The fuck?
I shake my head, trying to clear my brain of the confusion that has infiltrated it. What the hell happened to that letter?
“Okay, fine, it doesn’t really matter now anyway. But Nat, this…” I motion between us. “This needs to be done. For real this time.”
“No, please, Everett. She is going to leave you again. Then I will be left to pick up the pieces…again!”
“You never picked up my pieces, Nat.”They are still left all over the fucking floor of Mill’s Coffee House.
The anger is gone from her expression. I think it is finally hitting her that we are done, officially, finally. Whatever this…release was, it’s over.
“Don’t come crawling back to me when she leaves you again, Everett. Because she will, just like last time.”
With that, she storms out of my apartment, and I let out a relieved sigh. There is a heaviness that leaves my body, like a weight lifted off my shoulders now that she and I are over. I’ll always have a soft spot for her—I’m not built to not care, especially for someone I have known as long and as intimately as Nat, but I feel at peace, honestly. Ready to move forward and chase my pretty bird.
And speaking of pretty birds… My phone dings with an incoming text.
Pretty Bird:
Rune has been asking about you nonstop since Saturday. Are you free to meet us either tonight at baseball or tomorrow at the library?
Just tell me when and where. I’ll be there for both.
She sends me the address and location for both, and I save them in my calendar. I’ll be there for everything I possibly can. My work schedule is not normal, so it will be difficult to make everything, especially with how busy Rune is, but I’ll make sure he knows that if I can be, I will be. I will be there for him always.
I hop in the shower after responding to Leo. I’m one of those people that, once I’m awake, I can’t go back to sleep, so four hours of sleep will have to do.
My mind is racing with a multitude of different things. What happened to my letter? Leo’s luscious thighs. Maybe I can stop by and get a coffee for Leo before baseball. Leo’s full, soft, delicious lips that always taste like cinnamon and coffee. I hope Nat got home safe. Leo’s freckles and all the stars I have counted on her face, her smile, the way her lips part slightly when she gasps in surprise or anger or pleasure. I wonder if Rune would like to go to a Red Socks game with me. Leo’s scent, her taste, her… Fuck. Now I’m hard again.
I let the water roll down my back, coating my muscles in its warmth, lifting the tension from them. I brace my arm above my head and lean into the wall, grasping my cock with my hand. It isn’t the same. It’s not warm like her, wet like her. It doesn’t fucking grip my cock like she does. But with my eyes closed, imagining her laid out in front of me. Her laughter as I nuzzle her neck, her moans as I grip her thighs, her little yips when I sink my teeth into her soft flesh.
I’m stroking myself faster and faster, my rough hands moving up and down, tugging and pulling, enough but not the same as if her small hands and wet mouth were wrapped around me.
And as I imagine her tied to my bed, my leather belt securing her wrists together above her head or behind her back, unable to run from me, screaming my name, I come undone.
“Fuucking shit,” I let out, out of breath and completely unsatisfied because when I open my eyes, she isn’t in front of me, her pussyisn’t milking my cock—no, I’m met with the cold black tile of my cold, dull bathroom.
When I exit the shower, my white towel around my waist, Muffin is lying on my bathmat. He looks up at me and gives me a pitiful whine, like he misses her too. I saw them snuggling Saturday while Rune and I tossed the ball around.
“I know, buddy. You want Leo snugs too? Well, get in line.”
I pat his head, and he trots off, I’m sure to find a more comfortable place now that I’ve taken over his space.
I get ready for the day, dressing in dark jeans and a navy-blue sweater. I put a Red Socks ball cap and my watch on. I pad barefoot to the kitchen and make myself some avocado toast topped with arugula and dressed with a balsamic glaze and a fresh orange.
I can't stop thinking about Nat’s letter. What the fuck happened to it? I would call my mom and ask, but I have ended that communication. For good. It’s not like she would tell me anyway—just more lies.
I need a distraction, so I go online and look up tickets for the game. Spring season is coming up. I almost buy some great seats but decide I need to check with Leo first. She is guiding this relationship between Rune and me, even though I want to have the freedom to do these kinds of things, I know that I have to earn it. Even though she hid him from me, she is still apprehensive and unsure of my intent with him. I have to show her that I am in it—all his life, I will be there.
Next I pull up some case studies I have been reviewing for work. Keeping my mind sharp and up to date on best practice medicine ishow I prepare myself to save as many kids as I can, and if I get too distracted then I won't be the best doctor I can be. It’s going to be a lot, balancing my work and Leo and Rune, but it’s worth it. I would give up everything to have a life with Rune. Fuck, I would quit my job and wait tables if it meant I got to be as present as he needs me to be. I know it’s possible. There are some doctors I work with who have kids, and they make it work.
With the case studies, making lunch, and taking Muffin out on a walk, it occupied most of my day, and now it’s time to head to Rune’s baseball practice. I’m fucking excited. I never played baseball, but I enjoy it, like I enjoy most sports. I bet he is so cute in his pants and helmet, swinging the bat around and running from base to base. I can’t wait to see the excitement on his face when he runs past home plate or makes contact with the ball and lets it fly.
I put Muffin in the truck and head to Henry Leo’s to get a coffee for Leo and me and a hot cocoa for Rune. I also might have gotten Muffin a Puppy-ccino, which he messily lapped up, leaving splatters of whipped cream all over my dash. Then we head to the field. I don’t see many parents. Maybe three adults and three kids. But I see her. She stands out, as beautiful as the first day I saw her. Fucking radiating. She’s in a pair of light denim jeans and a hoodie with the Henry Leo’s logo on the back. Her unruly curls are tied up atop her head, some strands hanging down in front of her face, and she’s reading a book. In her safe space, her peace. Some things never change.
As soon as I open the door, Muffin hops out and runs full speed to her. I have never seen this dog run a day in his life, but he sure as fuck bolted to Leo. Me too, man. Me too.
When she hears the commotion, she looks toward Muffin and prepares for impact. He slams into her—and yup, I’m a little jealous. I’d fucking kill to be slamming into her right now.
