“Don’t be,” I said, jumping into the truck bed. “You wanted kids, and it’ll be easier to have them back-to-back. You’ll still be young when they grow up.” Honestly, I was pretty proud of the logic because I was terrified for him.
“Maybe,” he said, this time watching me work. “Dash acts older than he is,” Scott said.
“You think?” I asked, teasingly. “We live like we’re thirty years old and it’s awesome. He’s constantly lookin’ out for me, and I don’t make it easy.” I lifted and stretched. The truck bed was packed solidly. No room to be had. It worked out perfectly. I jumped down and Scott lifted the tailgate to lock it in place. “How you feel about Lauren’s pretty much what happens here.”
“I love you, guy,” Scott said, clamping a hand on my shoulder as he went past me for the house. “And you know I’m so cool with everything, but I’m not ready to hear about your sex life. It seems painful. My ass clenches when I think about it. Not that I’m thinkin’ about it.”
I followed behind him, trying my best to hide my smile. “When the ass clenches, that’s the sweet spot.”
“Nope, not listenin’. I’m gettin’ the food. You go anywhere else,” Scott said, diverting toward the kitchen.
Yup, this was, in fact, a great day.
9: The Big Life
Beau
Chicago, Illinois
“Fuck, the traffic’s bad,” Scott said with aggravation, driving the last leg of the trip. I stayed focused on the street signs and the MapQuest directions that I’d printed before we left the house. Dash was still in my ear, asking all sorts of questions I ignored. He was standing out front of the parking garage, waiting to guide us in.
There were too many cars on the street and none of them cared about basic consideration. Somebody had to let us over. Scott needed to change lanes, but this truck was pretty massive compared to the smaller vehicles weaving through traffic. We also needed another minute to signal a turn just ahead.
“Left at the light. Dash’s out front waitin’ for us,” I said, pointing toward the streetlamp just ahead. “Force your way over. They’re not gonna let you in.”
“I don’t want to wreck your truck,” Scott said, hesitating.
“We’re bigger than all the cars on the road. Get over,” I said, turning to look out the back window. “You got a chance comin’ up.” Seconds later, I shouted, “Now. Put the truck in that lane.” Of course, there was a crescendo of annoyed honks coming from behind us. I didn’t care. I was tired of being inside this cab, but I easily admitted the large lake just to our right soothed some of my irritation.
“Do we park in the garage to unload?” Scott asked.
“Yes. Pick me up and I’ll guide us to the service elevator,” Dash said. “I can’t wait to see you.”
“We’ll pick him up, and he’ll guide us into the garage to where the service elevators are,” I explained again, maybe for the fourth time. At the light, I could feel the tension in the truck. The only noise in the cab came from the blinker, ticking over and over again.
“Tell him I miss you,” Dash instructed, clearly not picking up what was happening inside this truck.
“I’m not saying that to him,” I said, watching Scott bust a move, turning left before oncoming traffic began to roll forward. The cars in those lanes started with their long honks and clearly given hand gestures showing what they thought of us. Dealing with this kind of traffic was going to be a lot to handle every day.
“I see you,” Dash said. I spotted him too. He was handsome in crisp blue jeans, white runners, and a blue jacket zipped to the collar. When we left Dallas, it was shorts and T-shirt weather. The temperature had dropped by thirty degrees on the way up.
“You see him, right?” I asked Scott. My gaze focused on Dash, raising his hand to make sure we saw him.
“’Course, I do. Do I pull up in front of him?” he asked.
“Yes,” Dash answered, walking a few steps into the street.
“Yeah,” I said, repeating Dash’s word. We barely had the gearshift in park, with Dash rounding the hood of the truck in my direction, before the phone call ended, and my door was yanked open. The cool air blew inside the cab as I was enveloped into his arms. His lips and face buried into the crook of my neck. I felt his love to my core.
“I missed you.” I circled my arm around his back while releasing the seatbelt holding me in with my other hand.
“How could you miss me? We’ve spent most of our free time on the phone together.” The words were intended to come off as playfully sarcastic, but with the way my arm stayed lockedaround his back, he had to know my truth. His palms came to my cheeks as I turned, putting a foot out the door. He didn’t let me out but stayed in my face as he drank me in.
“We don’t do this again. I like you being with me. Promise,” he said.
I leaned forward to kiss his lips and forced myself out of the cab. A loud honk came from behind that instantly grated on my last nerve. The agitation was quick and thorough. I believed Dallas had some bad road rage, but they seemed downright hospitable compared to these drivers.
“Come on, guys. We gotta move,” Scott said, lifting a hand high to flip the driver off through the back window.
