has run through my house. I feel like Ethan has the energy of five kids so I can’t imagine there actually being five of him.” I smiles as she talks. It’s so funny listening to her talk about my childhood being crazy because to me, it’s just normal. I can see by the look on her face, by how her eyes light up at the chaos of it all, how crazy it would be to anybody who didn’t grow up like, well, me.
“Yeah, well, my mom’s a special woman. I can’t deny it. She can be the single nicest, warmest person you’ve ever met but trust me, you don’t want to cross her either. What about you though? What kind of childhood did you have that one boy is enough crazy for you?”
She laughs before she answers. “I’m sure my childhood was much calmer than yours. It was just my sister and I, nothing crazy. We grew up in a quiet, organized home. We had fun, but it seems like it might have been a calmer version than yours.” I love her smile, how her face lights up while she’s remembering. “So how did you meet Abby’s mom?”
“High school sweethearts. You know the story. How about you and Ethan’s dad?”
“Best friends in college. One night of fun. You know the story.”
Right as I’m about to say something in response to that, our tour guide announces that it’s time to move on. I realize only now how vague she’s been with her answers. Damn it, learning more about her makes me only want to know her even more...
9 Leah
I think I was relieved when Steve suggested we be friends. Well, mostly relieved. I was a little bit disappointed too. Obviously, “friends” is better - we have to see each other at work and at the kids’ school functions. The kids are developing a friendship I wouldn’t want to harm in any way. I’m so busy with work and Ethan I’m not sure when I’d find the time to be in a relationship. The whole idea of one is kind of terrifying. It’s been Ethan and I for so long I’m not even sure how I would attempt to balance another man in my life.
But no matter how many ways I try to firmly cement Steve into the friend category, no matter how hard I try to only see him like that, I just can’t. I can’t get rid of the image of him between my legs. I can’t get rid of the way he looked like he was barely able to contain himself when I moaned as he slid his fingers inside of me. No matter how many reasons I can come up with for our choosing the friends road being a good thing, it still feels like more than that. I can’t get over how safe I feel with him either, or how sad I felt when I realized I’d hurt him by leaving.
Actually, it’s not just me though. The way he looked at me when I turned from my conversation with Mrs. Withers and saw him standing behind me? That wasn’t a friend look. That was a look that tells me he wants to be inside of me just as much as I want him there. I wonder why he just wants to be friends? I still can’t figure it out, and I don’t know if it’s a good idea to get to know him. I can’t stop thinking about the chat we just had and how all it did was make me want to know him more.
Fortunately, for my sanity I don’t have too much time to think about it because the field trip is soon in full swing and watching my five six year olds is a lot harder than I expected it to be. God forbid any two of them want to go the same direction for more than twelve seconds at a time. Do they serve wine at this museum? I doubt it. What a shame. They’d be billionaires tomorrow because I’m pretty sure the adults all need a glass right now.
If I’m being fair though, it’s not just the kids. It’s the glances Steve keeps making at me, and how giddy he seems when the kids want our groups to stay together because Abby and Ethan are now inseparable. The kids are truthfully a welcome distraction from his green eyes. From his shaggy hair. From the glimpse of
“Yeah, well, my mom’s a special woman. I can’t deny it. She can be the single nicest, warmest person you’ve ever met but trust me, you don’t want to cross her either. What about you though? What kind of childhood did you have that one boy is enough crazy for you?”
She laughs before she answers. “I’m sure my childhood was much calmer than yours. It was just my sister and I, nothing crazy. We grew up in a quiet, organized home. We had fun, but it seems like it might have been a calmer version than yours.” I love her smile, how her face lights up while she’s remembering. “So how did you meet Abby’s mom?”
“High school sweethearts. You know the story. How about you and Ethan’s dad?”
“Best friends in college. One night of fun. You know the story.”
Right as I’m about to say something in response to that, our tour guide announces that it’s time to move on. I realize only now how vague she’s been with her answers. Damn it, learning more about her makes me only want to know her even more...
9 Leah
I think I was relieved when Steve suggested we be friends. Well, mostly relieved. I was a little bit disappointed too. Obviously, “friends” is better - we have to see each other at work and at the kids’ school functions. The kids are developing a friendship I wouldn’t want to harm in any way. I’m so busy with work and Ethan I’m not sure when I’d find the time to be in a relationship. The whole idea of one is kind of terrifying. It’s been Ethan and I for so long I’m not even sure how I would attempt to balance another man in my life.
But no matter how many ways I try to firmly cement Steve into the friend category, no matter how hard I try to only see him like that, I just can’t. I can’t get rid of the image of him between my legs. I can’t get rid of the way he looked like he was barely able to contain himself when I moaned as he slid his fingers inside of me. No matter how many reasons I can come up with for our choosing the friends road being a good thing, it still feels like more than that. I can’t get over how safe I feel with him either, or how sad I felt when I realized I’d hurt him by leaving.
Actually, it’s not just me though. The way he looked at me when I turned from my conversation with Mrs. Withers and saw him standing behind me? That wasn’t a friend look. That was a look that tells me he wants to be inside of me just as much as I want him there. I wonder why he just wants to be friends? I still can’t figure it out, and I don’t know if it’s a good idea to get to know him. I can’t stop thinking about the chat we just had and how all it did was make me want to know him more.
Fortunately, for my sanity I don’t have too much time to think about it because the field trip is soon in full swing and watching my five six year olds is a lot harder than I expected it to be. God forbid any two of them want to go the same direction for more than twelve seconds at a time. Do they serve wine at this museum? I doubt it. What a shame. They’d be billionaires tomorrow because I’m pretty sure the adults all need a glass right now.
If I’m being fair though, it’s not just the kids. It’s the glances Steve keeps making at me, and how giddy he seems when the kids want our groups to stay together because Abby and Ethan are now inseparable. The kids are truthfully a welcome distraction from his green eyes. From his shaggy hair. From the glimpse of
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