Page 20 of Too Good to Be True

Seth

O n the fourth ring, Rowan’s voice steals the breath from my chest.

“Hey,” he says simply, as if he’s proposing a night of lust and madness in his bed.

Or, rather, in mine.

“Hi. How’s everything at home?” I ask, as if it’s something we share. And deep down, I feel the same way.

This is all kinds of wrong.

“Everything’s fine. We just finished dinner.”

“What did you eat?”

“I cooked some pasta with vegetable sauce.”

“Really? And did the kids like it?”

“They were hungry, I think.”

I laugh, slowly.

“I left you a plate in the oven.”

I touch my chest instinctively. “That was really thoughtful.”

“It was a kids’ idea,” he says quickly.

My hand slips from my chest, as desolate as I am.

“I invited Paul. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all. I like Paul.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Not in that way.” I chuckle nervously. “Not that he’s not an attractive man, in fact…” I’m making it worse. “Let’s just say he’s not my type.”

I finally close my mouth, waiting for the question I hope will come, but it doesn’t happen.

“He is teaching the kids how to play Blackjack. I’m sorry. It’s a bad influence.”

I sigh quietly, hoping he can’t sense my disappointment.

“Don’t worry. Mr Yang already taught them how to play Poker.”

“They didn’t mention that.”

“Watch out for Logan. He counts the cards.”

“I suspected that.”

“Are the kids giving you a hard time?”

“No more than I expected. They are well behaved kids.”

“Their parents have done a good job.” Sadness creeps into my voice, but I don’t let it take over.

“So did you.”

A different feeling is now stirring inside me, and I’m unsure if I can control it.

“You’re… nice to say that.”

“It’s the truth.”

It’s important you think so, perhaps too much for me, so I decide not to say it out loud.

“How is the night? I don’t hear any music in the background or any chaos.”

“I went outside to call you. The night is busy and crazy.”

And I really hope no one outside is taking pictures to share, or I’ll be in even more trouble.

“But…” I add, with the fear that I have almost no right to. “…I can’t wait to come home.”

The awkward silence that follows my audacious statement almost stops my pulse.

“I’ll wait for you.” From the other side comes a hope I should not cling to.

“Do you have to work?” I ask, my voice shaking.

“No.”

I almost let the phone slip from my fingers.

“O-okay,” I reply, nervous. “I’ll try not to be late.”

“Don’t worry.”

I don’t know how to hold him more on the phone, so I just let him go.

“See you later, then.”

“See you later, Seth.”

I end the communication with my heart racing, my phone pressed against my chest, my eyes closed, my dreams turning to hope and…

“What are you doing out here?”

And then my friend brings me back to a harsh reality.

“I was… er… calling home.”

“Mr Yang is wonderful with children.”

“Yes, Mr Yang.” I clear my throat. “He’s not the one with the kids tonight. Poker night, you know.”

Ross gives me a questioning look.

“Rowan offered to stay with them. I actually asked him for a favour and he was so helpful…”

“Oh yeah?”

“Please don’t say anything.”

“I wish I didn’t have to, believe me.”

“I don’t believe you at all.”

“And you should because I want to talk and I will.” Ross stands in front of me, hands on his hips and eyebrows raised. “I’m worried. Very worried.”

“Rowan is doing very well.”

“I’m sure of that. I don’t think there’s anything that man can’t do. I’m worried about you.”

“I don’t understand why.”

“Really?” He fluttered his false eyelashes several times. “Shall I give you a detailed list?”

“Perhaps a summary…”

“I’m afraid you might get hurt. Again. We know how it goes every time.”

“This is not the case.”

“It looks like one of those cases to me.”

“He’s my lawyer. I can resist his charm.”

Ross gives me a knowing look.

“For the kids. I can do it for them.” I can get past his abs, which, by the way, I got a good glimpse of when he slipped into the bathroom shirtless. I can ignore his sculpted ass, his strong arms, his captivating eyes—oh God, those eyes!—along with everything else.

For the kids. Like I just told Ross.

I can do anything for them.

I QUIETLY INSERT the key into the lock and open the door.

After closing it behind me, I take a few steps toward the living room.

When the dim light from the lamp on the shelf suddenly illuminates the room, I can’t help but smile with all my face and possibly with the rest of my body, as if I hadn’t just promised my best friend a few hours ago that I wouldn’t get involved and wouldn’t lose my head over my seemingly too-all-to-be-true lawyer.

“Hello,” he greets me, his voice warm.

“Did I wake you?”

He denies slowly. Another smile comes from me, a barely perceptible one from him.

“How was your night?” I ask.

Rowan shrugs off the blankets and gets to his feet. He wears sweatpants and a tight T-shirt, too tight not to invite my eyes to take a good look at his marble pecs.

“I survived.”

I laugh. Rowan approaches. He remains a step away from me; his eyes scanning my face intently. He lifts a hand, his thumb caressing my cheekbone.

“You’re still covered in glitter.”

“Maybe I didn’t remove my makeup properly. I was in a hurry and?—”

Rowan tilts his head to study me more closely. It’s as if he can read in my eyes the overwhelming urge I now feel to kiss him and lie on top of him on our temporary bed.

“In a hurry?”

In a hurry to get back to you. I needed to know if you would really wait for me like you said. I was eager to feel those butterflies in my stomach at the sight of you and hear your voice whispering in the dark like the other night.

Oh God. I can’t even think of such things!

The kids, I remind myself. The only thing that matters at this moment and in all the moments to come.

I shrug for no reason. Rowan finally takes a step back and lets me get some air that doesn’t smell so much of him.

“If you’re hungry, there’s a plate for you in the oven.”

“I’m starving. The night was so hectic that I didn’t have time to put anything in my stomach.”

I pass him and head for the kitchen, hoping to catch my breath for a few minutes, but Rowan follows me.

“I can keep you company if you want.”

“You don’t have to.”

This time he shrugs.

Tell him, Seth. Tell him to go to sleep. Tell him to stay away if he doesn’t want this to get a lot less fake in a few moments.

“Do you want to share it with me?” I ask him instead, taking the plate from the oven and showing it to him.

“No, thank you. I never eat at night.”

“I only eat too late too often.” I stick the plate in the microwave and start it up.

Then I open the fridge and pull out a beer.

I show it to him, he declines. I uncork it and set it on the table, then retrieve a fork, a napkin, and the plate from the microwave.

I sit on the table, plate in hand and hungry as hell, while Rowan stands, still in the doorway.

“You’re not going to stand there and stare at me while I eat, are you?”

I stick my fork into the plate. I lift up a good portion of pasta.

“I have something to tell you.”

I swallow the first bite, which immediately turns bitter.

“Are you worried already?”

“Have you heard your tone?”

“It’s the only tone I have.”

I let go of the plate and sigh. “Shoot.”

“They’ve set the date for the first hearing.”

“OK.”

“It’s in two weeks.”

I nod slowly.

“We don’t have much time to prepare.”

“And…”

“And to decide. The judge will want assurances before then.”

“Assurances…?”

“Of our commitment.”

“Oh…”

“I thought we should set a date, you know, in case we are asked. And that we should provide evidence of our relationship.”

“He doesn’t want pictures of us sleeping together, right?”

“No, but pictures of us in poses… Affectionate… And with the kids, of course. Those would be useful, too.”

“I don’t think that’s difficult, do you?”

“And you should add my name on your utility bills. Electricity, gas…”

“Sure. I can call tomorrow.”

“Perfect.”

“Anything else?”

“We should talk.”

“Haven’t we already?”

“About us. In an… intimate way.”

That word sneaks up on me without any sense of decency.

“What… do you mean?”

“We should share details about ourselves. Habits, preferences.”

I hope you don’t mean sexual preferences, because this could get really intimate in less than a second.

“Past events, fears, dreams.”

I can’t help thinking that I’d really like to know more about him, not just from a physical point of view. I’d like to know what he was like as a kid, and how he turned out so well. When he decided to become a lawyer, and why he cares so much about us.

“I have no secrets. There is no problem for me”

He nods slowly.

“But for you…”

“I’m not used to talking about myself.”

“I understand that. And if you don’t want to?—”

He shakes his head. “We have to do it. For the case.”

“I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, or worse, have your privacy violated because of me.”

“I just… I just need…”

I stand up and walk towards him. I take his hands and lift them with mine. “I’ll go easy on you, I promise. And if at any point you feel uncomfortable…”

“Thank you.”

“It’s me who should be thanking you. For everything you do.”

“Don’t think about it now. Just eat your pasta.” His hands slip from mine. “I’ll wait for you in bed.”

I swallow that word, along with my unrealistic expectations.

“Don’t forget, I get the chair tonight.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to sleep apart.”

“Nobody would know about that.” I try to play it down to get out of this situation, which could escalate into a visible problem in less than three seconds.

“We need to get comfortable with each other. To get familiar.”

“And you think sleeping together will help?”

“We’ll soon find out, I suppose.”

God, help me. I never believed in you, but this might be the perfect time for an official denial.

“DO YOU WANT to start?” I ask him after slipping under the sheets.

I stay on the edge of the sofa bed, not wanting to take up any of his space or force him to get too close.

Rowan is quite fit, let’s say well built, unlike me.

I don’t sleep with anyone very often, in fact, I haven’t been with anyone lately.

Since the kids have been with me, I have spent every free moment with them.

It’s happened in the club a few times, but nothing serious and too…

er… forward. Some kissing, some touching in the hallways to the toilets. Nothing more.

I shouldn’t be thinking about touching and kissing now that I’m in bed with Rowan, I know, but how can I take my mind off it?

“You can ask me anything. I have no filter and I am not embarrassed to talk about myself. You will always get the truth from me.” Better to get straight to the questions. Maybe I can distract myself from my impure thoughts.

Rowan lies on his back, his hands on his stomach, the sheet pulled down to his hips.

“If you prefer, I can go freely.”

He turns his head towards me. “I’m sure you can.”

I turn, too. Our eyes lock in the darkness, feeding on the comforting silence we now share. I could spend hours staring into his eyes, imagining what they hide, what they dream.

“Let’s start with something simple.” I decide to break the ice, not wanting Rowan to feel uncomfortable. “Tell me what your favourite food is.”

“Chicken salad.”

“Please. Chicken salad is nobody’s favourite food.”

He laughs, thankfully.

“I didn’t ask you what you like to eat to stay in shape, but what you love, what you crave in those moments when all you need is comfort and warmth.”

“I love stew. Made with Guinness.”

“Really?”

“It reminds me of my childhood.”

I want to ask him about it now, but I don’t want to take that step, not tonight.

“The smell that fills the kitchen…” He sighs and closes his eyes.

I have to restrain my desire to caress him and hold him, even though I know he needs it. I sense it is not what he wants.

“And do you ever allow yourself to have that?”

“Once a year. On my birthday. There’s a pub near my place. I take it there and eat it at home.”

“Do you have a favourite cake?”

“White chocolate and raspberry.”

“I love it! I also like the white chocolate and raspberry muffins. My favourite, I think… Yes.”

“We have something in common.”

“Strange, isn’t it?”

“Not so much. I’m sure if we dig deep, we’ll find more things to share.”

Apart from this perfect moment?

I don’t think I’ve ever had anything like that in my life. Even if what we have is fake, this moment is not.

And I intend to make it mine and keep it with me, even when everything else is over and we are just a faded memory in a mind that has inevitably moved on.

No one will take this moment away from me, nor the emotions I feel, the sense of peace that his voice gives me, and the desire to wake up tomorrow morning with his eyes lighting up the new day ahead.