Page 56 of Unlovable Player

I’m defiant as I turn around, but Seb isn’t looking at anything in the narrow hallway. Instead, he’s grinning at me. He wags his eyebrows, ignoring my stony expression.

“So your mom’s not home? Where’s your room?”

SEBASTIAN

Austin leads me upstairs to his room, and after dropping our bags at the end of his bed, I step closer to kiss him.

“Woah, what are you doing? She’ll be home any minute.”

“We can be quick, and quiet.”

He holds me at arm’s length. “Don’t you want a tour or something?”

Yes, I absolutely want a tour of Austin’s house. I want to look at everything greedily and find things out about him that no one else knows. I want to read the plaques on those hockey trophies lined up on the shelves. Focus on who’s actually in those posters on the walls and riffle through hisCD – who the fuck has CDs? -collection. But right now, after sitting next to him in a cramped car for five hours, trying not to get hard checking out the shape of his cock in those sweatpants, I want him naked.

I kiss his neck and slide my hand between his legs and he melts.

“Fuck, okay, but quick.”

He closes the drapes and we shimmy out of our clothes, kissing and falling back onto his single bed. Still half-dressed in t-shirts with our pants around our ankles as we start jerking each other off.

Austin’s groan turns me to jelly. He opens a bedside drawer and squeezes some lotion out onto our hands, and the smell is intoxicating. This is what Austin uses to jerk off. The thought of it makes the pit of my stomach fizzle.

Our lips fuse together, though we’re not kissing anymore, just working frantically with our hands.

I hear a car outside, and before Austin can panic, I speed up. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back as he comes. Spilling over my knuckles while I plant kisses all over his neck.

“Fuck Seb.”

He rolls me onto my back and pumps his fist, fast and hard until I lose it.

Seconds later, there’s the sound of a key in the door and we’re jumping up, wiping ourselves off with one of Austin’s old t-shirts.

“Oz, you home?”

We probably look way too flushed and out of breath to be innocent, but the pretty woman standing at the foot of the stairs looks too happy to see Austin to notice.

He bounces down the steps to hug her and I flinch at the thought that she might be able to smell me on him. I watch her face for changes – realization, acknowledgement, anything. But all I see is pure joy as she squeezes him hard with her eyes closed.

“I missed you,” she says, and for some reason, that hits me like a fist. Has my mom ever squeezed me like that? Not since I got taller than her and graduated boarding school.

She remembers they’re not alone, but she doesn’t seem embarrassed to have a witness as she takes me in.

“This must be the notorious Sebastian Huntington.”

Austin flushes, but she’s too busy looking at me now.

I come down the stairs, trying to make myself as presentable as possible. I’ve never had to introduce myself to someone’s mother at the foot of a narrow staircase before. But I can make it work. I hold my hand out and say, “hello ma’am, it’s a pleasure to meet you, thank you so much for welcoming me into your lovely home.”

Her face spreads into a slow, wide smile and wow, she’s stunning. Not like my mom is stunning, with her platinum hair and her discreetly-placed Botox. But with chestnut hair tied haphazardly back and kept in place with visible bobby pins. The slightest of crow’s feet in the corners of her eyes, and freckles dotting her cheeks. She takes my hand in her thin, callused one and says, “so polite,” with a wink to Austin. “You can call me Lisa, and you’re more than welcome,mi casa-” she waves a hand. “And whatever the rest of that saying is.”

“Thank you, Lisa.”

Lisa is still wearing her waitress uniform of a red shirt with big collars and black and white gingham detail, with a black pencil skirt that shows off her svelte figure. Dark pantyhose and comfortable-looking black slip-on shoes.

We follow her into the kitchen, where she opens a drawer full of take-out flyers and tells us to pick something for dinner while she changes out of her dirty clothes.

She squeezes my arm as she passes and, looking right into my eyes, she says, “it’s really nice to meet you Sebastian, I’m glad you’re here.”

---