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“This is some good cookin’,” Jimbob says, using one hand to rip the rib meat off the bone. He looks manly doing it, and I wonder for a moment why he and Bennet haven’t gotten together. If I lived out here in the middle of nowhere, I’d climb him like a tree. “Who made it so I can thank ’em?”
“It was Kristy and Jasper,” Bennet says as he places his fork in his mouth and seductively drags it out.
Jimbob catches sight of it and flushes pink.
“Ah,” he replies and then bobs his head, his Adam’s apple working hard as he swallows.
“Well, it’s good. Y’all are talented.”
I puff up at that, feeling like now is my time to one-up Jimbob. Because honestly, the man is quite near perfect.
“I went to culinary school for a few years,” I say, and Bennet freezes, his eyes meeting mine.
“Why didn’t I know this?” he asks, and I shrug.
“Never came up.”
“Why didn’t you keep at it?” Bridgette asks, and I take a bite of my mashed potatoes and shrug again.
“Just didn’t make enough money in the end. Had bills to pay so I had to consider other…avenues.”
I don’t mention being a camboy, considering Bennet hasn’t told them. But surely they have some vague idea of what he does. They have to. He’s famous. I don’t want to inflate his ego more than it already is, but Bennet is well-known. Surely someone from around here watches gay porn. Someone must have at least hinted at it.
“California isn’t cheap,” Bridgette says.
“No, it’s not,” I reply.
And then we keep on eating, chatting with each other, and it’s an odd feeling, belonging to a family like this.
I’m not sure what to do with it now that I’ve experienced it. I haven’t spoken to my parents in ages. It’s almost like I ceased to exist once I moved out.
Not that I want to chat with them. But fuck, what would it feel like to belong to people like this.
As I ponder this, I see Jimbob lean over to Bennet and say something that no one else is meant to hear. Bennet smirks at that, and Jimbob blushes again. The pig wiggles in his arm, milk dribbling down its chin. It went through that bottle and is getting all sleepy-eyed.
I don’t know what they’re whispering to each other, but it’s making me really annoyed. It’s just rude. No one should be whispering at a dinner table. It’s…it’s impolite. If they want to say something, they should say it so everyone can hear.
I choke down my food, trying not to stare.
When it’s finally time to do the dishes, I feel like storming out. But I’m a mature adult, so instead, I aggressively scrub at the plates while Bennet and Jimbob talk in the other room. They’re probably kissing or…doing other things. Jimbob has a crush and Jimbob is irresistible. And don’t get me started on when Jimbob leaves for the evening. Bennet walks him out to his truck, like some kind of gentleman, and when I peered through the kitchen window, I swear I saw him kiss Jimbob’s cheek.
By the time Bennet and I head back to the trailer, I’m in a mood. A motherfuckingmood.
Bennet is eyeing me warily, and I’m seething. See if I make his family cauliflower mashed potatoes ever again.
Ugh, I totally will. They need more vegetables in their diet, but see if I talk to him.
Kissing Jimbob. Honestly, where does he get off?
My hand was on his dick last night. Mine.
I’m irrational and grumpy, and Bennet must sense it because as soon as we are in the trailer he asks, “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” I say as I quickly change into my pajama pants and then grab my toothbrush and scrub at my teeth. “Brush your teeth. We are gonna do another teaser.”
“Like this? With you mad at me for some reason?”
I humph like a curmudgeonly old man. I am a curmudgeon. Just amudge.
