, and music came from inside. There were no other cars in the drive; therefore, he doubted there was a party. Still he hesitated.

Another groan from behind broke through the silence and his thoughts. He turned, touching her forehead, noting that the fever hadn’t reduced. He needed to get her inside where she could warm up, but he wasn’t keen on seeing his father.

Before he could make up his mind, the front door opened, and a man about six feet with graying brown hair stepped onto the porch. Dressed in a bright sweater with Christmas patterns, he craned his neck to see.

“Who is there?” the man asked. “Show yourself, or I’ll call the police.”

That’s how Gael made up his mind. He could have just started the vehicle and gone back on the road, but he had nowhere else to return but the airport. The need to care for a complete stranger who’d been nothing but hostile to him won.

He opened the door and stepped from the vehicle. “It’s me, Dad.”

“Scooch?” the man asked, obvious surprise in his voice.

“Yes, Dad,” he replied.

Senior Matheson stepped from the porch and strolled down the drive, about twelve feet, to where the SUV stood. “I can’t believe it,” he breathed. “What are you waiting for? Come in out of the cold. Another storm is on its way.”

“I’m not alone,” he replied.

Mr. Matheson peered inside the car. “Bring her in. There’s plenty of room.”

Without a word, Gael opened the back passenger door while his father looked expectantly for his companion. He leaned in and scooped up the girl in his arms, kicking the door shut with his heel.

“Is she alright?”

“No, she’s got a fever, and she’s been sneezing and sniffling all day.”

Mr. Matheson stepped forward, beckoning him to come. He led him inside through the large living room, up the stairs, and down the passage. Three doors down, he pushed and switched on a light. The room was warm, with baby pink walls, pink floral curtains, and matching bed linen. Gael couldn’t help being amused that his friend would just hate the pinkness of it all.

His father closed the door softly, leaving him to tend to her. However, he had no clue what to do. He pulled off her boots and eased her from her coat. When he pulled the hat from her head, he winced at the hair.

Touching a hand to her forehead, he noted that her fever was still raging. He retrieved a washcloth from the bathroom, which he moistened under the tap with cold water. He then placed it on the forehead and waited a few minutes before wetting it again and repeating the process. After about fifteen minutes of this, he tucked her in, and then went back downstairs.

“You will sleep in your old bedroom, no?” his father asked as he passed through the living room. “Or stay with her, it doesn’t matter,” he added.

He kept moving toward the front door. “I’ll take my own bedroom.”

“I’m happy that you came home,” the man added.

Gael paused and turned. “Don’t be too happy. I only came because of her.” He jutted his head toward the stairs.

“I know. Still, you’re here, and you brought a girl home for the first time.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. She’s not a girl.”

“Huh?” Mr. Matheson’s baby soft blue eyes widened. “She’s a trans …?”

“No, she is a girl … hell.” The conversation was uncomfortable.

“Oh, you mean, she’s not your girlfriend?”

“Right,” he replied, turning away. “I’m going to get the bags.”

When he returned, his father was waiting at the bottom of the stairs looking sheepish. He came forward as Gael entered, seemingly with something on his mind.

“Scooch …”

“Don’t call me that.”

David Matheson nodded. “Okay, I won’t call you that. There’s something you need to know.”

“Honey?” a woman’s voice came from upstairs. “Do we have company?”

Gael raised his eyes as a woman clad in the same matching Christmas sweater as the man of the house, came hesitantly down the steps. When she saw Gael, she halted, her mouth gaped and eyes widening. His chest tightened upon seeing her, and he crunched his teeth together. How stupid was his father to take her back after she walked out?

“Gael?”

His stepmother, a woman three years older, came down and stood before him. His height towered her by about half a foot. She looked well, with her neatly brushed honey blonde hair and her expertly applied makeup. Then his mind flicked to his friend.

“Hello, Marla.” He nodded his greeting. “I’ll go check on her and take a well-needed shower. I’ll be down in a few.”

“Who?” Marla asked her husband.

“His friend. She isn’t feeling very well,” David replied as Gael moved away.

As he took the stairs, he shook his head. He was unable to fathom that the woman who had walked out on his father for another man was back. Was he the only one in his family to see the trend? If one is going to run around, don’t get married. He certainly wasn’t planning to.

He pushed the door to the bedroom and placed her luggage inside. It was the first time since meeting her that he was actually curious about her name. He couldn’t very well keep referring to her as ‘the girl.’ She was still asleep, so he closed the door softly and strode to his bedroom situated across the hall, placing his back on a chair against the wall.

Thankfully, the room had its own bath, and he stripped off his jacket, hung it in the closet before removing the rest of his clothes. Naked, he made his way into the bathroom, thinking of his ‘friend’ across the hall. What was her deal? Who was she?

His curiosity mounted as he adjusted the shower to his desired temperature. As the hot water sprayed his skin, the room steamed. His mind kept going back to her, recalling their first encounter. Absently, he picked up the shampoo and squirted some on his large hands, then lathered his muscled chest and abs.

As his hand brushed his cock, he recalled his brief encounter with the stewardess and the girl’s reaction to it. He soaped himself, all the while trying to figure her out. Then her lips flashed before him, her beautifully formed pink lips.

The thought startled him. But he was right. He had thought the same thing when he observed her sleeping on the plane. The events of the night and entire day played back in his mind until he saw her, and his heart skipped a beat.

It skipped a beat even now, as he thought of the way she felt in his arms when he picked her up. She’d mumbled incoherently, and at one point, wrapped her arms around his neck. He’d felt an unfamiliar sensation rush through him. He wanted to protect her. It had been strange, and he counted it down to her being a girl, and that she was ill.

Unsure of what brought it on, he looked down at his erect penis with a grunt. With some frustration, he turned the tap on cold and allowed the water to cool his body. Steam rose from his shoulders as his manhood slowly returned to normal.

“Now behave.” He chuckled, turning off the tap.

When he went back down, his father and wife were waiting in the living room. They stood expectantly as though they’d been waiting for his return. He waited for them to speak.

“I know what this looks like, but there are things you don’t know,” David said.

“Please, it’s none of my business,” he replied, holding a hand up.

Marla’s smile faded, but she managed to ask, “How is your friend?”

“What’s her name?” David asked.

“Actually, I don’t know her name.” Marla and David looked at each other, but they both said nothing. “We met at the airport in Santa Cruz. We aren’t exactly friends.” He noted their puzzled expressions and sought to allay their suspicions. “She got sick, and I couldn’t leave her alone in the airport, now could I?”

“Of course not, son,” David agreed. “We’re glad to have you both.”

Marla moved from her spot near her husband and came towards him, “Have you eaten. There’s plenty of food.”

“I’ll wait until she’s awake,” he found himself saying.

His words sounded strange to him. The feeling he was having was strange. His mind was constantly drawn to the room with the sleeping girl whose name he was yet to know. He wondered if her fever had broken or if she needed medical attention. What if him taking her through the snowstorm made everything worse?

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, heading to the stairs.

He took them two at a time and was pushing the door within seconds. Standing just inside the door, he allowed his eyes to adjust to the dimness.

“Where am I?” her voice came from the bed.

In three strides, he was beside the bed. “At my father’s house in Central Avenue.”

“You abducted me?” she asked. Her voice was soft, so he figured she was joking.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Thanks.”

“Are you hungry?”

She shook her head. “No appetite,” she said, followed by a sniffle. “Did I pass out?”

“You drank an entire bottle of flu medicine.”

A groan emitted from her. “I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t remember how long I’d had the last shot, so I kept drinking. I felt so ill.”

“You realize this is the first time in the last twenty-four hours we’ve had a civil conversation,” he remarked.

“That’s because I’m in your debt. As soon as I pay you back, we’ll resume our … sniffle … feud.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” He smiled.

“I’m serious. We have a bone to pick.” Her voice was completely nasal from being stuffy.

“Are you able to come down? You should try eating something. I’ll try to find some more medicine for you to get high on,” he said. “At least tell me your name. Wait, it doesn’t matter; I’ll just call you Unicorn.”

She sat up on the bed, her eyes glinting. “What?”

“I’ve been thinking it anyway, might as well just call you that openly.”

“Have it your way, Lucifer!”

“Isn’t that a bit over the top? I mean, you already know my name.”

She lay back on the pillow and turned her face away. “Who says I know your name?”

“You said it in your stupor a few hours ago, how much you hate me … remember?”

“I can’t recall.”

“Yeah, right. Let’s go down; you should try eating something,” he suggested.

Involuntarily, he placed a hand on her forehead to check her temperature. She flinched. The fever was greatly reduced, but she was still warmer than normal.

“Have you been touching me while I was passed out?”

He glared at her. “Don’t flatter yourself. All I did was check your temperature.”

“You’d better not have touched anywhere else,” she mumbled.

“Aren’t you being a little dramatic? There’s nothing there anyway.” His eyes dropped to her chest.

“At least they aren’t fake like the stewardess you screwed onboard,” she retorted.

Gael stood. “I see you’re much better.”

“I need to freshen up a bit,” she mumbled.

“The bathroom is the door to your left,” he said, pointing to the closed door near the closet. “I’ll give you half hour, and then I come to fetch you.”

“Okay,” she replied, easing from the bed.