Nat met her Prince Charming, Danny, and they’re living their white picket-fence dream-life in the same cul-de-sac as Mom and Dad—two point five kids and everything, since my niece is due to arrive any day now. I thought Aaron and I had our own happily ever after too, before fate apparently decided that wasn’t in the cards for us in the most tragic of ways. My decision to uproot and come back to Ternbay was all about reclaiming a time when things were more simple and the memories were happier.Mostly, anyway.
“So,” Lauren chirps, plunking down on the bench across from me. “Last time you gave me a little something about yourself. It seems only fair that I return the favor. What do you want to know about me?”
She scoops one of the two cherries off the top of the sundae and slips it between her plush lips. Her tongue darts out to swipe off a remnant of whipped cream left behind. Suddenly, I’m at a loss as to what she just asked me—because, well, my dick just took notice as well. When it comes to Lauren, the fuckin’ thing always starts to pay too much attention, it seems.
“Caleb?”
My eyes snap up to meet hers. “Are you single?” are the first words that fly right out of my hands. Her jaw drops, and her breath catches in her throat. She coughs slightly, and I apologize, wincing at my own brazenness.
“It’s um—It’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting that,” she croaks. “Um, I don’t really know how to explain it, but… yes and no, I guess?” Her tone suggests it’s a question and not a statement. “I mean. I have a husband… kinda. We’re not married, but we’ve been together for a long time. Pretty sure that makes us, like, common-law spouses or whatever—I don’t know, I hate labels. Um, but we’re… open? I guess?”
“Open…” I repeat, hoping my expression suggests that I’ve trailed off, confused.
“Yeah, um. So he’s my best friend, really. We’ve known each other since middle school. We live together, and for all intents and purposes, we’re a couple… but not in the conventional sense. We—umm—we love each other deeply, on a soulmate level, but we’ve agreed to have mutually open arrangements outside of the home, however, because he’s—uhm—well, he’s gay… like you.”
I smirk. “I’m O-M-N-I-S-E-X-U-A-L, actually,” I tell her, fingerspelling omnisexual, since there is no signed word for it that I’m aware of.
“Oh!” she remarks, chipperly at first. Then, she repeats herself, after what I just told her sinks in. “Oh. So you…?”
“I’m attracted to all genders; I just find some more attractive than others,” I confirm. “I’m sorry, I thought I was being pretty obvious that I’ve been flirting with you for quite some time. I guess I need to be less subtle—the costume didn’t do it for you.”
She laughs and then nods, looking down at the ice cream for a few beats. Finally, a harsher expression extinguishes the smile that had once been on her face. “Is this like a date or something?” she asks.
I study the sudden frown on her face, not knowing how to respond. Yeah? I mean, I had kind of hoped this was something like that, but what if I’ve been reading her all wrong all these times. I half figured that she was interested in me too, especially since any other interpreter I’ve met always did their job and split right after—happy to havethe extra free time paid for—but what if I was just mistaking her kindness for flirtiness?
Now I feel like an even bigger idiot. One who already happens to look like one by having dressed up in a cropped tank and way too snug short shorts for today’s appointment.Ugh.
“I’m sorry if that came off harsh,” she quickly blurts. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I—I just—I haven’t dated a man before. Like,ever. Um, only back in high school, but that doesn’t really count, does it? I don’t count it, that was so long ago and… oh my god, I’m rambling.Pleasedon’t think I’m insinuating that I don’t want this to be a date… Um, I’m blowing this, aren’t I?”
I chuckle. “No. You’re just as adorable as ever, actually. I hope I don’t make you feel nervous. I’m not so good at the dating thing myself, but I would very much like to call this one. If that’s okay with you, that is.”
She nods, clearly mulling her response over. “You know? I think I would. You’re one of the first men I actually don’t feel too nervous to be around. That may be because I met you through work though. Which, by the way, is probably crossingsomany professional boundaries.”
“It can be our little secret, if you’d like. See, one of the excellent things about dating someone who is mute is that they’re excellent at keeping secrets, since we literally cannot be blabbermouths.”
She laughs, a throaty sound that sends a delightful shiver down my spine. It almost feels like a balm, easing the ache from today’s earlier “massage.” “How are you so funny and so good looking at the same time? Like, in what universe is thatremotelyfair?”
I grin. “I was thinking the same thing about you earlier, when you were commenting on our geriatric status. Though, I hardly think thirtyis old enough to start considering clicking on those AARP emails I get in my SPAM folder.”
She smirks. “Oh god, that makes me a cougar. I’m thirty-two.”
I nod, doing my best to look sullen. “I thought I noticed some gray roots up there.” I nod at her head.
She gasps, looking affronted. “You didnotjust say that.”
“These hands don’t stutter.”
She flicks a glob of ice cream at me, hitting me right on the nose. “And these ones don’t miss where they aim.” She blows on the tip of her spoon as if it were a smoking gun.
“You’re damn lucky you’re so cute,” I reply playfully, swiping the cold cream off my nose and reaching across the table to feed it to her. “Do you need to let your gay kinda-husband know where you are?” I ask, hoping to extend this impromptu date out a little longer.
She giggles. “I don’t need to ask permission, if that’s what you mean. But I probably should check in and make sure he’s all set if I stay out later than anticipated. He worries about me constantly. Be right back.”
I nod, and she takes off with her cellphone to go touch base. Uncertainty rattles my insides regarding the information she’s just given me though. On the one hand, it sounds like she’s very much in love with this man she’s with—and they have a mutually agreed upon take on non-monogamy. On the other hand, however, what if he is, in turn, using her as a smokescreen to hide his sexual orientation behind, since this is a fairly conservative area? I’ve dated someone before—right here in Ternbay, actually—who was essentially doing just that: screwing around on the side of his family because he was too scared to come out of the closet.
I don’t want to wind up in a mess like that all over again.
I also don’t want to be as lonely as I am forever though, either.
