This Is Forever Page 15

  “Yeah, buddy,” Justin says, turning to look at him. “We’re coming right out.”

  Dylan nods and skips away to the door going outside. “Oh my God,” I say, and Justin looks at me. “I can’t believe he caught us making out.”

  “I’m planning on making out with you a lot, so the chances of him catching us again are very high,” he says and kisses my neck, but his hands fall. “Assuming you are okay with making out with me?”

  “I mean …” I start to say, and he looks at me. “I like kissing you, but I also don’t want him to think that …” I try to find the words. “That I’m, you know.”

  “I don’t know.” He looks at me and then puts his hands on his hips. “I think that he will see us kissing and know that when you like someone a lot, it’s okay to show them you like them.”

  “He’s never seen me kiss anyone,” I say. “And I mean anyone. Not even his father.”

  “There is so much that needs to be said right now, but I don’t think Dylan is going to give us another minute before he just says fuck it and eats the steaks. So for now, I’m tabling this, but I’m not going to shy away from kissing you nor will I sugarcoat it.”

  “I don’t even know what that means,” I mumble under my breath and go to grab the bowl of salad that I made and seasoned with the olive oil and balsamic I found in his pantry. A pantry that was overflowing with food.

  “Give me enough time, and you are going to know what that means,” he says, and I have to wonder if he’s telling me or asking me. Either way, I walk outside and sit at the table. After placing salad on Dylan’s plate, he also opts to have a loaded baked potato.

  “Now you dig in,” Justin tells him, cutting his steak for him. “But be careful because it’s hot.” I don’t want to think about how Andrew has never once fed our child, not even a bottle when he was younger. He used to use the excuse that Dylan wanted me instead. He never cut his food or even cooked for him.

  “Mom, can we have baked potatoes tomorrow?” he asks, and I have to laugh.

  “I have no idea,” I say, cutting a piece of steak and eating it. It melts in my mouth. “I have to work tomorrow, so we will see when we get home.”

  He groans and takes another bite. “Do I have to come?”

  I look at him. “Yes,” I say. “We go over this every single time.”

  “But it’s so boring.” He groans between bites, his eyes never leaving the plate as he does it.

  “Why doesn’t he stay with me?” Justin says, and I look over at him. I fixed the table with most of the stuff he showed me, and although I didn’t want to touch the glass pitcher, I did anyway because it looked beautiful and I’ve never had one. “I’m home all day tomorrow, and I kind of have an assignment I need to do, and he can help me with it.”

  “An assignment?” I ask, taking another piece of steak.

  “Well, I’m going to be on the cover of the next NHL video game,” he says, chewing his own piece of steak.

  “WHAT?” Dylan shrieks, throwing his fork down. “On the cover?” The look of pure joy covers his face.

  Justin just nods. “And they just sent me over the game, and I have to check it out and play it.”

  “So your assignment is to play a video game?” I ask, my foot moving back and forth as he glares at me.

  “There is a lot more than just playing a video game, sweetheart,” he says, and I shake my head and take a piece of salad, hoping the conversation ends.

  “Mom, there is so much more to playing the game.” Dylan copies Justin’s words. “That is so cool.”

  “This steak is so tender,” I say, changing the subject and hoping that Dylan forgets.

  “It’s the best,” he says, chewing on his last piece. “So can I stay with Justin?”

  “Dylan, I don’t think …” I start to say and look for Justin to help me out, but he just leans back in his chair and puts his hands on the arms of the chair, making his shirt go tight across his chest.

  “Why?” he asks, and I sit in the chair and look at him. “Why don’t you guys sleep here?”

  “Um, no,” I say the same time that Dylan says, “Yes!”

  “Hear me out,” he says, and I want to hurt him, but then I want to kiss him again.

  “You guys sleep here tonight,” he says, and I shake my head. “Then tomorrow, I can stay with Dylan, and you can go to work, and then we can have movie night.”

  “That,” Dylan says. “Let’s do that, Mom. Please,” he begs, then he turns to Justin. “Can I have more steak?”

  “Sure, buddy,” he says, taking a steak and cutting it on his plate.

  “We can’t just stay here,” I tell them.

  “Why not?” Dylan asks, eating a piece of steak.

  “Yeah, why not?” I glare at Justin’s question.

  “Well, for one, we don’t have any clothes.” I start with the obvious.

  “I can lend you something to sleep in,” Justin says.

  “Well, I need clothes for work tomorrow,” I say.

  “I can lend you something, and you can swing by your place before work,” Justin says, and I want to tell him no.

  “The bus ride alone is going to be …” I start saying, and he shuts it down.

  “You aren’t taking the bus. You can take the SUV,” he says, and I want to hit the table and tell him to stop it.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I say softly.

  “Why?” he asks. “I have two extra bedrooms. You can each take a room.”

  “Justin,” I say, and he looks at me, trying not to smile.

  “Besides, I want Dylan to help me with my game,” he says softly, and I look at the man who has taken my son under his wing and has included him in every single direction we are going. It’s overwhelming, and I put my napkin down and get up.

  “Excuse me,” I say, trying to walk away so he doesn’t see the tears in my eyes. I walk inside, and I’m looking for the bathroom when I accidentally walk into his room. I turn to walk back out and face-plant in his chest.

  “Are you okay?” he asks, his hands holding my arms. I look up, and it’s the wrong thing to do because he makes me want to take all the leaps. He makes me want to do all these things I said I would never do. He makes me want all the tomorrows. He makes me want it all, and I know that even if I guard myself, I’ll fall for him, and I’m not sure I can survive him leaving.

  “No,” I say, moving out of his touch. “I’m not okay.”

  “Why?” he asks, and I lift my arms up as if he should know.

  “Us staying here,” I say. “Dylan falling in love with you.”

  He waits for me to finish. “It’s just … it’s not just me I have to worry about.”

  “I will never ever hurt him,” he says softly. “Never. You never have to worry about that.” And I know by his tone that he would never hurt him.

  “Let me in.”

  “Letting you in isn’t what I’m worried about anymore,” I say, and it’s the truth. “It’s about surviving after.”

  “You’ll never know unless you take that chance,” he says, and I have to avert my eyes. “I’ve never had anyone in my house before.” I look at him with shock all over my face. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve dated. But here”—he points at the floor—“this is mine, and I wasn’t about to bring anyone in here that I didn’t think deserved to be here.”

  “You’ve known me a week,” I say.

  “And I would have brought you here the day I met you,” he says and then comes to me. “I want to date you, and that means you coming over.”

  “What else does dating entail?” I place my hands on his chest, the feel of his heart beating under my palms.

  “It entails doing stuff for each other,” he says.

  “You don’t need me for anything,” I say.

  “That’s not true,” he says. “If I asked you to do something for me, would you say no?” I roll my eyes, and he laughs. Arm around me, he pulls me in for a hug, and my hands go aro
und his waist. “How about you stay here tonight? Tomorrow, you can get up, go to your place to change, and then pack a bag.”

  “Pack a bag?” I repeat.

  “Well, we are going to have movie night. You can’t just leave during movie night.”

  “Oh my God,” I say, and he leans down.

  “Nope, not God, just me, Justin,” he says and kisses me softly. “Now if we don’t get back out there, Dylan is going to eat my food.”

  He lets me go and grabs my hand. “We haven’t even talked about things.”

  “Later,” he says, and for the first time, I live in the moment and go with it.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Justin

  “Here,” I say, walking back into the kitchen and seeing her wiping her hands. After she agreed to stay, we ate what Dylan left us, which was not that much, and when we cleared the table, he helped, but then he went to watch television.

  “What is that?” she asks, looking at the clothes in my hand as she takes them.

  “It’s stuff to sleep in,” I say. “I mean, unless you want to sleep in your dress,” I point out.

  “Oh, I was just going to sleep naked,” she says. My cock springs to action, and then she throws her head back and laughs. “I’m kidding.”

  “I would not say no,” I say, “but Dylan is here, and if you’re going to be naked, I can’t be trusted.”

  She pushes my shoulder, thinking I’m joking. “You would never,” she says, and I look at her.

  “I would never what?” I lean my hip on the counter. “Climb into your bed while you’re naked and kiss you until you beg me for more?” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Maybe.”

  “I need to take a shower,” she says, “and so does Dylan.”

  “He can take one in the game room,” I say. “You take one in either my bathroom or the bathroom in the spare room.”

  “I’m going to use the one in the spare room,” she says and then looks down at the clothes. “Thank you,” she says and leans up to kiss my chin. I turn my face, and she kisses my lips.

  “We are so going to make out tonight,” I say, and she laughs. “Me, you, and the couch, it’s on.”

  “Wow, I was thinking maybe a bed, but if you want to do the making out on the couch …” She shrugs and walks off. The door to the guest room closes softly, and I try not to think of her in the bathroom naked.

  It doesn’t work, so I walk down the hall to the game room and poke my head in to see that Dylan is on one of the bean bags. “Buddy, shower,” I say to him, and he gets up and yawns.

  “I’m hungry.” I swear this kid is never not hungry. “Can I have a snack?”

  “Yup,” I say, “after you shower.” I walk over to the closet in the room and take out some of mini Cooper’s clothes that he left here last time. “You can wear these.”

  He grabs them and goes to the shower, and I walk back out, heading to my own shower. I close the door behind me and start the water, but my cock has other ideas. I palm my cock in my hand and close my eyes, and her face is all I can think about. Her calling my name, her moaning out my name, and in record time, I’m whispering her name while I come all over myself.

  After I get out and towel off, I slip on my boxers and then shorts and walk out to the kitchen and see that they are both there. “You don’t go in the pantry unless you ask.” I hear her hiss at Dylan.

  “But,” he says as I walk in, “Justin said I could have a snack.”

  “Everything okay?” I ask. She turns around, and I have to take a second to take her in. Her wet hair is piled on her head, she is wearing my shirt which fits her like a dress, and the shorts that I gave her go way past her knees. It’s swallowing her up, yet it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen her wear.

  “It’s fine,” she says. “Go sit and have your snack.” She points at the box of cookies he took out of the pantry. “Um …” she says softly. “Are you going to get dressed?” she asks, and then her eyes fly to Dylan to see if he’s listening or looking, and the kid couldn't care less.

  I look down. “I’m wearing shorts,” I say, and she looks again down and then up, and she avoids looking at me.

  “But a shirt?” she says, and I have to say knowing that she’s a bit turned on by this makes me want to puff my chest out even more.

  “Nah, I’m good like this,” I say, and she just nods. Dylan eats his snack and then drinks a glass of milk.

  “I’m going to bed,” he says, and I walk with him to the back room and set him up with covers and pillow. I pull off the big pillows on the back, and it’s now the size of a queen-size bed. I hand him a huge king-size white duvet blanket and three pillows. “Thanks, Justin,” he says and turns around.

  “If you need anything, call my name,” I say and walk out of the room. I find her in the kitchen putting the dishes away.

  “He’s out,” I say, and she looks over at me.

  “What do you mean he’s out?” she asks.

  “He’s gone to bed,” I say. “I set up the bed for him, and he climbed under the covers and said good night.”

  “But he didn’t even say good night to me,” she says. She walks into the back room and sticks her head in, and the sound of him softly snoring fills the room.

  “He works hard during camp,” I say from behind her. “Harder than any other kid on the ice and it shows.”

  She walks to him and kisses his cheek and then comes back out of the room. “He’s out.” She smiles. “Not even pizza would wake him.”

  “I don’t know about that. He’s probably getting energy to eat again,” I say, and then I turn to walk back to the kitchen, and she stands there. “What do you want to do, Caroline?”

  “Um …” she says. I see her playing with her fingers, and I know that she does that when she’s nervous.

  “Would you be mad if I said I wanted to go lie in bed?” she asks softly, and I just shake my head.

  “Not at all,” I say and then walk to her, and I kiss her lips. “Good night, sweetheart.”

  “Good night, Justin,” she says, and she walks away, going to her bedroom, but this time, I don’t hear the soft close of the door because she leaves it open.

  I grab my phone and walk to my own room. Slipping under the sheets, I turn on the television and put it on SportsCenter. I listen for any noises, and when it finally hits eleven, I turn off my light and fall asleep in record time.

  I don’t know how long I sleep, but when I finally open my eyes, I see that my door is closed, and I hear voices coming from the kitchen.

  I get up and go to the bathroom and brush my teeth, giving my cock enough time to get presentable. “Morning,” I mumble and look at them. She’s in the kitchen cooking while Dylan sits at the island eating.

  “Did we wake you?” she asks, worried. I just shake my head and go over to her and bend to kiss her. “I made coffee,” she says, and I look around.

  “What time did you wake up?” I ask, spotting all the food. There are pancakes and scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage, and some toast.

  “I woke up at around six, and after lying in bed for about twenty minutes, I got up and decided I was going to cook breakfast before I left.”

  “How did you sleep?” I ask, and she grabs her cup of coffee and tries to hide her smile with it.

  “Like I was floating on a cloud,” she says. “It was awful.”

  “I slept like a king,” Dylan says. “There are no lumps in his couch.”

  I try not to laugh and grab the coffee. “With that said, I have to leave or I’m going to be late,” she says. “Do you mind if I take these clothes home and then bring them back tonight?”

  “Nope,” I say, and she smiles, grabbing her purse and going over to Dylan.

  “Be good.” She kisses his cheek, and I grab the keys.

  “Buddy, I’m going to go walk your mom to the car,” I say. “Don’t touch anything unless it’s food.”

  He just nods, and I walk out, following Caroline, who’s waiti
ng for me. “You aren’t going out like that,” she says. “Go put a shirt on.” She points at my door. “I’ll wait here while you go get dressed.”

  I look down. “I am dressed.”

  “No, you’re half-dressed,” she points out. “Now go put the rest of your clothes on, and I’ll wait here.”

  “But …” I start to say, and she hands me her purse.

  “Here, hold this,” she says, and I look at her. “I’ll just give you back this shirt that I’m wearing, and then we can go.” She now leans down and tries to pull up her shirt.

  “I’m going,” I say, handing her back her purse and walking back into the house.

  “Did you go out naked?” Dylan asks me while he chews and pours more syrup on his pancake.

  “Apparently,” I say, jogging back to my room and grabbing the first shirt I see. I pull it over my head, then stop in the kitchen. Picking up the syrup, I look at him. “You need some more pancakes for all that syrup.”

  He just shrugs, and I grab the box and go into the hallway. “There you are,” she says, smiling, and I hand her the box with the phone.

  “You forgot something,” I say and then walk to the elevator.

  “I don’t need it. I’m going to be in the car,” she says.

  “What happens if you have a flat tire or get into an accident?” I ask, pressing the button, and she just sighs. “That is what I thought.”

  “Annoying,” she says, walking into the elevator when it opens. I follow her, but instead of going over, I pull my arms around her shoulder and pull her to me in a hug. I lean down to kiss her, and I smell myself on her.

  “You smell like me.” I smile and smell her cheek and then her neck, rubbing my nose on her the whole time. “I like it.”

  She moves her neck to the side, giving me access to the other side. “It was the only soap in the shower,” she whispers, and I kiss her. My tongue slides into her mouth, and the sweetness of the syrup hits my tongue right away, and my cock springs into action. I push her against the wall, and her hands roam all over the front of my shirt. When the ding of the elevator fills the small space, I almost curse.