Page 49 of Teach Me
“I really like you, too, baby.”
We said it frequently to each other, lately. So frequently that I wondered, sometimes, if Grady was like me, a tongue slip away from “like” turning into “love.” Sometimes the way that he gazed back at me, as he did then, made me think he was.
And I didn’t know what the fuck we were gonna do about that. So like the other things I was trying not to think about, that, too, got shoved into a far corner of my mind.
“Can you dance at all?”
Grady echoed my lazy laughter and sealed his chest to my back when I rolled over, fingertips drifting along the length of my flank. “I can dance, goddammit. I’ll show you sometime.”
“Promise?”
“No.” And then, after a beat of silence, came, “Yes.” His hand moved lower, sliding behind the waistband of my pajama pants. “I love when you make that noise.” The words spilled across the back of my neck as my breath hitched.
“I love the way you touch me,” I managed as he gripped my base and stroked me slowly to hardness. “Reminds me of the first time you ever touched me.Fuck,”I ground out in a harsh whisper as he squeezed.
“Pull your pants down.”
I scrambled to comply. Cool air washed over me as Grady peeled back the covers far enough to slip beneath. Wet heat enveloped my cock, and my hand tangled in the strands of his hair as he sucked me, slow and intense, until I spilled into his throat with a quiet moan, limbs boneless, and me satisfied in every way possible.
Pressureon my chest had my eyes popping open the next morning, and in my bleary, dream-addled state, what I’d thought was a rock turned out to be Hardin peering down at me from his perch on my chest.
“Hey, little man,” I mumbled groggily, cutting my eyes aside to find Grady still asleep. God, was it really morning? My body was heavy with both post-orgasmic satisfaction and the stubborn remnants of sleep.
“Morning,” the boy chirped, bouncing on my chest with a toothy grin that made my heart squeeze. He seemed unfazed by my morning breath. “Do you like waffles?”
I tried to sit up without dislodging him, a delicate operation. “I love waffles.”
“With toppings?”
“What toppings?” I narrowed my eyes at him.
“All toppings. Did you know Uncle Grady once ate so many waffles he threw up on the floor?”
I ruffled his hair as he slid onto the mattress. “Maybe we shouldn’t give him any waffles, then. What do you think? Maybe I can eat his.”
“I was five. Cut me some slack.” Grady groaned as he rose up on an elbow and rubbed a hand over his face. He was somehow both adorable and sexy as fuck in the morning, I was learning. A pang of sadness hit that the last few days were likely the only ones I’d ever get to experience mornings like this with him. Soon enough, it’d be back to the cafe and classes.
“I’m five, and I’ve never thrown up waffles.”
Grady chucked Hardin under the chin. “There’s still plenty of time before you’re six. Want to go give it the old college try? Your mother will be delighted, I’m sure.”
Hardin squealed as Grady tickled him while I rolled fully upright and put my feet on the floor. Despite the aggressive awakening, I was ready to get the day started, hell-bent on savoring all the time I had with Grady while I could.
24
GRADY
Deanna, my sister’s oldest, had a soccer match that morning, which we all attended after a waffle breakfast. No one threw up, but I’d stuffed myself enough that I’d finally had to push my plate away, gleefully serenaded by Hardin singsonging, “Uncle Grady’s gonna blow chunks!”
After the game, Cameron and I decided to walk around the quaint downtown and investigate the shops and cafes lining the streets. As we walked, I slipped his hand in mine, threading our fingers, and the beatific smile he gave me almost had me stopping to embrace him in the middle of the sidewalk. Because I’d invited Cameron with me on a whim, I’d had no time to anticipate how it would play out, how content I would feel walking around in the open with him, the freedom to slide an arm around his back or waist whenever I wanted to. There’d been more than a few times on campus, in the classroom, or at the cafe when I’d had to fight to keep myself in check, fight not to pull him close, kiss his jaw, touch him in some way.
“Did you and your ex ever talk about having kids?” Cameron peered sidelong at me. “I know that’s not a polite question, sorry.I’m just curious because you’re so good with them, and it’s easy to see your sister’s kids adore you.”
I smiled, glancing at our interlinked hands and then back to him. His questions, while raw and unfiltered, never seemed to come from a place of malice or to stir drama or upset me. They were simply an innocent manifestation of his curious nature, and I loved that. “Yes, we talked about it. But it seemed we were always off on our timing.”
“Off how?” His blue eyes studied me thoughtfully.
“I wanted to try immediately after we got married, but Laura was pursuing her career aggressively and was afraid having a kid would set that progress back. She was likely right. And then, by the time things were stable on her end, I was writing the dissertation that would end up becoming my book. I was hyperfocused on it and my career and couldn’t imagine the responsibility of a child in the midst of that. Things had already started fracturing between us, and then we found out I had fertility issues, which added another layer of stress.”