Page 52 of The County Fair Queen

I didn't answer, but the smile on my face must have been all the approval he needed.

"Come here," he said, patting his thigh.

"What?"

"Sit in my lap, Firecracker."

"Why do you want me to sit in your lap?"

"How else am I supposed to kiss you?"

I made no attempt to move, but he didn't let that stop him. Sliding one hand around my back, and the other beneath my thighs, he hoisted me off the sofa and positioned me on his lap. His hands explored me freely, like an archeologist excavating areas that had gone untouched for years. When he lifted the sleeve of my shirt, his warm lips slid across my ice-cold skin, his stubble leaving trails of scraped flesh in its wake. When he wedged his hand between my shirt and the skin of my back, his nails scratched smoothly, eliciting a moan. And when he opened his mouth against my neck, his tongue making the briefest of on-camera cameos, I couldn't have willed my erection away if I'd tried. All I could do was arch my back away and pray he didn't notice.

"Kiss me," he said, so low Brenda/Carole had to ask him to say it again. "Phillip," he said, louder this time. "Kiss me?"

Our eyes met, and it was like I was seeing him for the very first time. Like the emotional debts of our childhood had been forgiven, and all that remained was a stunning, perfect, beautifully clean slate. A story that could be rewritten however we saw fit. At that moment, sitting in Rivers' lap, listening to him make the neediest of sounds, I wasn't sure how I wanted that story to unfold. All I knew was Rivers was staring at me like his life depended on this kiss.

I leaned in, saying nothing as he cupped my face. Barely breathing as he pulled me to him. My was dick hard as steel when he tilted my head so the camera couldn't see our mouths. And then, I was more confused than I'd ever been when he stalled, our lips centimeters apart. Heartbroken at the sound of a feigned kiss with no actual connection.

I opened my eyes, dazed at the sight of him. He was just pretending. A stage kiss. And didn't that just sting? Didn't it strike up a feeling of rejection so strong, I didn't know how I'd be able to look him in the eyes again?

He opened his eyes, batting his lashes with a secretive smile, like we'd just gotten away with the perfect crime. Perhaps, we had. Perhaps, that's all this day was. An act. A moment meant to woo and wow the viewers, delivering an endless supply of emotional fulfillment to everyone but myself. I hardened my face as I tried to get back into character.

"We're definitely going to be doing that more often," he said, lightheartedly.

I can't. Not again.

"Yeah," I said, hoping my voice didn't give me away. "You can kiss me whenever you want, Riv."

"Yeah?"

I nodded before burying my face in the crook of his shoulder and tried to will away the stinging sensation of rejection. "I'm yours."

Chapter Twelve

THEY'RE NOT FOOD, THEY'RE FAMILY

The next day, Rivers and I spent the day at his home yet again. When I arrived, Brenda/Carole sat us down and told us there’d been an issue with the audio, and to my horror, she advised us we'd need to reshoot everything. The game of twenty questions. The non-kiss. All of it. For the second time that week, Rivers pretended to kiss me, and I pretended not to be devastated at the lack of physical contact. When it was done, the crew headed out, wanting to film a few scenes with Jordan and my father. I wasn't sure what the hell they wanted to capture, but their absence left me all alone with Rivers, so I didn't object.

We spent the afternoon cuddled up in front of the television. I couldn't explain why I stayed tangled up in his arms. The repetitive non-kiss had been like a sucker-punch to the heart, but try as I might, I couldn't tear myself away from him.

Beau's bus dropped him off later that afternoon, and when he entered the home, he did so with force. The second thefront door slammed loudly against the wall, chaos unfolded around me like an unending twister. Beau flung his backpack on the floor before haphazardly kicking off his shoes and socks. Within seconds, every surface area was cluttered with loose leaf paper and plastic toys. I wasn't even sure where the hell they came from; it was almost like they'd appeared out of thin air. Was this what parenthood was like? Unending mess and an overwhelming sense of confusion clouding your judgment? If so, I didn't particularly care for it.

Somehow, I flew under the kid's radar. He stalked past the sofa, grabbing the remote and aiming it at the television, only to come to an abrupt halt when he saw Lisa Rinna's face frozen on the screen. I hadn't even remembered turning onReal Housewives. I'd just been sitting there in silence, scolding myself for wanting things I had no right to want.

Beau's mouth hung open as he turned and glared at his father. "Rinna," he said, like her name was some secret known only to God and himself. "Oh, my gosh. You're watching my girls behind my back? I've been begging you to watch them with me for decades."

"You're nine," Rivers deadpanned.

"That's not the point," he said, his voice shrill. He looked like he was ready to wage war on the Housewives' behalf. "We're gonna talk about this later. Right now, we've got bigger fish to fry." He slung his backpack off his shoulder and onto the floor, toppling down in front of it with all the grace of a flailing walrus. Reaching inside, he pulled out a slip of paper. "Did you know about this? Don't lie to me, Daddy. I'll know."

"What did I do this time?" Rivers asked, taking the slip of paper and giving it a quick scan. He drew in a long breath, mouthing 'shit' before turning his attention back to his son. "Listen, Beau, it's—"

"I knew it," Beau said before finally noticing me. "Hi Phillip." He offered me a genuine grin that stretched ear to ear. Then, like something out of a horror film, he screwed his face up in anger, snapping his head back in his father's direction. "I knew you were behind it. Dang-it, Daddy. I told you I don't like animal cruelty. How could you do this to me? Is it your way of getting back at me for peeing in the sink yesterday? Only, you were in your bathroom and I really had to go. I would have used the one downstairs, but Fudge was drinking out of it. What the heck did you expect me to do, pee in a bottle?"

I gagged.

Rivers winced. "You peed in the sink?"

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