Friday
“Damn, he’s smoking hot,” Garrett whispers vehemently. “Just wait till Cody meets him. I’ll get laid because he’ll be fantasizing about your man.”
I snort. “He is so not my man.”
I motion for him to lug my suitcase onto the bed, and I unzip it, then start hanging up my clothes. I really don’t have much, because I don’t need much. But one thing I do have is clothes. With my love for all things vintage, I buy stuff at secondhand shops most of the time. It’s pretty much all I wear.
“Oh, honey,” Garrett says as he flops back onto my bed and fans his face. “He so has the hots for you.”
I keep hanging up clothes. Garrett snags a thong from my suitcase and twirls it in the air on his index finger. “Someone has a kinky side.”
“Thongs are not kinky,” I scold.
“Mmm hmm,” he hums. He laughs. “I bet Paul is one kinky motherf*cker.”
My face flushes.
He sits up suddenly. “When you finally find out, will you give me all the details?” He looks like a puppy that’s sitting up begging for a treat. He even pants like one.
“Shut up,” I say, but I laugh, too.
“So, how’s this thing going down tonight?” he asks, sobering suddenly.
“When will Cody be here?” I ask.
“He’s stopping to get the beer and pizza, and then he’ll be here. Do you want me to lay one on him when he walks in the door or wait?”
I shrug. “Do what comes naturally.” It’s not like Paul’s not going to know immediately when he sees Cody and Garrett together that they’re a couple. A happy couple that has been together for a really long time.
Someone knocks on my door. “Come in,” I call.
Garrett sits up on his elbow as the door opens. Sam sticks his head in. He scowls at Garrett. “Your pizza’s here,” he says.
“Showtime,” Garrett says, and he rubs his hands together¸ excited. He gets to his feet and follows me into the kitchen.
Paul is watching TV, and he doesn’t bother to get up. I go sit on the couch as Garrett lets Cody in. The two of them stand in the doorway and whisper to each other for a moment. Cody scowls at Garrett and shakes his head. Garrett reaches for him, but he dodges and walks toward us, lowering the pizzas to the end table.
Cody bends over and kisses me on the forehead.
Paul makes a noise that sounds a lot like a growl. He picks up the remote and flips the TV off. “I’m going to bed,” he says. “Good night.”
“Don’t go,” I say. I really, really need for him to meet Garrett and Cody so he’ll understand.
“I’m tired,” he says. He gets up and fakes a stretch, but a strip of his belly shows under his shirt. Garrett makes a noise, and Cody elbows him in the side.
“You didn’t meet Cody,” I say.
“I don’t need to meet anyone else.” He’s kind of cute when he pouts. And kind of annoying.
Cody sticks out his hand, and Paul takes it reluctantly. Cody holds out a beer next. Paul shakes his head. “No, thanks. You guys have fun.”
He goes to his room and shuts the door.
“Well, f*ck,” I say.
Garrett talks around a mouthful of pizza. “You should go get him.” He waggles his brows at me. “Bring him back so he can play with us.”
I walk down the hallway past Sam’s room and stick my head in. “There’s pizza,” I say. He nods at me. He’s on the phone.
I knock on Paul’s door, and he calls out, “What?”
I open the door a crack. “What the f*ck is it with you and that greeting?” I say.
“Did you want a soliloquy?” he asks. He’s lying back on his bed tossing a ball toward the ceiling.
“I want you to come back out and hang with me and the guys.”
“No.”
That’s all I get? “Why not?”
“Why should I?”
“Why shouldn’t you?”
“I don’t particularly care to watch you with your boyfriends.” He keeps tossing the ball.
“They’re not my boyfriends, dumbass,” I say. I shove his legs over and sit down on the edge of his bed. “If you’d come out here and spend some time with them, you’d see that.”
He sits up and moves to the other side of the bed. “I can’t believe you brought them to my f*cking house.”
“Would you zip your f*cking mouth before you dig yourself a bigger hole?”
“It’s my house. I can dig around in it as much as I want.”
He sounds like a two-year-old, and it makes me laugh. Then I snort.
“Which one is your baby’s father?” he asks quietly. He stops tossing the ball.
I shrug. “It could be either one of them.”
He tenses. I can see it in the lines of his body. He’s solid as a rock, all of a sudden. “I don’t like that. Not at all.”
“You don’t understand. If you’d come out there, you’d get it.”
Suddenly, he hooks an arm around me and drags me to lie on top of him. I rest on my elbows on his chest. “I don’t like the idea of you f*cking them.”
“I didn’t f*ck them,” I say. I move like I’m going to get up.
“I’m jealous as hell, Friday, and I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit. So, go and play house with them. Leave me out of it.”
“They’re gay,” I blurt out. I really wanted him to come to the knowledge by himself so he would understand.
“What?”
“They’re a couple. I’m their surrogate.” I lift my fist and knock playfully on his forehead. “Earth to Paul,” I say. “Are you still in there?”
“They’re a couple?” he asks quietly.
“Yes.”
His arms tighten around me, and then he flips us over until he’s hovering over me. He brushes my hair back from my face. Then he does something I never would have expected. He chuckles. It’s a deep belly laugh, and he buries his face in my neck, his body rocking, he’s laughing so hard.
“They’re married,” I say. “And they wanted a baby.” I point down toward my belly. “I wasn’t using my uterus for anything, so I told them they could borrow it.” I lay my palm on the side of his face and bring his blue eyes to meet mine. “Now can you stop being so jealous and come and have dinner with us?”
“You never slept with them?” he asks. His eyes search my face, like he’s looking for the meaning of life.
I shake my head. “I don’t think they’re into vaginas,” I say. “And I kind of have a vagina.”
He grows hard against my belly, his breath blowing hot across my lips. “I kind of like that you have a vagina,” he says. He laughs again, and his nose sweeps back and forth against mine.
“Well, it’s been so long since it’s seen any action that it might be broken.”
“I’ll fix it,” he says quietly. He’s so f*cking intense that I can barely think.
“And there might be a baby in there.”
“When will you know?”
“Nine more days.”
“And if you are?”
“They’re going to be happiest men on the face of the planet.”
“How do you feel about it?” He’s so quiet and direct that it’s almost unsettling.
“It’s like having an empty apartment in the city. Someone should get some use out of it.” I try to laugh, but he’s not laughing with me.
“Do you want kids?” he asks. “Your own some day?”
“No.” I don’t need to think about it; I already know the answer. I do not and will never, ever want kids.
“So, I suppose I should let you up to go meet the men who got you pregnant.” He laughs. “That sounds so wrong.” He kisses my cheek. “All I want to do is kiss you, though,” he says quietly.
“What’s stopping you?”
“There’s beer and pizza,” he says as he lifts himself off me and holds out a hand. I let him pull me up, and I adjust my dress where he messed it up. He motions for me to precede him out the door, but at the last minute, he tugs my elbow and draws me back. “Friday,” he says.
“What?” I ask, breathless with how close he is to me.
“I…ah…I don’t know what to do with all these brand-new feelings for you,” he says quietly.
“Okay,” I breathe in response.
“They scare the shit out of me, but they make me feel hopeful, too.”
“Why me?” I ask.
“Because you’re you,” he says, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.
And therein lies the problem, Paul. I’m me. And that’s all I’ll ever be. The real me—the one he hasn’t met. He’ll probably never see her because it has been a really long time since I’ve seen her myself.