Page 101 of Chasing Blue
Jack worshipped me last night.Never in my life have I felt a connection to a man like I do to him. After he fed me, he danced with me, then he took me home and fucked me. After showering, he made love to me, and right now, he’s leaning in my bedroom doorway wearing a white singlet and jeans. His arms are raised as he holds onto the door frame, and the front of his hair has flopped forward, curling over one brow.
He looks delicious, the only downside . . . he’s refusing to come back to bed. Instead, he’s standing there looking all kinds of fine, ordering me to get up, shower, eat, and get myself ready for my mum’s celebration of life.
All of which has me feeling guilty at wanting to spend the day riding first his face, then his cock into my next orgasm.
My mouth literally waters as I think of the things we did to each other last night, and I have to swallow. I notice the flash of interest in his eyes, so I add a slow brush of my tongue over first my top, then my bottom lip, leaving them slightly parted when I’m done licking.
“I know what you’re doing, Blue,” he says with a headshake. “I’m right there with ya, babe. Ready, willing, and available to do all those things you’re thinking about me doing, but not right now. Right now, you need to get up. You need to shower, and you need to eat. We have a big day ahead.”
“You’re no fun,” I complain.
“I’m all the fun you’re ever gonna need, but right now’s not the time for fun, so get your arse up.”
Like a petulant child, I do as he says and stomp my way towards the bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it behind me. I’m not mad. How could I be? He’s treated me like a queen, and I couldn’t love him more for keeping me on track today.
Love him more.
Is that really what’s happening here?
He said he’s falling and admitted to wanting more. Am I? Is it possible to feel so much in such a short space of time? Is this just all the old feelings for him resurfacing, or did they never go away? Can you hold on to love that long? Keep on loving someone who’s not even been in your life for so long?
All of this churns through my mind as I wash my hair under the shower, deciding to put all thoughts of what’s happening between me and Jack away for another day. A day when I’m not burying my mother.
* * *
Because we’re holdingthe service at the funeral home not a church, and the home is only down the street from Foamies, where we’ll gather to remember Mum after, we decide to walk from Asher’s.
I asked everyone attending to wear something shiny or glittery, anything that would remotely acknowledge my mum’s love of all things disco.
I’d managed to find a pair of flared black pants at our local Target, which I’d paired with black wedges and an emerald-green satin blouse, both of which I’d found in our local op shop. I had a black silk scarf tied in my hair, and large hoops in my ears.
From somewhere, Jack had found black shirts with big collars—Saturday Night Fever style—for him, my dad, and brother, and they’d each paired them with a pair of black pants. They’d left the top couple of buttons undone, showing off just enough chest not to be deemed indecent for a funeral.
My dad and Asher walked in front of me and Jack, who had a tight grip on my hand.
The four of us were silent as we walked along the driveway towards the large white building at the end.
I’d been focusing on the gravel drive, and not twisting my ankle on my wedges, when I looked up at the sound of voices and came to an abrupt halt.
My dad and Asher stepped aside, allowing me to take in everyone before me as their chatter quieted.
Nearly everyone I knew from our small town was there, including Scott and Nate, but it wasn’t them that had me struggling to breathe and hold back the tears, it was Zoe, her parents, Spangles, Anthony, Shannon, Finn, and who I assumed was Jack’s sister Amelia.
Every one of the boys is wearing an almost identical outfit as Jack, my dad, and brother. The girls are all in their disco finest.
I don’t even attempt to fight the shake in my voice or the way my lips tremble as I whisper, “How?”
“They’re the calls I had to make,” Jack says quietly from beside me. “I hope you don’t mind me . . .”
“No,” I cut him off as I turn towards him. “No, not at all. Thank. Thank you so much.”
He pulls me into him, kissing the top of my head. “There’s more, and I really hope you’re okay with this. That it doesn’t piss you off or add more pain to your day because that’s the last thing I wanted to do.”
He steers me towards the front of the building, to where my friends wait to greet me with hugs and kisses, and there, when we walk inside the funeral home, right next to the white coffin we picked for my mum, is a tiny, identical coffin in pink.
“You said they made you feel like she didn’t exist, so now we’ll say a proper goodbye and make sure everyone that needs to, knows about her,” Jack says from beside me, Asher on my other side as they both hold on to me, stopping my legs from giving out.
“How?” I ask on a sob. “How’d you do all this?”
