His cheeks turned pink as his eyes fell to his lap, where his thumbs twiddled nervously. “If you want to, I’d like that,” he mumbled softly. “Though it’ll probably seem a bit underwhelming after seeing the seventy thousand that come to watch Colin play today.”
“Don’t do that,” I admonished him with a sharp gaze. “Don’t belittle or devalue yourself, especially when comparing it to what Colin does. Most of the people there today care about one thing and one thing only—the Patriots winning the Super Bowl. They really don’t care who it is who takes them there. They are fans of the team, not any specific player, despite what they’ll tell you today. If Colin were traded to the Jets tomorrow, all of those people who supposedly love him so much would suddenly view him as the enemy and be throwing darts at his face in a pool hall. The only ones who truly care about him will be the people you meet up in the box . . . plus his family, of course.”
He offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound quite as disparaging as it did. So who is it that I’ll be meeting today? Some close friends of you guys’?”
For the remainder of the drive to Foxborough, I told Oliver the story of Colin growing up next door to Seth and Effie and how, even after all three of them went away to college, they all ended up back in Boston, tight as ever—leaving out the obvious part about the guys falling in love and living in the closet for eight years. My stomach turned over—and not in a good way—when he asked a couple of extra questions about Effie, but I convinced myself it was only because I’d told him I was planning to ask her to be my office manager/personal assistant. Though I’m not sure what her marital status has to do with that . . .
I was thankful when we finally pulled into the special parking lot for the families of the players and got out of the car, so I could start showing him around the stadium and stop talking about the Andrews kids altogether. I knew Colin still hadn’t heard from Seth since the Tuesday night blow-up, but when I’d texted him on Saturday to see if he’d be at the game the following day, he said he would, but nothing else. So with that source of tension, Effie’s usual random dramatics, and the addition of a new person to the mix, the day had all the makings of a real doozy.
I glanced up at the scoreboard and silently begged the time to speed up. Nine minutes left in the fourth quarter could lead to thirty in real life, and I wasn’t sure I could make it that long without my ears starting to bleed. Seth had brought a date with him—no doubt a statement to Colin—who had whined non-stop from the moment they’d arrived. It started with her not being able to see the field, so after we’d all shuffled around to accommodate her, she then decided it was too cold and windy in the front row, forcing us all to move back. Then, her drink didn’t taste good, she was a vegetarian and couldn’t eat any of the food, and the latest was heights made her dizzy—an issue she didn’t have for the first two and a half hours of the game!
When she finally excused herself to the back concourse to answer a phone call—another etiquette no-no—I whipped my head toward Seth and glared menacingly.
“What?” he laughed out, acting like he wasn’t equally as annoyed with Whiny Wendy.
“What?! Really?!” I whisper-shouted back at him, looking around to make sure no one could hear us. “What in the hell are you doing? Are we supposed to believe that you really like her? If you’re gonna try and make him jealous, at least make it believable.”
He shook his head with a wicked smirk and continued to play along with his charade. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Roe baby. I do really like Jessie. She’s such a sweet girl. Don’t you think so?”
Huffing, I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. I don’t understand either of you, which is exactly why you deserve each other.”
“It’s over, Monroe. Let it be,” he warned under his breath as he scooted closer to me. “I’ve been tired of it for a while, and he just made my decision easier this week. I love him. You know that more than anyone, but I just can’t do it anymore. I’ve tried and tried, for so many years. And every time I think I’ll be able to change his mind, to convince him that our love is strong enough, but the truth is, it’s not. I deserve better than being his dirty little secret.” Pausing, he turned and peered down at me. “And you deserve better too.”
The truth in his words knotted in the back of my throat, and I swallowed hard, trying to make it disappear. But it didn’t, so he kept on talking.
“It’s Oliver, isn’t it?” he asked, glancing back over his shoulder to where Effie and Oliver had been looking at a Boston coffee table book for most of the second half.
As I had anticipated, Oliver wasn’t interested in the game much at all. He’d paid attention for a while, but when he’d discovered that book at halftime, he’d sat down on one of the sofas in the lounge area to flip through it. Thirty seconds later, Effie had sidled up next to him, pressing her thigh against his and occasionally brushing her breast across his arm when she’d point at something on one of the pages. I’d attempted to join the conversation, but Effie declared that she was showing him all of the places he needed to make sure to visit while he was in town. Then she offered up her own services to take him around town, so I took my cue and left them alone.
“Is what Oliver?” I answered his question with my own, knowing damn well how guilty it sounded.
“He’s the one you guys were fighting about the other night, right?” Seth playfully bumped his shoulder into mine and waggled his eyebrows. “It’s okay, Roe girl. You don’t have to lie to me. It’s written all over your face.”
My jaw dropped. “It is?” I hissed.
Laughing, he ruffled my hair and made the tsk-tsk sound like I’d asked something silly. “Well, maybe not to everyone, but I know you pretty damn well. We’ve been roommates on-and-off for the last three years, ya know?”
“Yeah,” was the only thing I could come up with as my mind swam with an overload of incongruent thoughts.
“It doesn’t make you a bad person to have feelings for someone else,” Seth stated matter-of-factly. “You know that, right? It was bound to happen. I’ve been telling Colin for a while now, but his stubborn ass refused to listen.”
The game at this point was a complete after-thought, especially since the Patriots had taken an early lead and not let off the gas pedal. I hoped Colin wouldn’t look up and see me so close to Seth; otherwise, I knew he’d grill me when we got home, but at the same time, I wanted Seth to keep talking.
“I honestly didn’t think it would ever happen,” I murmured while keeping my face angled toward the field. “I thought that part of me was broken forever, but then Oliver just popped into my life, and in less than a week, I’m starting to question everything about the last twelve years . . . about who I thought I was. I don’t understand it, and it scares me shitless, Seth.”
“People change, Monroe. It’s just a fact of life. There’s no way you can be the same person at twenty-five as you were at thirteen, and there’s no way you’ll be the same person at thirty-seven that you are at twenty-five. There’s no way I can ever even pretend to understand what you went through when you were a kid, so I won’t try to. And I really do understand why you married Colin, and I know in your heart-of-hearts that you believed his companionship would be all you needed for the rest of your life when you agreed to his deal, but I’ll say it again—You. Deserve. More.
“Look, I know it’s scary. And I also know it’s risky as hell. Believe me . . . I know better than anyone.” He chuckled, but there was no humor in his voice. “You ask yourself, ‘Why would I give up this perfect life that I’ve worked so hard for? Why risk it all for something that could or couldn’t amount to something worthwhile and significant? Why take that chance?’ And I’ll tell you why. Because you’re worth it, Monroe. You deserve to know what it’s like to be loved fully, on the inside and the out. You deserve to have someone who worships your body just as much as they adore your pure heart and wicked-smart mind. Don’t settle. Don’t short-change yourself fr
om the life and love you deserve to have, all because of some fucking sick asshole from your childhood. All you’re doing is allowing him to keep you as his victim. Why give him that power?”
By the time he finished, my eyes were pooling with unshed tears and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hug him or slap him. Everything he’d said was exactly what I needed to hear, yet everything I never wanted to. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to do either as Rude Ruth rejoined us, naturally complaining about the cellular service in the stadium. In desperate need of a few minutes alone, I excused myself to the ladies’ room, where I splashed water on my face and stared intriguingly into the unfamiliar eyes that gazed back.
Colin had called me meek and compliant. Seth claimed I was settling and content at playing the role of a victim. And though I didn’t know much about what was happening with me, I knew I didn’t want to be any of that.
And I also knew who made me feel the exact opposite of all those things when I was with him.
My Sandra Dee.
“I sleep
with the wolves
in my head
and wake up in
my own blood
we love the
things that
kill us”
–Christopher Poindexter
Oliver
THE NEXT SEVERAL weeks passed in the blink of an eye. When Monroe and I weren’t conducting interviews for the dozen or so positions we needed to fill, we were meeting with Dr. Prince, the executive director at the DCF, and filling out all of the necessary legal documents for us to begin the placement proceedings for JoJo, Heather, Aaron, and Alex in the state courts. In addition to our working effortlessly together, a true friendship formed between us with natural ease.
Once I convinced Iron Chef Dick that he wasn’t going to get dipped, dunked, or even drizzled, I managed to keep my lustful thoughts to a minimum and was able to focus on Monroe the Woman, instead of Monroe the Sex Goddess. Though I did still look forward to casual Fridays and the way those damn jeans clung to her perfect curves. And how on the days we’d have a bowl of Peanut Butter Captain Crunch with chocolate milk for lunch, she’d slurp down the sweetened milk off her spoon, causing my eyes to hone in on the way her sweet, pouty lips wrapped around the bulbous shape—okay, who was I kidding? I was so fucking gone for her it wasn’t even funny, and getting to know all of her little quirks, likes, and dislikes only made me want her more. My one-way ticket to the fiery pits was punched.
Effie had accepted the office manager job Monroe offered, and although she wasn’t officially supposed to start until we moved into the house at the beginning of December, she claimed she wanted to get a jumpstart on learning her responsibilities and how the system worked, so she began showing up at the apartment two to three days a week, which led to an extremely cramped working environment. One where I couldn’t openly flirt with Monroe—nothing too outrageous, of course, just a little roguish teasing here and there—and instead, had to spend my time fighting off advances from the tiny blonde firecracker who had apparently never been told ‘no’ before. Naturally, Monroe thought this was hilarious and loved to give me hell about it anytime Effie wasn’t around. If she only knew . . .
Before I knew it, the entire month of October was almost behind us, and one of my favorite holidays was fast approaching—Halloween. As much as I loved my family and the big holiday dinners and celebrations they had at Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, it was Halloween that I had really grown to enjoy as an adult. When I was a kid, sure it was fun to dress up and go out trick-or-treating, but my mom usually threw away over half of the candy, claiming she’d have to pay for all my teeth to be filled and capped if I ate all of it. So when I went away to college and experienced my first Boos and Booze party at my fraternity, I was like a kid in a candy store—a store where I could eat as many pieces as I wanted. The word ‘Boobs’ definitely should’ve been added to the name, because I saw and touched more tits that night than I’d seen in eighteen years of living with a mom and three sisters. Even the dorky little freshman I was, with my Dracula costume on, I became someone else for the night, and I was offered plenty of necks to suck on. It was safe to say I was a big fan, and for the next three years, I was the chair for planning that party.
Even after university, I’d rent out a private room at a bar or club and throw a huge Halloween bash for me and my friends, viewing it as my one big party-like-a-rock-star night of the year. But with me being in Boston and only knowing a handful of people in the city, I was a little bummed out I wasn’t going to be able to celebrate like I normally did. So when Danny—the owner of Riff’s, the jazz bar I’d started playing at—asked me if I could help him put something together last-minute for a Friday night event, I jumped at the opportunity.
In less than a week, the hero-and-villain themed party was planned and being blasted all over the place with flyers and radio ads. Whenever my work day with Monroe (and sometimes Effie) ended, I’d hit the streets to either help promote the event or to practice with a few of the other musicians who played at the bar, as we were working on a few special collaboration pieces that we planned to debut at the big bash.
I never mentioned the party to Monroe, because I didn’t want her to feel obligated to come. I knew she was taking the kids trick-or-treating early in the evening, and even though the thing at the bar didn’t start until nine, I also knew she wasn’t much of a partier or a night-owl. When she’d come to watch me play my first show at the club, she powered through until the very end, but the next morning while sitting across the table from me, she yawned continuously and even nodded off a couple of times. I’d felt terrible that she was so tired because of me, but at the same time, I was so fucking thrilled that she’d come to see me and truly seemed to love it.
I didn’t bring up the party to Effie for obvious reasons. The last thing I needed was for her to get the wrong idea, and to be honest, I was kind of looking forward to a night where I could just let loose and channel a little of my still-young-at-heart Oliver, without worrying about having to act a certain way or be on my best behavior. I didn’t have specific plans to bring anyone home with me that night, but if it happened, it was safe to say I wouldn’t have minded. It had been a long time since I’d been with anyone but my own hand, and it was apparent that my feelings for Monroe weren’t ever going to go anywhere but where they were—safely in the friend-zone. Which is exactly where they needed to stay.
“Hey, man, you ‘bout ready to get this shindig going?” Danny asked as he joined me in the back office of the bar, where I was securing the last piece to my Batman costume—the black mask with bat ears. “We’ve actually got a line down the street waiting to get in.”
I took one last glimpse in the mirror then turned around to face him in his Captain America suit, my smile uncontainable. “Absolutely! You unlock the doors and I’ll get the guys up on stage. Let’s do this.”
Chuckling, he shook his head. “I still can’t believe you got this all organized. What am I gonna do next year when you’re gone?”
“No need to worry about that now, Capt’n. Your only concern should be to rid this city of evil,” I grinned slyly as I exited the office, “and make sure you bring all the real naughty ones here.”
He roared with laughter as he moved to open the front doors, and as promised, I rounded up the other guys and we grabbed our instruments, taking our places on stage. With the very first note of music that rang out, the party took off full-steam ahead, and within minutes, the place was jam-packed with people drinking, dancing, and having a ball. As costumes were required for entry, I thoroughly enjoyed scanning the room and seeing what everyone had on—particularly the scantily clad women dressed up as Catwoman, Wonder Woman, Supergirl, and a few others I didn’t recognize, but would’ve been eager to investigate more closely.
The opening set lasted for nearly an hour, and by the time I set my sax down on its stand and went to join the crowd, I was hot, clammy, and in dire need of a cold adult beverage
. Batman may have been one cool-ass superhero, but his get-up was not made for performing on a stage under a bunch of spotlights.
Slinking my way through a room full of writhing, sweaty, half-dressed bodies, I finally reached the bar, where Spiderwoman—a.k.a. Sheila the bartender—had a Crown-and-seven waiting for me. I thanked her and flashed one of my best smiles before turning around to peruse the crowd once again. I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to take my chance with an earth-saving heroine, or explore my wicked side with an impish villain.
Luckily, I didn’t have time to make the hard decision for myself because before I could even make it halfway through my first drink, a busty brunette Batgirl approached and grabbed hold of my wrist. Lifting up on her tiptoes to talk to me over the noise, she pressed her overflowing cleavage against my bicep and winked. “You were awesome up there! You really know how to use your mouth and fingers, don’t you?”
I forced a laugh at the unoriginal pick-up line, because . . . well, because I was pretty sure the top of her nipples were peeking out over the black leather cups of her outfit, and I’m a guy who likes nipples, especially on attractive twenty-something-year-olds. Sue me. “I may know my way around the body,” I smirked smugly and took a drink then leaned down and whispered, “of a finely-tuned instrument.”
As I figured, she giggled at my corny one-liner and batted her fake eyelashes. “I bet you do, Batman. Or would you prefer I call you Bruce Wayne?”
“I prefer Batman as long as I’m in the suit,” I replied as I playfully flexed my muscles.
Scratching her black-tipped nails across my chest, she purred into my ear, “So I’ll get to meet Bruce later?”
“That’s a possibility,” I laughed after downing the last of my cocktail. “You want something to drink?”