Page 90 of My So-Called Perfect Life

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“Worst experience of my life,” she continues. “I almost took out the waxer with a head butt, and I’m pretty sure part of my vagina is still attached to the wax. I had to throw in the towel because I thought I was going to puke on her.”

Flashbacks of her throwing up in my office, on me, fill my mind as my chest rumbles with laughter. “I know what it feels like to be on the receiving side of that.”

She swats my chest. “I couldn’t shave for twenty-four hours, and I was going to take care of it here while I changed, but I grabbed the wrong razor from home and couldn’t. I figured,What the hell? Ryan won’t care.”

She’s one hundred percent right.

“I don’t. And for the record, if anyone gets to mess around between these thighs and make you scream, it’s me, and the screams are of pleasure.”

She grins at me with mischief in her eyes. “Oh, don’t you worry; as soon as I get full feeling back in my legs, you’re going to do just that.”

* * *

My hipsache just a bit as I hop off my bike in my parents’ driveway. I probably should have taken my truck, but I wanted to get in a long ride before the temperature starts to drop. But, three hours on the bike after spending the weekend pumping into Danielle wasn’t my best thought out plan. It was oh so worth it, though. Friday night was spectacular. Her dressed as a naughty librarian is what dreams are made of. We spent yesterday just hanging together at my place in between the sex.

Damn, sex with Danielle is absolutely fantastic. No matter how many times we do it, it just gets better and better.

It seems everything with her keeps getting better.

The front door opens, and my mom stands waiting for me with a loving smile on her face. “Happy Birthday, my sweet boy.”

“Hi. Mom,” I say wrapping her in a hug when I reach her. I kiss her cheek and head inside. “How is my favorite lady?”

“I’m good, thanks,” my sister, Teresa, calls out as she meets me in the foyer. “Happy birthday, little brother.”

My sister, with her short wild curly hair everywhere, wraps her arms around my midsection and hugs me tight. “Thanks, Teresa. But you’re my second favorite lady. Mom will always be number one.”

Mom laughs behind me. “I’m going to hold you to that, Ryan. Especially now that you have a lady in your life.”

“Lady?” Teresa says stepping back and looking up at me. “What lady? I didn’t hear anything about a lady.”

“Thanks, Mom,” I say looking back over my shoulder at her. She shrugs innocently before looping her arm in mine, guiding us to the kitchen.

She looks over at Teresa as if I’m not even here. “Your brother brought a lady friend to the house over Labor Day weekend.”

“Did he?” She looks over me to my mother. “How come I’m just hearing about this now?”

They carry on, ignoring me. “I haven’t anything more to give you. But maybe your brother can fill us in.”

I attempt to get out of having the tell them about Danielle. Not because I’m trying to hide her from them but simply because things between us are going so well but I don’t know what any of it means. “Bombarding a man on his birthday isn’t polite.”

I’d thought about asking Danielle to come, but we haven’t discussed meeting the family. I mean, yes, I’ve met her sister, but Amelia is also Danielle’s best friend, so that doesn’t necessarily count. There’s no need to rush this stuff and mess with the vibe we have going, it’s working just fine. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. She hasn’t’ brought up getting more serious or putting labels on anything, either.

Mom crosses her arms over her chest and glares at me with that mom look. “Hiding things from your mother isn’t very nice. I raised you better than that.”

I shake my head and sigh. “I can’t even get dinner before you start in on me?”

“Nope,” Teresa says. “And Mom made eggplant so you better start talking if you want some.”

What the hell? “This is madness. Abusing the birthday boy is not cool.”

The two of them just stare at me and I have no choice but to acquiesce. “She’s a woman I’ve been seeing over the summer.”

“Wow,” my sister whistles. “Over the summer? That’s a few months then. It’s pretty serious?”

Jesus. These two are like a dog with a bone. “It just is. We like each other. We hang out. Things are good. No need for labels and stuff. Don’t go naming your unborn grandchildren, Mom.”