Page 36 of Secondhand Soul
That shouldn’t be hot. Shouldn’t make him look pretty and dangerous, and light up all my warped senses because the sexy, deadly package treats me with care and respect.
The truth slips out. “I’m not sure how I want it to go, but I liked where it was heading a few minutes ago.”
I DON’T TELL MANNY and Rhea that Victoria and I kissed.
On Monday, they both come to work, and they fuss over Victoria, who hobbles across the office to meet them. I like how she looks at them like people, and only the faintest flash of awe shines in her eyes when she sees how they look.
Like me.
Monday ought to be easy and slow after a long weekend, but it isn’t.
Rhea is in nervous nesting mode. Her words.
Manny jumps and springs across the room like he’s been fired from a cannon every time his phone rings.
It’s never the social worker or the adoption agency. The baby is staying safely tucked away, and that’s good.
When I help Victoria behind the desk, I see Rhea’s calendar. Each Sunday is circled. We just entered the baby’s 23rd week.
If the kid can stay put past Christmas, that would be good. Much better. I read some stuff when I wasn’t thinking about Victoria, and crossing 26 weeks is a big deal.
I wonder how long I took to make. You know, the second time around.
“Laz. I think your guest looks like she could use a break.” Manny is standing next to me as I stare through the small square window that connects the sales, service, and rental office with the garage.
The only woman I’ve ever loved, Rhea, the mother I wish was really mine, is putting her hand soothingly on Victoria’s arm, patting it as she closes the parts catalog. I think of how Rhea mothers me, how she’s turning that same sweet kindness on Victoria, and my heart fills.
I look at how Victoria smiles, and I get dizzy with unbidden lust.
My cock is the thing that fills when I look at her.
“Huh?” I finally answer Manny, tearing my gaze away from the two women I care for most in this rotten world. The mother monster I don’t deserve. The beautiful human woman I probably can’t have.
I realize Victoria shouldn’t have a spot in my thoughts or my heart, but I always break the rules, so I guess this tracks.
“I think she looks tired. I was going to offer to take you two out for a nice dinner at Tiramisu, but they're closed on Mondays, and Victoria looks like she needs to lie down. She’s getting awfully pale.”
“She’s already pale. Pale and perfect,” I murmur.
“Oh. Ohhhh.” Manny’s tone says it all. “She is your type, isn’t she?” he murmurs after a moment. “Now, son. You listen to me. Even if things don’t work out, you might be glad to be her fri—”
“Work out? Nothing needs to work out,” I snap.
“Okay, okay.” Manny holds up one massive, greenish hand. “Whatever you say, Laz. She looks beat, and so does Rhea. I’m taking my woman home. What you do with yours—”
“Stop that,” I snarl, but my tone is soft.
Is your woman the one who kisses you? Who calls you handsome when you know you’re not? Who needs you? Makes you happy and hopeful when she’s around?
“I’ll help her get up the stairs to the apartment and make sure she’s settled for the night.”
Manny smirks. “Sounds good.” The smirk is suddenly replaced with a look I can only describe as acutely uncomfortable. “Laz, has anyone ever talked to you about the, uh, the birds and bees? Not a nature documentary.”
It’s my turn to smirk. “I know how to use my stinger just fine.”
“If you think you’re supposed to sting, we need to talk more,” he cautions, the worried look intensifying.
“I got this, and Victoria and I aren’t doing any birdwatching or beekeeping. Have a good night. Make sure Rhea sleeps. I bet she’s been going nonstop since you guys got back.”
