24

sebastian

 

It only took a few weeks for me to know exactly why you should never sleep with the same woman twice. I’d had my suspicions after the first couple of times with Tabby, but over the span of those three weeks, I now knew for certain.

I was addicted.

I’d considered on multiple occasions that it was just her way, being a witch and all, but a group text with my buddies, Devin, Ty, and Chad, had proven that it was a widespread epidemic:

 

Me: What are you fuckers up to?

Devin: Changing Livy’s diaper for the third time in the past two hours. Prunes = bad idea. Never again.

Ty: Could’ve told you that.

Ty: Carrie’s got a dance recital today.

Me: Precious. Pics of you in a tutu please.

Chad: I’m spending the day with my girl’s parents. Kill me.

Devin: You put a ring on that yet?

Chad: No.

Me: Gonna drop the Beyoncé lyrics in 3 … 2 … 1 …

Chad: Fuck off.

Me: Anybody gonna ask me what I’m doing? Or have we forgotten our manners?

Chad: We don’t need to ask.

Devin: We all know you’re off to fuck the baby momma’s sister again.

Ty: Or cook her dinner, lol.

Me: Guys, seriously. It’s bad. I’m telling myself I’m over here to help Greyson pack for staying at my place for a couple of months, but all I can think about is how many times I can get her off. Something’s wrong with me.

Ty: Welcome to the world of monogamy, bro.

Me: lol, we’re just fucking, dude.

Devin: And cooking dinner, and going out together …

Me: With Greyson!

Devin: Oh, sure. Whatever you gotta tell yourself.

  Chad: So … when are you gonna put a ring on           THAT?

 

I tossed my phone against the dashboard. I wasn’t going to waste my red light on a question like that. Fucking Chad. He’d been with the same woman for six years and he had the audacity to ask that of me after sleeping with one for three weeks?

I had told Greyson that I would pick him up from school on his last day, and then the two of us were going to head to Mrs. Worthington’s house for dinner and chinchilla snuggles with Tabby and Jane. I pulled up to the curb and got out to lean against the side of the Range Rover, waiting for school to be let out, when a soccer mommy waiting at a mini-van caught sight of me.

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” she casually mentioned, walking over to me with a friendly smile planted firmly to her face, but there was no mistaking her wandering eyes.

“Because I’ve never been here before,” I replied with the obvious.

“Well, are you a father?”

I was still getting used to saying it aloud, but I nodded without hesitation. “I am. Otherwise it’d be pretty creepy for a middle-aged guy to be hanging around outside of a school, wouldn’t it?”

She laughed with a blend of flirtation and discomfort. “Yeah, I would say so.” She extended her waif of a hand. “Cindy Schaffer.”

We shook. “Sebastian Moore.”

“Who do you belong to?” Cindy asked, pulling her hand back and flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Belong to?” I scoffed.

I was about to run through a speech about being an independent man and not belonging to anybody, when she giggled with obvious intent and laid her hand against my arm.

“I mean, who is your child?”

My eyes dropped to that lingering hand. Instinct told me to check for a wedding ring, only to find none. Pulling my eyes back to her face, I quickly made an assessment: single divorced mommy looking for a thrill.

“Greyson Clarke.”

The hand still hadn’t left my arm, as a cocktail of sympathy and shock flickered over her gaze. “You’re … Greyson’s father? I wasn’t aware—"

“Yes,” I replied shortly, finding myself exceedingly aggravated with her hand on my arm and those fingers, now beginning to stroke lightly. Nobody but Tabby had touched me in over three weeks and I wasn’t liking it.

“I’m … I’m so sorry about his mother.” A judgmental note struck that word: mother. “I’m Jason’s mom. He’s friends with Greyson.”

I remembered that name. Jason. “Wait a second,” I hardened, brushing her hand off my arm, “Jason? His dad was screwing Sam, wasn’t he?”

My brash question startled her. She looked around us for obvious onlookers, as she gave her head a tiny shake. “Um, well, they had seen each other a few times—”

“Right. That’s what I thought,” I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest. “Cindy, do me a favor, okay, and tell Jason’s dad, that if Jason ever calls Greyson an orphan or his mother a whore ever again, I’m going to personally pay him a visit. Can you do that for me?”

The doors to the school opened up and a flood of students spilled out onto the curb. I should’ve been watching for Greyson, but I was too busy glaring at Cindy. Her mouth opened and shut repeatedly, like a damn guppy, before she turned without another word and hurried back to her mini-van. I spotted Greyson, who had already seen me talking to her, as he walked over.

“Hey,” he mumbled, glancing toward her. “Why were you talking to Jason’s mom?”

“Just introducing myself.” And letting her know you’re not a fucking orphan. “How was the last day of school?”

Relief curved his lips as he nodded. “Good.”

“Good,” I repeated, gripping his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go.”

 

***

 

Keeping our special relationship under wraps was becoming exceedingly more difficult as time went on. My instincts told me to greet her with a kiss, talk with my arms wrapped around her waist, hold her hand when she was frustrated with work, and yet, I couldn’t do a damn thing. Not with Greyson around.

The kid wasn’t an idiot. I did wonder occasionally if he ever picked up on it, perhaps when Tabby’s eyes met mine and the lingering glances did the talking.

“Sebastian, if you ever decide to stop drumming, you really should do something with your cooking,” Jane complimented, treating herself to another chicken kebab.

“You could have a cooking show,” Tabby chimed in, plucking a slice of grilled zucchini from the skewer. “You could even incorporate music with food.”

I leaned back in the patio chair, tipping my head to face the evening sky. “Beats and Eats.”

Greyson, with his mouth full, pointed excitedly over the table. “Eat the Beat!”

“I like it,” Tabby commented, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth and nodding. “We should make this happen. When are you retiring?” She reached over to nudge her knuckles against my arm. Every touch from her was an electric fire, straight to my heart.

“From music?” I raised my brows incredulously. “Thumbelina, that ain’t ever happening, but if one of you wants to follow me around in the kitchen with a camera, we could get something going on YouTube.”

“That’s even better!” Greyson shouted. “Then you don’t need to follow any TV rules. You could curse all you wanted and—”

“Oh, great. This idea just went to hell,” Tabby groused, shoving her chair out from the table. “I need to give Roman a call.”

Oh God, that fucking guy. “Why?” I found myself asking. “We’re eating.”

Turning to face me, her eyes squinted and her jaw ticked. She replied, “Because I told him that I’d call now. I’ll be right back.”

“It can’t wait until after?” I challenged, pressing my lips into a firm line. “Is it really more important than the four of us having dinner together right now? I mean, I don’t know, but I’d think you’d want to have dinner with us before we don’t see you for a week. Maybe that’s just me though.” I shrugged casually, and reached out to grab another kebab from the center of the table.

Tabby shoved her chair back in. “Fine,” she snapped, continuing to stare at me. “I’ll call him after.”

Jane laid a hand over Tabby’s. “Family always comes first, honey. Work comes second.”

“See?” I pointed my skewer across the table. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

As we were cleaning up after dinner, Tabby stood in the doorway of Jane’s magnificent kitchen and crooked a finger, beckoning for me to follow her. “I need to talk to you,” she demanded in a voice that told me I was either about to receive a serious beating, or the most furious sex of my life.

“What’s up, dearest?” I asked, a sarcastic bite to my tone as I followed her into Sandy’s chinchilla room.

Tabby closed the door behind her, then prodded a firm finger into my chest. “Listen to me right now, Sebastian. You have no right to dictate when I should or should not work. I am trying very hard here to sell two houses, one of which is several hours away. So, when Roman, who is a very busy man, for your information, wants to talk to me at a specific time, I need to talk to him then. Do you understand me?”

Standing tall and brushing her finger from my chest, I nodded. “Yeah, I understand you. You’re saying that your job, Roman, is more important than celebrating the fact that your nephew managed to get through this schoolyear, despite everything he’s been through.”

Her mouth dropped open, anger singeing the embers in her eyes. “How dare—”

“Wait.” I held up a finger. “I just remembered something else,” and she sighed, gesturing for me to get on with it. “You’re about to have two months all to yourself. Two months to sell houses, call Roman, meet with Roman, do whatever you want to do with Roman—”

“What the fuck is your problem with Roman?” Tabby interjected, pinching her brows and tightening her lips. “Any time I mention him, you get like this.”

“I don’t have a problem with Roman,” I insisted, and I think I almost believed it. “But I do have a problem with you allowing him to cross over into the time you should be devoting to your family. I don’t care how fucking busy or important his life is. Nothing should be more important to you than that kid and knowing that, by some fucking miracle, he still passed this year.”

I struck against something inside of her with that. I knew it by the way she laid a hand against her chest, before covering her mouth with the other. I thought maybe I had pushed it too hard. After all, Greyson had suffered the same heartache she had. They were both coping and dealing with the losses, and who the fuck was I to criticize the way she handled it from her end? Hell, maybe work was how she coped.

Noticing the tears clinging to her lashes, I shook my head, ashamed I’d been such a thoughtless asshole. “Tabby … Fuck, I’m sorry. That was a dickish—”

“No,” she shook her head furiously. “No. You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”

I shuffled my feet against the dirty chinchilla floor. “Can I, uh, get that in writing?”

“Shut up,” she groaned, blinking the tears away. “All I’ve had as a distraction has been work. I know I haven’t been the most attentive to Greyson. But, …” She emitted an aggravated huff, shaking her head. “You know, I know I haven’t said it, but, thank you.”

“You’re thanking me for pissing you off?” I tipped my head, eyeing her questioningly.

“No, idiot,” she shook her head, stepping toward me and wrapping her arms around my waist. “I’m thanking you for helping us so much.”

This was my favorite. When she hugged me and pressed her cheek to my chest, and I quickly wrapped my arms around her shoulders, kissing her hair and pulling in the scent of flowers and spring. “How the hell have I been helping you, other than bestowing upon you the gift of my magic dick?”

She laughed gently. “I don’t even know sometimes. Things just feel better when you’re around, I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I told you,” I chuckled, resting my chin against the crown of her head, “it’s my magic dick.”

With a groan, she pulled away from my embrace, encouraging a swelling ache to flood my chest. I caught a twitch at the corner of her mouth and asked, “What?” What was she smiling about, what was so funny, what what what.

“No, it’s stupid,” she brushed it away. But then she bit her lip and tipped her eyes to the ceiling, giggling lightly.

“Come on, you can’t look like that and not tell me,” I laughed, reaching out to pull her against me. Just for a few seconds longer, before we had to go back to our land of make believe. “What were you gonna say?”

She squirmed and shoved against my chest before relenting with a touch of my lips against hers. A sigh lifted her body into mine, her fingers grasping my shirt, as she melted into my kiss. And just as quickly, she mumbled a protest and wriggled from my grasp.

“Not here,” she insisted, and with a weighted sigh, I nodded. “But what I was going to say is,” her hand lowered to cup my groin for all of a nanosecond, “a witch needs her magic wand.”

And she released me, walking backward toward the door and biting her lip, until she realized I wasn’t following. “Aren’t you coming?”

Squeezing my eyes shut and thinking about anything but her on my dick, I grumbled, “Trying not to.”

In a fit of stifled giggles, she left the room, leaving me to allow the blood to travel north. Moments later, Jane came in carrying Sandy, and she smiled broadly at me.

“What are you doing in here?” she asked, passing Sandy to my open hands.

“Oh, Tabby and I were just talking. Thought I’d hang out in here for a few minutes and pray to the chinchilla gods that you’d be done with him soon.” I lifted the little guy to my face and grinned.

“You can just ask to hold him whenever you want, you know,” she said, opening his cage and filling his food dish.

“But then I’d be getting in the middle of your business. I don’t know what you guys talk about. It might be important.” I scratched Sandy between the ears and ran my finger down his nose. “That’d be rude and then he and I wouldn’t be buddies anymore.”

“Oh, I don’t think you’d have to worry about that,” she chuckled, unhooking his water bottle from the side of the cage. Her sparkling blue eyes made a quick glance at me before returning to the job at hand. “So, did Tabitha tell you Roman’s coming by in a couple weeks?” she asked, twisting off the cap and reaching for a bottle of distilled water.

“Here? To see the house?” I stroked my hands delicately over Sandy’s back.

“Mm-hmm,” she confirmed with a slow bob of her head. “Have you had the pleasure of making his acquaintance yet?”

“Can’t say that I have,” I grumbled, trying so desperately not to let on that my nerves were ticking with anxiety. “Have you?”

Pursing her lips, she filled the bottle and shook her head. “Nope, can’t say that I have. Should be interesting to see what Tom thinks of him.”

Tom was Jane’s late husband, and she was convinced that he would only allow the person who deserved the house to remain there.

“Hm,” I hummed with intrigue. “I’d sure like to see if Tom sends Roman out on his rich ass in a whirlwind of poltergeist fury.”

With a look of sparking mischief, Jane twisted the top back onto Sandy’s water bottle and grinned. “What are you doing in a couple of weekends?”

 

***

 

“Okay, so,” I opened the door and flipped on the light switch, “if there’s anything you wanna change, that’s cool. Just let me know.”

When I’d bought the house years ago, it’d been advertised as a four-bedroom home. One of those bedrooms was now mine, another was reserved for the rare guest, and the other two had been used for a drum studio and storage. But after Greyson had started hanging out in the basement den, I thought it was time to move the storage to the attic and give the basement bedroom to him.

Mom and Tabby helped pick out the bedding, although both of them had insisted he didn’t need a Queen-sized bed. But come on, the kid was sleeping on a Twin at Tabby’s place. I could at least give him some space to toss and turn on at mine.

“You mean I’m not sleeping on the couch anymore?” he joked, walking into the room, wearing a grin I felt in my heart.

“Nah. I figured it was time to upgrade your accommodations,” I laughed, crossing the room to the closet and opening the door. “You’ve got room for your clothes and shoes, and if you need anything, we can go shopping, or uh, I can give you my credit card and you can order some stuff online. Whatever.”

Greyson shook his head with disbelief. “You would just give me your credit card to do whatever I wanted?”

“Uh, you act like I wouldn’t be monitoring the fuck out of that shit. If I saw any charges coming in from Bangin’ Babes or whatever-the-fuck dot com, you can bet your ass I’d get a taste for what it’s like to ground someone,” I challenged, daring him with a smirk.

“Why would I pay for porn when I can just get it for free?”

The youth of today really have no idea how good they have it. When I was his age, I was stealing my sisters’ Cosmo magazines.

“That’s my boy,” I clapped him on the shoulder, and headed toward the door. “I’m fucking tired and don’t wanna cook, so I’ll just order a pizza tonight, okay? You can get unpacked and whatever.”

He nodded. “Yeah, pizza’s good.”

“Damn right, it is. And it’s way better than that upstate pizza you’ve been suffering with,” I bobbed my head. “Oh, and by the way, I didn’t bring your drums down here ‘cause I’d have to soundproof the room. If you really want to practice in here, that’s fine, we can do that, but—”

Greyson shrugged. “Nah, it’s okay.”

“You’re sure?” I tipped my chin to my chest, watching his reactions. “I don’t wanna—”

“No,” he shook his head, “I wanna be able to play with you.”

The admission was a Cupid’s arrow to my chest, and I fought my smile, not wanting to put him on the spot or make the moment awkward. It was a struggle, but I nodded and kept my lips from grinning.

“Okay, cool,” and I left to order the pizza and revel in being wanted. By my kid.