Gentleman Nine

  “Typical would be what I would say, yes. That’s the thing about autism. You can’t necessarily tell by looking at someone that there are any developmental issues. It’s only when you try to interact with them that you realize it. In Milo’s case, he’s child-like, even though he’s close to our age.”

  “Wow. That’s perplexing and fascinating at the same time.”

  When we returned to the living room, Milo was no longer paying attention to the television. In fact, he had turned it off altogether. Instead, he was playing around on an iPad.

  “What’s he watching?” I asked.

  “He likes to watch YouTube.”

  I sat down next to him on the couch and leaned in. He was looking at clips from the show Archer. It was some kind of montage.

  “That’s a cool show,” I said.

  Apparently, my giving him that little bit of attention served as his cue to wrap his arm around me, once again pulling my head into his face. His nose felt like a vacuum atop my head. Closing my eyes, I let him do it, as uncomfortable as it was allowing a grown man my age to cradle my head and sniff me.

  Amber chuckled. “He’s definitely motivation to keep my hair smelling fresh and clean, but I feel like I’m not competition for you at this very moment.”

  When he finally let me go, I noticed that he was looking at the iPad screen then back at me. He kept doing this over and over.

  “What’s up?” I asked him.

  Amber chimed in, “I think he thinks you’re Archer. He’s done this to me and other people.”

  “That’s why he’s watching it? He thinks I’m the character?”

  “It’s possible. I’ve seen him do that before.”

  “Who does he think you are?”

  “Daria from that old MTV show.”

  That cracked me up. “It must be the bangs.”

  “Anyway, we were about to head back out to get some dinner,” she said. “Would you want to join us?”

  Watching Amber with Milo was actually really fascinating. It was an entirely different side of her life that I’d never gotten to see. So, I took her up on her offer.

  Amber held onto his hand as the three of us walked down the street.

  “Do you always hold his hand like that?”

  “I don’t have to, but it gives me a feeling of security. He’s been known to suddenly run if he gets excited about something. It’s not worth the risk. And he doesn’t mind holding my hand.”

  People must have thought I was the third wheel as we strolled through Quincy Market, one of Boston’s biggest tourist attractions. Milo was twice the size of Amber. No one would have ever guessed by looking at them that her number one job was to keep him safe.

  After we stopped for Greek food—Milo’s favorite—we browsed through some of the vendor carts surrounding Faneuil Hall. Milo pulled Amber toward a woman who was selling hats and sunglasses.

  She was trying to get him to go in another direction. “Milo, no. We can’t go here.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “He likes to snap sunglasses in half. That’s why I can only wear dollar store ones around him.”

  When he had his mind set on something, it was apparently hard to distract him toward anything else. Amber couldn’t pull him away from the cart. Honestly, I didn’t know how she took him out by herself because she didn’t have the strength to control him on her own.

  I intervened, holding onto his shoulders. “What do you want, Milo?”

  He then grabbed a pair of the sunglasses, placing them on my face before taking one of the large, pink hats and putting it on my head. He then let out one of his big, grunty laughs.

  “I’m sorry,” Amber said to the saleswoman.

  “No problem. He reminds me of my nephew,” she said.

  We were all laughing at that point.

  Apparently, Milo had gotten his fill after emasculating me. He began to just walk away. Amber chased after him as I placed the items back on the cart.

  When I caught up to them, she looked frazzled then said, “I normally wouldn’t take him some place like this with a lot of knick knacks without a second set of hands. I’m glad you were here.”

  “I don’t know how you do it.”

  “You mean…take him out?”

  “Yeah, by yourself.”

  “Well, he has to learn. He has to learn to live in this world. If that means some embarrassing moments and what sometimes looks like male-female wrestling to the outside observer, then so be it. But if people don’t like it, that’s their problem, not mine.”

  I really admired her for that attitude and honestly, Milo was one damn lucky fucker.

  We ended up getting ice cream from Ben & Jerry’s. Milo got a massive cone of the strawberry flavor while Amber and I each got small cups of mint chocolate chip. We sat down on a couple of benches in the marketplace. It was now evening, and the sun had gone down over the popular city attraction.

  Amber and Milo were across from me on their own bench when almost his entire dollop of ice cream fell off his sugar cone and onto Amber’s chest. Before she could even react, he faceplanted into her cleavage, licking up the entire dollop back into his mouth in one swoop. It had all happened so fast that Amber just sat there looking stunned. Ice cream was dripping down into her shirt.

  And no, I didn’t offer to finish off the job.

  I was too busy busting out into laughter, and then she followed suit.

  “That was a good one, Milo,” I shouted from across the way. “I think I’m gonna use that move someday.”

  When he also started laughing, I couldn’t help wondering if maybe Mr. Milo was smoother than we’d given him credit for.

  ***

  That night, after we dropped Milo back at his house, Amber and I were hanging out in the living room. She was keeping a good few feet away from me on the opposite end of the couch.

  “I can’t believe you do that several nights a week. You’ve talked about it, but I had no idea it was so much work.”

  “I can handle it.”

  “I’m really proud of you. Not that many people can do what you do. It takes a certain personality and a shitload of patience.”

  She blushed a little from the compliment. It was fucking adorable.

  “Well, it makes me feel good that I can help him have as normal a life as possible. He won’t have independence like you and me. He won’t drive or be able to live on his own, but it’s all about helping him get to his personal best, whether that’s just knowing how to cross the street or getting him to practice waiting in a store line.”

  “Shit, woman. No wonder you’re exhausted when you come home.”

  “It’s true. Before you moved in, I used to sometimes just crash and go right to sleep.”

  “Ah…so, I’ve been disrupting your rest.”

  “Yes. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Tonight had been a really great distraction from not having to worry about the dilemma of this upcoming Saturday. I still didn’t know what I was going to do. I decided to test the waters to see if by some chance, she’d give me a clue of what was going on in her mind.

  “I was thinking of going to see that new movie about shark-infested waters at the IMAX theater Saturday night, like an early evening show. I don’t really feel like going alone. You think you’d want to join?”

  As expected, she looked flustered. “Um…I can’t Saturday.”

  I swallowed. “You have plans?”

  “Yes. I’m…meeting a friend for drinks.”

  “Alright. Maybe another time, then.”

  “Yeah.”

  God, my stomach hurt. Her cheeks were turning red. I knew she didn’t like having to lie to me. I was a prick for putting her into this situation. But I wasn’t ready to confront her about it now. It had been a long night, and I really needed to think about how I was going to handle it.

  We were silent for a while as we each pretended to be paying attention to Jimmy Fallon. She looked guilty, and I
hated that I knew exactly why.

  “I’m gonna turn in,” she finally said as she stood up. “Thanks again for hanging out with us tonight.”

  “My pleasure. I’d love to do it again. If you ever want to take him somewhere that warrants an extra set of hands, I’m your man.”

  “Thanks. I’ll try to plan something like that before you leave.”

  Before I leave. Fuck, that’s right. I’d be gone by Christmas. For some reason, it felt like I was supposed to be here longer.

  “Sweet dreams, Amber.”

  ***

  Back in my room, once again sleep was evading me.

  Kitty was kneading on my abs, her little claws digging into me. Under my t-shirt, it looked like I was into kinky sex with scratches all over my skin. The wrong kind of pussy had done a number on me—the kind that left white hairs all over my bed, too.

  I spoke to her in a low, soothing voice, “Kitty, what am I gonna do with you? You gonna come back to Chicago with me? Then, what? Huh? I’m stuck with you? Like for twenty years? You know, we really should’ve discussed this before you got attached. I don’t do commitment.”

  “Meow.”

  “You’re telling me I don’t have a choice, huh? Okay, you convinced me. I think I’ll keep you.”

  This was the nightly ritual. She’d listen to me speak to her ever so quietly, and I’d watch her eyes slowly close as she fell asleep to the sound of my voice. Thank God no one was witnessing this, or I definitely would have had to hand over my man card.

  I was just about to turn the sound on my phone off when I noticed a new text had come in.

  At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. But no.

  It was her.

  Emily: Saw on your Instagram that you were at Quincy Market today, and I haven’t been able to concentrate on anything else. I can’t believe you’re in Boston. Are you here on business? I’ve been meaning to contact you for a while now. I just haven’t had the guts and I’ve felt ashamed. I’m no longer with Tim. Long story short, I haven’t stopped thinking about you and realized soon after I went back to him that I’d made a big mistake. Do you think you could meet me at the Common tomorrow? There’s a lot I need to say to you. I completely understand if you’d rather not. I figured it was worth a shot to ask. I really miss you and don’t want to miss any opportunity to see you while you’re here.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  * * *

  AMBER

  Annabelle was helping me look through the clearance table at Victoria’s Secret.

  “So, I’m looking for size extra large, right?”

  “Right,” I said as I mindlessly sifted through the pile of lace undies.

  “You’re not even listening. You’re not extra large. You’re barely a small. Your head is somewhere else.” She picked up a tiny piece of fabric. “What about this thong?”

  “I don’t wear thongs. I don’t like the string. It feels funny in my ass.”

  “Get used to saying that,” she joked.

  “Are you kidding me right now?”

  “Yes, of course, I am—sort of. Seriously, though, are you nervous?”

  Throwing a pair of zebra print panties across the pile, I said, “Yes. I am. I’ve considered cancelling, but then I remind myself that I don’t have to go through with it if I’m not feeling it when I meet him.”

  “That’s a good plan. And make sure you have condoms. Several.”

  “I’m sure he has those.”

  “Yeah, but you never know. Buy the best kind and insist on using yours. You don’t know where his have been stored. Make sure you buy lubricated.”

  “For someone who was pushing me into this, you seem more worried than me. And that’s freaking me out.” I threw some beige underpants at her. “Stop it.”

  “I kind of am worried. To be honest, I never thought you’d actually go through with it. You really surprised me. I talk a good game, but I think what you’re doing takes balls. And I’m proud of you for taking control of your sexual needs.”

  “Lower your voice,” I whispered.

  “Everything is going to be fine, Amber.”

  God, I sure hoped I was doing the right thing for myself.

  After racking up a two-hundred dollar bill, I left the store with a large, pink-striped bag filled with a multitude of thongs and other lingerie.

  Annabelle and I parted ways out front as she headed toward the train station.

  I opted to walk home since my house wasn’t that far from the Downtown Crossing shopping area. A long, brisk walk sounded like just what the doctor ordered. Dried-up autumn leaves crunched under my Ugg boots as I strolled.

  Cutting through the Boston Common, I glanced over at the swan boats, trying to forget about thoughts of riding on them with Rory.

  Then, I nearly lost my breath when I saw him.

  Channing?

  It was.

  He was sitting on a bench, talking to a tall, gorgeous brunette. She looked like the kind of girl who women loved to hate and a perfect match for Channing looks-wise. Her hair was long, the strands blowing toward him in the wind as they engaged in what looked liked an intense conversation. Her chestnut hair contrasted her fair skin, which accentuated her plump, red lips. Wearing dark, tapered jeans that looked like they were painted onto her legs and high-heeled boots, she basically looked like a supermodel.

  They were seated very close to one another, their bodies turned inward, and their legs touching. I could feel the heat in my body rise. This shouldn’t have upset me. I knew Channing probably picked up women in public all of the time. But this was the first time I’d ever witnessed it. And my reaction was really telling.

  Really, Amber? You have a sack full of lingerie so you can have sordid sex with a male prostitute on Saturday, and you’re considering hiding from Channing because you’re upset he’s talking to a girl? Grow up.

  Giving myself a mental kick in the ass, I marched over to where they were seated but then stopped just short of where he could see me.

  Channing wasn’t acting like his normal smiling, flirtatious self. The tone of their exchange seemed serious.

  He suddenly glanced over and saw me before I could opt to slip away unnoticed.

  Channing instinctively moved his body away from the woman when he said, “Amber…”

  Taking a few steps forward, I put on my best, fake smile. “Hey.”

  “What are you up to?” he asked.

  Shrugging, I said, “Just did a little shopping. Now, I’m headed back home.”

  His eyes were glued to my shopping bag. He was probably wondering why I’d gone to Victoria’s Secret when my vagina was more dried-up than a desert.

  “Looks like more than a little shopping.”

  “Yeah, well, gotta have underwear, right?”

  “Right.” He turned to his lady friend.” Uh…Amber, this is Emily. Emily, this is my friend Amber, the one I’m living with.”

  Emily?

  THE Emily?

  I looked between them, wondering if I’d heard correctly. “Emily?”

  His eyes were telling me not to mention that he’d spoken of her to me. So, yeah, it was definitely that Emily.

  “Yes,” he said.

  Emily smiled. Of course, her teeth were just as perfect as everything else. “Nice to meet you, Amber.”

  “What brought you two to the Common?” I asked.

  “We’re just catching up.”

  Wow, I had so many questions, but they were going to have to wait.

  “Great. Well, I’ll leave you two to…catch up, then.”

  “I’ll see you at home later,” he said.

  “Yep. See you later.” I turned to her. “Really nice to meet you, Emily.”

  Not.

  “Same.” She smiled.

  I started to walk away. So flustered, I wasn’t paying attention when a man walking his dog knocked into me. The leash ended up wrapped around my leg as the dog yelped like crazy. The animal then began tearing into my sho
pping bag with his teeth.

  Channing and Emily were still looking over at me when all of my lingerie fell out of the now entirely ripped bag. The thongs and other pieces were strewn about the grass.

  This was mortifying.

  The owner apologized, but the damage had been done.

  They had seen the entire thing unfold. Channing got up off the bench and promptly began to help me pick up my underwear off the ground.

  I couldn’t even look at him as he handed them to me. “I can just put them in my purse. Thank you.”

  When all of the panties were safely in my leather satchel, my eyes finally met his.

  He looked concerned. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. That was really weird.” I glanced over at Emily and whispered, “This is interesting? What brought her back into the picture?”

  “Yeah. She texted me out of the blue and asked me to meet here.”

  “Wow. Is she still with that guy?”

  “No. They broke up.”

  Why was my stomach churning?

  “I see. Well, I don’t want to keep you. Enjoy the rest of the afternoon.”

  He looked like he wanted to say something else but instead just answered with, “You, too.”

  ***

  Once home, I found it very difficult to concentrate. All I could think about was what Channing and Emily were doing.

  Tonight was my night off from working with Milo, but I almost wished that weren’t the case. I could have used a distraction from the thoughts floating around in my head.

  Between my upcoming rendezvous on Saturday, to my irrational feelings of jealousy, my mind was all over the place.

  A couple of hours later, I was just about to head to bed when Channing walked in.

  I straightened up on the couch. “Hey.”

  “Hi.” He plopped down next to me, smelling like cold air and cologne. He turned to me, and we just looked at each other for a bit, silently acknowledging the awkward run-in from earlier.

  Examining him closely, I tried to figure out whether he looked different—namely whether he looked like he’d had sex. His hair was rustled. That could have been from the wind, or it could have been from her hands running through it. His lips were red. That could have been from the cold, or it could have been from her kiss. Images of him hovering over the sexy brunette flashed through my mind. Even the idea of him having sex with her turned me on, and that was a little disturbing.