Page 75 of The Legend Next Door
“I’m almost seven, Dad. I have a wiggly tooth.”
“I know. That’s why you’re playing in the six- to seven-year-old group. And next, you’re going to play eights and nines.”
I look back to see Luca with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He’s looking out the window with his bottom lip jutting out like a sulky cartoon character. He looks so cute and upset I’m sorely tempted to plead with Ben on his behalf. The only reason I don’t is because I know damn well if Ben uses his firm voice on me, I’m toast.
“I’m almostseven,” Luca says again. “In dog years…” His arms uncross and his fingers work as he counts them. “In dog years, that’s like…more thanforty.”
Ben and I glance at each other in confusion.
“But, Luca,” Ben says evenly, “you’re not a dog.”
Luca flings his head back and blows a frothy, pained raspberry designed to let Ben know exactly what he thinks of that answer.
I think next time we play hockey, I might bring along some snacks for Luca. Might bring a seed bar or something like that. A little hit of protein might be what he needs.
God.
I should probably look into what you’re supposed to feed tiny, highly unreasonable hockey prodigies. There might be a recommended diet or something like that.
I’ll google it when I get home.
38
Ben Stirling
Damn,I’mhavingfun.
I’m having a really, really good, top-tier time this week.
It’s Thursday, and Luca has hockey camp, so he’s been out from nine until two every day since Monday. Jeremiah and I have been spending a lot of time together. Alot, a lot.
We’ve been doing a lot of things too—not all the things—but still, enough things that when Amy asked what I’ve been up to without Luca around, I couldn’t think of a single PG thing to say.
I text him as soon as I drop Luca off, and most days, he’s waiting on the swing for me when I get home. Clothes go flying the second I shut the front door. It’s still a giddy, giggling rush every time, but it’s a different kind of giddiness now. I’m not laughing because I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I’m laughing because I’m having so much fun.
We’ve spent hours in bed. Hours. I’ve stroked him off more times than I can count.
Each time I do it, I like it more than I did the last time.
I still have questions about what’s happening between us, and I still feel a vague sense of disbelief when I think about what’s happening in my life, but the questions I’m asking are changing. The answers are too. They’re morphing, metamorphosing every time I see Jeremiah naked.
The main question now isn’twhat am I doing?
The main question ishow did I not notice male beauty before?
Now that I’ve seen it, I can’t understand how I missed it. It’s everywhere. All over Jeremiah. His face, his neck, his hair. He’s gorgeous. His body is gorgeous too. Every time I undress him, I find something new I can’t get enough of.
I spent most of Monday on top of him with his legs wrapped around my waist. His head was arched back, throat exposed, and I must have lost at least an hour kissing him and rubbing my stubble against his. I was addicted to the sound. The soft, raspy scratch. The hardness of the hair on his jaw. The silkiness of the hair on his head.
After a while, I noticed his Adam’s apple. I hadn’t noticed it before. I mean, I’d seen it, obviously, but I’d never noticed it. Not really. I’d never noticed that when it rides up, bobs, and slides down, it might as well be spelling out the wordS-E-X.
I licked it once, just to see what it would feel like on my tongue. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. I didn’t stop until my full body weight was on him and our dicks were grinding against each other. When they touched, something clicked and rendered me unable to think of anything else.
On Tuesday, I told him to undress while I watched. He did as I asked, deliciously nervous and bashful but with an unmistakably horny glint in his eyes. He stood naked, with a hand hovering over his junk.
I said, “On the bed. On your back.”
As he lay down, his hands fell open, palms up, on either side of his head. It was subconscious. A sweet, submissive pose I didn’t ask for, but he gave me all the same.
