Page 40 of Destiny

As usual, I anticipate at least some sexy time, but when she comes into the bedroom, she doesn’t seem like herself. So, I do my best to conceal my already erect penis from her and ask what’s wrong.

She’s rubbing lotion into her hands, and she sits down on top of the comforter. “Nothing.”

Her glazed eyes give her away immediately.

“Please just tell me. Clara used to always play this game with me . . .”

“First of all, don’t compare me to her,” she snaps.

Whoa. “I’m sorry. I just hate having to guess what someone is upset about. I’d rather you just tell me up front.”

“Okay, well. It kind of hurt my feelings when you were talking down about Anthony’s.”

This totally takes me off guard. “What? When did I do that?”

“When you and your mother were talking about Ostrich Francesca or whatever.”

Her mispronunciation is adorable. But I wouldn’t dare acknowledge that or correct her.

“What about it?” I ask.

“You were joking how Anthony’s could never measure up to that place. And it just made me upset. I know Tony and his wife, and they are hard-working people who don’t deserve to have their food compared to some hoity-toity and overrated place. And I’ll have you know, there’s a review online that says Anthony’s is better than the French Laundry. So, there!”

She’s breathing heavily, and her cheeks are red.

“I’m—I’m so sorry. I wasn’t trying to clown them at all. The food was actually very good. It always is.”

Bea suddenly exhales, slaps her hands on the sheets, and sinks back. “I guess I was just self-conscious about looking like some country bumpkin. I’ve never even been out of the country . . . and here you are, someone who was born in an exotic place like Italy.”

I feel so bad that I made our upbringings so apparent—when that was exactly what I didn’t want to do.

She has one of my hoodies on, and the sleeves reach well past her hands, so I grab the extra fabric and pull her to me. Then, I take her long hair and brush it out of her face.

“I’m genuinely very sorry for offending you in any way. I love Hazelhurst. It’s where you and my girls are from.”

“You promise?”

“I promise. Why would I stay here if I didn’t? I don’t have anything—well, now I have you—but I didn’t always have something holding me here. Not after Clara left.”

She sniffles a little and wipes her nose with a sleeve.

Then, I turn on the television, and we cuddle in close.

“I’m sorry again that my mom brought that side out of me. Not that I should hold her responsible, but—”

“Shhh.” She presses her finger against my lips.

And it isn’t long before I feel her left hand dance down my stomach and into the front of my underwear.

“Do you have lube?” she asks, although she already knows the answer, as we’ve used it together on multiple occasions at this point.

“I do.” I reach for the bedside table and get it out.

She squirts it onto her palm and continues what she was just doing. Her fingers are gliding up and down and making me feel like I’m going to bust with each stroke.

It doesn’t take long before I come onto my bare belly.

She smiles. “I’ll get you a paper towel.”

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