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Even in the cool morning, heat tore up my back, and through my cock. Don’t stiffen, I begged my dick. Not now.
It felt silly, being twenty-seven and still not having control over my erections. Or, well, I used to, anyway. Until Phoebe rolled into town.
“Breakfast,” I repeated, lifting the tray up in the air, an offering.
She moved through the door frame, shutting it closed behind her, and walking down the steps.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the proverbial olive branch, our hands brushing as I passed it off. “This looks delicious.”
“No problem.”
What I’d meant to say was, I fucked up last night, we both know it. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
Instead, I’d just managed ‘no problem.’ Not exactly a wordsmith, was I?
We stood awkwardly in the driveway, Phoebe in a T-shirt and no pants — and maybe no underwear, I thought with a strange mixture of guilt and hope — and I in boxers. We certainly made the odd pair.
I cleared my throat. “So, uh, since there ain’t nothin’ to do in Rough and Ready, I thought maybe you’d like to come to work with me. At the auto shop. Unless, ‘course, you’ll be needing public Wi-Fi. The only place to get that is the public library in the next town over.”
“The library in the next town over?” She was skeptical. Such a city girl.
“Yeah, cable companies don’t really come out here. No money in it for them.”
“Gotcha.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I’ll have to talk to Jo-Beth—”
Speak of the devil — the door was flung ajar, and Jo-Beth popped her blonde head out to say, “I need to go to the library!”
Phoebe’s eyebrows went up. “You’re awake?”
“Of course I’m awake, duh. And I need to go to the library to do my work.”
“Jo-Beth’s trying to get ahead of her schoolwork,” Phoebe explained.
“Pass me a plate, Phoebe!” Jo-Beth insisted. “How do I get to the library?”
“Easy, I’ll drive you as it’s the next town over. Just about fifteen minutes. Opens at ten. I have to be at work at nine, so do you mind if I drop you off and you find a coffee shop?”
“Perfect.” Jo-Beth’s head ducked back into the trailer, but before closing the door, she shouted again, “Bring the eggs!”
Phoebe rolled her eyes, clearly amused but not exasperated with her friend’s demands.
“So… do you?” I asked, words jumbling in my mouth. “Wanna come to the repair shop, that is. It’s not much to look at, but what it lacks in décor I’ll make up for in company.”
Her eyes dropped to the ground. “You sure you want me to come? Last night, it seemed like—”
“Please forgive me for last night,” I interjected, anxious for her forgiveness. “I behaved like an ass. It was rude. I’d like to be the perfect host for the remainder of your stay. How does that sound?”
I think we both noticed that I chose the word “host.” It was careful, removed. Totally sanitary.
Even still, she looked back up at me. “You don’t have to apologize. I mean, I get it. But thank you.”
Being around her made me feel… gosh, I guess inarticulate? Which wasn’t what I was used to feeling. Especially in Rough and Ready, where I was something of a big brain. With Phoebe, though, it was as though every word meant one meaning and all its possible alternate meanings at the same time, where universes of a word collapsed in on themselves and we lived in constant dualities.
“So… you’ll come?”
She smiled. “Of course. Lemme just eat this, get changed… then yeah. I’ll come.”
My victory was complete — Phoebe had forgiven my simple ways. I nodded and left her to her business.
I walked back inside, threw a robe on — how had I forgotten this the first time around — and sat down to eat with my son. I’m not gonna lie, it felt like the breakfast of champions.
We gobbled down the food at breakneck speed, as we were wont to do. Maybe a mother would’ve told Henry to slow down or he’d give himself a stomach ache, but I figured that that was just an old wives’ tale.
Soon, I was helping Henry into a T-shirt and shorts while I myself pulled on a black T-shirt and jeans, plus my ever-present cowboy boots. As Henry made last-minute adjustments to his outfit — he was a fastidious kid — I examined myself in the mirror, slicking back my hair with the palm of a hand.
Was this hot enough for Phoebe? I wondered. A stupid thing to wonder, really, given that I wasn’t trying to bed her. Still… couldn’t a man wanna impress a woman? Did there have to be ulterior motives?
I flexed a bicep self-consciously. Yup, still got it.
“Okay, Henry, let’s go!”
He raced out of his room, veering left and to the front door. One day, maybe, he’d slow down. Right now, it felt like I was constantly sprinting to keep up with him.
