Love, Always (21 page)

“Not what I want to hear, sweetie.”

“You’re the best sex ever.” I sigh with relief when he lets me go and quickly bolt to the bathroom where I barely make it to the toilet.

Adam

You’d think my cravings would be satisfied now that Dee and I are together, but you’d be wrong. Even when I’m with her, I need her. Her taste, the sweet smell of her breath on mine, the feel of her hands on my skin, the way she whispers my name.

I live in a permanent state of arousal, which is actually pretty okay, because we seem to do best when all our clothes are off anyway.

Leaving our clothes on leaves too much room for communication, and neither of us are ready to move in that direction. We’ll have to eventually. Maybe we can talk with our clothes off. That way neither of us would pay any real attention.

Dee tastes like home. She touches me where I ache, and when our lips meet, the longing grows, never fully satisfied. Her body, her breasts, her thighs hold my everlasting attention. Even now, I long to touch her again and discover more secret places she doesn’t yet know long for my attention.

When she lets out a breath and it hits my skin, it reaches into my heart and takes over. There are words of love that we share that cannot compare to what her sweet breath does to me. She is my light, the ever beating of my heart. So I answer her the only way she lets me. I pleasure her body until she is in a daze. Only then do I release into her.

I’ve never been one for primping, but this is my first date with Adam and, hell, maybe primping will help me quit dwelling on that little tidbit. My first date with Adam.

After heating the wax, I go to the bathroom and begin to wax my legs. For the first time ever. The first tear isn’t too painful, so I prepare another straight line on my leg and hold my breath as I rip the hairs from my legs.

I can do this. After both legs are hair-free, red and swollen, I look down at my hoo-hah area and decide I want her hairless as well.

I prop one leg up on the toilet and begin with the least visible area, just before my butt area. The wax has already cooled down, which I’m grateful for, because I don’t want it all sunburnt like my poor throbbing legs. I close my eyes and pull, practically passing out from the pain. Having only ripped off the half strip, I grit my teeth and pull the remainder of the strip off. I look at the strip, expecting to see Chewbacca staring back at me, but there’s nothing there. Not even the wax.

Shit.

I reach my trembling fingers down and feel the sticky wax between my legs. I rub the strip back over the wax, hoping it’ll stick this time, to no avail.

This isn’t happening. Please, this can’t possibly be happening.

I reach for the package the wax came in and with it in my hand, I sit on the toilet lid, reading to see if there’s any emergency instructions. Nope. Nada.

Maybe warm water. I go to stand up to run a warm bath, but am barely able to inch upward.

I’m stuck to the toilet lid! With my hands on my face, I start to laugh until tears pour out of my eyes. I’ve glued myself to the damn toilet!

“Hayley!” I yell through my hands and tremble in laughter when she peeks in.

“What is it, babe?” She rushes to my side with worry seeping through her pores, which causes me to laugh harder. She rubs her hand over my back trying to console me until I can contain myself.

“I’m not crying.” I wipe the tears from my face and she arches her eyebrows at me. “Okay, I am crying, but I’m fine. Or I will be. I just need your help.”

I explain my dilemma to her, and within seconds she is lying by my side on the floor in hysterics. At least I keep my life amusing.

“Okay,” she breathes. “Okay. Maybe the package.” She picks it up, but I tell her I’ve already read through it. “Did you follow the instructions?”

“I let it cool down a bit too much I think,” I admit. “Maybe if I run a warm bath it’ll come off.”

“So we just need to get you off the toilet.”

I nod. “First run the bath.”

“We need a first aid kit. Just in case.”

“Right.”

A first aid kit. For my inner butt. I should probably blog about this.

Hayley leaves me as she searches for my stash of antiseptic and band aids. Maybe she’ll find my pride along with it.

She returns quickly with a handful of crap and a big grin on her face. “You’re tweeting about this, aren’t you?”

I shrug. “No such thing as TMI on social media.”

Hayley puts her hand under my arm and we nod at each other. “Count of three,” she whispers. “One, two, three.”

With her help, I stand up hard, taking the toilet lid with me. Well at least I’m no longer stuck to the whole toilet.

Hayley looks at me, and I’m afraid I’m going to burst into real tears. I have a toilet lid stuck to my ass.

“Well, there’s a fashion statement.” Hayley grins, and I gently sit back down with my new appendage.

“Think Adam will notice?” I smile back.

“He’ll probably think you’ve been swiping fast food when he’s not looking.”

“What am I gonna do, Hayley?” I half-laugh, half-cry into my hands.

“I have an idea.”

I follow her into my bedroom and hold onto the bed frame as instructed while I wait for her to pull the lid off.

“Count of three?” she asks and I shake my head.

“Surprise me.” I close my eyes and grip my bed tightly.

Surprise me she does when she yanks the lid clean off, breaking it into two pieces, and lands on her butt. I’m too tired to yell from the pain, but manage a few giggles when I see my friend holding the broken lid triumphantly over her head like some warped version of the Incredible Hulk.

I reach between my legs again and whimper when I feel the glue still there.

“That’s what the warm water’s for,” she reminds me.

“But what if I get stuck to the bottom of the tub?”

“Don’t let your ass touch the bottom, stupid.”

“I’m not the one holding two broken pieces of a dirty toilet, asshole.”

Hayley drops the lid with a hard thud and glares at me. “Who glued themselves to that same toilet, dipshit?”

“You girls okay?” Max calls through the door.

“Yes,” we sing in unison and start to laugh once again.

“Warm bath.” I nod, hoping I remember not to let my ass touch the bottom.

“You want a wash cloth?” she asks, but then laughs, probably picturing it stuck to me as well.

I step into the tub on weak knees and exhale slowly as I get ready to not quite sit in the tub.

“Oil!” Hayley exclaims, pulling me out of my tub. She reaches for the box and dumps the rest of the contents on my bathroom countertop, squealing when the small tube of oil falls out.

“I’m an idiot.”

“World class jackass,” she agrees.

“Out.” I push her towards the door, but she plops herself on the floor adamant to see the grand finale of this performance.

I glare at her without much vehemence. I’m far too excited to see if the oil will work. I rub my fingers together with the oil and run them over the glue, which miraculously begins to dissolve.

I shriek in delight, pouring more oil all over my hand and enthusiastically rid myself of the wax while Hayley snorts behind me.

With the music pounding in my ear and the stale stench clinging to my nose, I shake my head at Adam. As far as dates go, this isn’t exactly romantic. But I guess romance isn’t really a part of who we are.

I sit on the padded floor with Josie settled on my lap while Adam snaps pictures of us playing with the blocks she’s found. Kids crawl around us, and I giggle at Josie’s enthusiasm when they get near her. But they crawl past us, barely noticing Josie’s squeals or outstretched hands.

“Can you imagine when she’s crawling too?” Adam smirks, apparently reading my mind.

“There isn’t enough coffee to help us keep up with her,” I respond, and a fellow mom chasing after her crawling toddler snorts an obscenity at me. My eyes widen, and when they meet Adam’s we both laugh.

After taking a few more shots of us, Adam lies down in front of us with his head resting on his arms.

“You ready to crawl yet, gremlin?”

I cover her ears so she can’t hear him. “Gremlin? Really?” I ask and he winks at me. “Whatever, just don’t jinx us!”

Ignoring me, Adam shows Josie how to crawl by scooting closer to us on his stomach. I listen to his instructions and bite my bottom lip as I try not to laugh, but he looks so ridiculous the effort is actually painful.

A younger mom, around my age stops in front of us and openly gapes at Adam. I smirk at him, knowing full well his cover as the bad ass rock star is about to be blown, and he looks back at me with one of his panty dropping grins that leaves women imagining far more than he realizes.

“Aren’t you—” She stops mid-sentence and continues to stare at him. “No.” She shakes her head. “I’m sorry.”

I keep Josie upright as I roll to my side and laugh hysterically. “Oh, it hurts!” I cry. “Oh, gah, it hurts!” I clutch my stomach as fresh tears roll down my face when Josie joins me in laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Adam asks innocently, which makes me laugh even harder.

“You—” I point at him, barely able to speak as I try to catch my breath. “Her—” I start to laugh again when I picture her face when she stared at Adam. She knew who he was, but even her mind couldn’t comprehend him slithering around on his stomach.  

“Girls are weird,” Adam determines and takes Josie away from me as I try to compose myself.

I sit up and grin back at him. “You’re the weirdo.” I put Josie’s socks back on her feet while she struggles to put her toes in her mouth. “The poor girl didn’t know what to make of you.”

“Just a dad showing his little girl how to crawl.”

“They teach you that in one of your parenting books?”

“Don’t knock the parenting books.” Adam stands up with Josie in his arms and helps me to my feet before he puts his arm around my shoulders.

“Your parenting book sucks,” I whisper low enough so the other parents can’t hear me.

“They’re genius,” he counters.

“Negative.” I ignore Adam’s snide remarks as I lead us to the pizzeria across the street. “Your genius parenting books taught you way too much about additives and preservatives and not enough about enjoying the good food.”