He smirks briefly before covering it up. “I probably shouldn’t have done that, you’re right. We should both be focusing on Lauren. Though, I was going to propose—”
He doesn’t get to finish that thought when suddenly the redhead huffs, “You both are terrible, and see, this is why I can’t just go on vacation and visit new places with you. You can’t leave your horniness at home. They’re clearly into each other, not a pair of DTF out-of-towners. I mean, you guys can’t tell me their body language right now isn’t screaming that they’re into one another.”
Caleb and I both glance at our postures. Caleb’s legs spread wide on his stool, mine in between his, and we’re full on facing each other, not the bar. I was quite certain that it had more to do with how we could address each other while conversing with our hands, but now I’m not so sure… especially with one of his hands casually resting on my thigh. It seems like we’ve forgotten to keep some degree of separation between ourselves, and have, instead, fallen into old, more intimate, positioning.
Caleb’s hand jerks backwards as if he suddenly realized what he was palming was scorching him. I quickly stiffen and twist myself to face the bar, clearing my throat in the process. We both take a sip of our drinks in tandem.
“Oh my god,” the blond—Molly, I presume—gasps, her hands flying up to cover her face. “They just moved apart. Shit, Keels, do you think theycanread lips?”
Caleb sighs in annoyance. I decide it’s finally time to put them out of their misery and end this charade. I look over my shoulder, directly at the trio. “They can do more than read lips,” I tell them. “Theybothcan hear every word you’re saying.”
Chapter Twelve
July and half of August flew by in a total blur, and I mean that quite literally. I feel like it was a non-stop whirlwind of getting acclimated to being in the working world again, socializing at the bar after work with Marcus, PT appointments for my back, adventuring with Cameron, and trying to cram in time with Lauren whenever she could spare a moment at the same time as me. I’m so looking forward to the upcoming long weekend because this Labor Day camping trip we’ve got planned might just be the break from the hustle and grind that I am in desperate need of.
It also happens to be the weekend that Lauren and I decided it would finally be time to break the news to Brody that his mother and I have been seeing each other. Despite all the dates we’ve been on now, she still hasn’t addressed the elephant in the room about whether or not she and I are truly in a relationship. And sure, it seems odd to me to be thirty and wondering if I should pass her a note or somethingasking her to be my girlfriend, but I’m trying hard to take things at her pace, waiting for her to take that step.
It’s increasingly evident that she is slowly pushing at her comfort boundaries, testing out what feels right for her, and I won’t ever take from her more than she is willing to give. She’s grown less timid about receiving intimate touch, and she’s even initiated quite a few cuddle sessions with me. Quick pecks often turn into passionate make out sessions, and I can tell that internally she’s begging for more, but I think that the biggest hurdle for her now is simply that this all feels too discreet. She wants to be open about this—us—with her family.
That’s why, I believe, she was eager to have Brody and Marcus join me, her, and Cameron on this camping trip. She wants to see how well we all mesh together in a neutral environment. There will be no my house versus her home and, best of all, no more sneaking around. I think that, once this is all out in the open, she’ll feel freer to pursue a deeper connection between the two of us.
She also hasn’t ever brought back up the throuple idea either. I have to wonder if she and Marcus have had the conversation though, and that’s why it hasn’t come up again. I won’t lie and say that I haven’t given that notion a second—or hell, even a third—thought, however. I just—well, since that day I teased him on the boat and saw how steadfast he was about keeping things between us purely platonic, I’ve been doing my best to stuff those thoughts down.
Whatever Marcus and I had is in the past, and I guess I just need to accept that, though it is literally paining me to do so.I thought that night, back when Lauren prompted Marcus and me to have a come-to-Jesus moment in their kitchen on the Fourth of July, I was pretty honest and open with him about how I took more away from our relationship than he did, and that it hurt me. I told him I had loved him, and I get that he was trying to protect his family by keepingme at arm’s length, but he had admitted that he felt strongly for me too. Wehadsomething, and now—well, now it’s just turned into a sort of friendship, more than anything.
Sometimes it feels wrong—and, honestly, kind of shameful—that I continue wanting for any of this: a relationship with Lauren, for that spark between Marcus and me to be reignited, and for us to blend our families. I was married; I promised myself to another in sickness and in health… ‘til death do us part. Aaron’s not dead, and I’m not doing my part to honor my vows, even though I technically can't. I’ve been legally barred from doing so. Am I being selfish for putting myself out there and for involving our son in the process?
“What’s wrong?” Marcus asks me, startling me from my thoughts. “You look rather distraught, like someone yeeted your favorite steak into a shark tank.”
That gets a chuckle out of me, despite the self-deprecating place my mind was heading towards. I guess that’s what I appreciate the most about spending more time with Marcus again—working together and hanging out afterwards. He’s funny and charismatic. He brings light into those dark recesses I sometimes feel myself being magnetized to. Maybe that’s why I can’t seem to want to keep things with him platonic, because in him I find fireworks. Glittering bursts of color that light up the shadows. Heck, I even find laughter and the ability to smile more, after being subdued in my lonely space for so long.
I sigh. “Just thinking about how much this weekend could make or break a future for Lauren and me. I mean, what if Brody doesn’t understand our situation? Kids aren’t exactly brought up in a world where polyamory is understood, you know?”
Marcus’ amusement falters and he leans in closer. “Caleb, I know my son, and I think he’ll understand once we explain it all to him in very simple terms. As harsh as the reality is, he has gone his entire lifejust wanting to be understood and accepted himself, so I don’t think he’ll react how you’d expect most kids his age to. He’s wise beyond his years. So much so, that it often stuns Lo and me with some of the things he says. He’s already enamored with you and Cam anyway, and right now all he thinks is that you’re good friends of ours.”
That brings a slight grin to my lips. The boys have met up a few times under the guise of getting to see Pepper. Really, it was Lauren and I testing the waters to see how well they’d get along together long-term. We didn’t want to just assume that the commonality of their deafness would automatically render them best friends because that’s neither boy’s only attribute.
Cameron obviously knows that I’ve been dating Lauren, and he’s been completely fine with it, but with Lauren comes her family too. This weekend will be the first time all of us have really been together in the same shared space. The dynamic could suddenly be too overwhelming for him, and I do worry what the end result of that will be. Will he change his mind about being so comfortable with this?
That’s why we’ll be bringing Pepper along for this weekend as well. I want him to have his comfort critter nearby, in case things go haywire. Speaking of bringing Pepper, we’ll need his harness that labels him a service animal, since there’s no way he’ll be able to freely roam around a campground without scaring other campers otherwise.
Cam likes to joke around and tell everyone Pepper is hishearing ear skunk, and the hilarious part is no one questions it either, like the skunk can interpret for him. Just goes to show you how ignorant people can sometimes be, like that day back at Portside when those tourists spoke openly about Marcus and me because they thought we couldn’t hear them. And if you think that it only happens with tourists—because Ternbay is such a small town, thelocalsmustknow that I can hear them, I just can’t use my voice—you’d be wrong. Were it not for Lauren and Marcus, I’d still be a complete outsider.
I hunt around for my step stool, since Pepper’s rarely used gear is stuffed into a basket on the highest shelf of our coat closet. Cameron’s much taller than I am, so he can get to it with ease, but he’s currently at work while I’m left here packing for our trip. All our gear is going into the back of Marcus’ truck, which is why he’s here “helping.” Mostly, he’s just been playfully chasing Pepper around the house and pumping him full of treats whenever he catches the skunk.
“What’re you looking for?” Marcus asks me, cradling Pepper like a baby.
“My stool. I can’t reach the basket with Pepper’s gear in it.”
“That one?” He nods at the fabric bin in the closet, gently setting Pepper down on his converted cat bed.
I nod, and instead of using his height to easily reach up and grab the thing himself, he spins me around, bends at his waist, and lifts me up under my armpits. Boosting me up like a fucking child. At first, I’m taken aback by the action, if not mildly annoyed by it. I think he’s ridiculing me for being so much shorter than he is, since he likes to point it out so much. Then, I think better of it.
Marcus always used to get off on the fact that I was a much-smaller-than-him but still the captain-of-this-ship figure. He never once poked fun at the fact that I’m shorter than average for guys my age because, next to his six-foot-four, pretty much everyone is shorter. No, what he’s doing now by giving me a boost is not taking charge of me, which is something he has done continuously while interpreting for me—he never speaks over me or silences me.
Perhaps Lauren reallywasbeing serious when she said that Marcus and I both were the greenest green-flag men she’s ever known.
“Got it?” Marcus asks, peering up at me.
