Learning Lessons 4 of 8: Letting Him In // Chapter 2

“You don’t seem very interested. Am I boring you?”

Jess said, “Huh?” waking out of a reverie and trying to act like she’d heard everything Pete said.

Jess was sitting on the concrete stoop outside the back door of the kitchen looking out into the yard. Pete was standing below her, his back to her, hands on his hips, holding a plastic bag while he waited for Sargent to find a decent place to poop. A sharp line of shade was drawn across the lawn from the early morning light, and Pete Jr. and Andy were horsing around on the lawn wearing warm sweaters and jackets, rolling around in the wet frosted grass despite the October cold. Cold but still bright and sunny, no clouds up in the deep blue sky. How long could this nice weather last?

“Never mind. I was talking about Karla.”

She couldn’t remember who Karla was. She said, “Oh.”

She’d had trouble sleeping last night. The thought of Tyler in the house disturbed her now that he was here. Her attraction to him was on the surface so blatantly sexual that having him in her intimate family space felt like a violation, even to her. She slept eventually, then, when she woke, the very first thought she had was of Tyler. How close he was. Just past two doors and she could climb into bed with him. Slip under the sheets and feel his strong arms hold her. She didn’t think of making love, just wondered what it would be like to wake up with Tyler. She was getting a hint of what it would be like to live with Tyler. To be his mate. He was so close, and she was so hungry.

“I’m sorry, Pete.”

Pete looked over his shoulder at her while Sargent finally found a spot good enough to squat over, his red legs and tail trembling. He smirked at her, said, “A lot on your mind?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” she said and sipped her coffee. It had got cold. “I’ll get breakfast started,” she told him, and got herself up and went back in the house.

Tyler had been on his best behavior. Charming her impressionable boys with his good looks and charm. Even Pete didn’t say a thing to her when they were in bed last night. Tyler was playing his part well. He wasn’t swearing or being brash and rude like he could be. He was respectful. She hoped he could keep that up.

Jess brought out the bacon and eggs and put them on the counter, wondered if Tyler had strange dietary needs. Body like his, did he even eat bacon? Pete would shit his pants if she had to start doing special shopping just for Tyler. She’d just make him the same as everyone else for now.

It was Sunday, a family day, so it wouldn’t be unusual if she were to make a nice big meal for everyone, right? But would that come off as too celebratory, like she was making a big deal about her friend staying over? Would Pete think she was going too far? Would Tyler think she was trying too hard—could she turn him off? Gosh, was all this worry necessary?

It could be. This was the most outlandish experience in her whole life. No experience in her life had taught her how to behave in a situation like this. She wanted to be in her warm terry robe and her flannel PJs, but not with a guest in the house. A guest who had made love to her a few times and with whom she wanted to go again and again. So when she woke up, she’d had to get showered, cleaned, even touched her face with a bit of makeup. This was going to be an awkward few weeks. Her stomach felt so strange.

Helping Tyler like this was a necessity. It was a kindness, sure, but she had to help him. If she’d never stopped that day at the school, gone in and sat with him in the teacher’s lounge… Hadn’t talked about the bulge in his shorts, hadn’t peeked inside when he showed her… There were a lot of bad things she’d done that day. Thirty-five year old woman should know better. She’d brought this on the kid. Had he a better work history, a better relationship with his landlord, better credit—he could have survived their indiscretion, that was on him. She was still right to help him. And while she had told herself and told Pete she would keep her hands off him, now that he was here she couldn't help but think how close he was, how easy it would be to lock herself in the furnace room with him and peel his tight clothes off that big muscular body. 

Pete was outside with the boys still, working on something. He’d brought out a shovel, and Andy had his plastic beach shovel ready to help old dad with whatever he was doing. She checked her reflection in the hallway mirror and liked what she saw. Contacts in, simple makeup, fresh face for so early in the morning. Her hair was put together without looking like she’d spent time on it. She went up the stairs.

The hall at the top of the stairs wasn’t long, it was more rectangular, with four thin hollow-core doors separating it from the rooms. There was the master bedroom, the boys room, and then a washroom, and the guest room. Tyler was behind that door. The boys’ new big brother who was sharing that tiny bathroom with them now. Their house wasn’t big, and Tyler filled it up, that was for sure. The guest room he was in was very small, maybe just twelve by ten. He had a bed, a dresser, and a closet. His door was open a crack, and she could see him awake and moving around in there. He was dressed, which was a relief, although she would love to see him naked—just not right now with Pete and the boys so close, ready to run up the stairs and catch her. He had an old, beat-up suitcase open, and he was putting things away in the dresser, his big, wide, muscular back turned to her. She watched him a moment—felt so creepy doing it. Every second she enjoyed watching his body move in his tight jeans and t-shirt was also a dread-filled second where she thought he might turn and catch her. But she kept watching from the hall, ready to walk in and start talking if he turned and saw her standing in the shadows.

She knocked very lightly with a knuckle, stood in the gap of the door and pushed it wider.

“Hey,” he said when he turned.

“I’m making breakfast. I want you to come down and join us. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course it is.”

“I just don’t know how we’re going to go about this is all,” she laughed.

He waved her in, gave her a warm smile. It felt so wrong to go into that space with him. She stepped through the threshold and closed the door quietly behind her. She wasn’t here for sex, but man, she’d like to. If Pete could keep those boys busy… She had an image of herself bent over the edge of the bed, Tyler pounding her from behind, one of his white sport socks stuffed in her mouth so her family couldn’t hear her ecstasy.

Tyler sat on the edge of the twin-size bed, and she sat next to him. “Thanks for letting me stay here. It means a lot,” he said.

“Please, Tyler, it’s fine. Stay as long as you want.”

“I’ll get myself right soon. I’ll stay out of your guy’s way. But if you want me to sit with you and eat, I’d be honored.”

“Yeah, we do, of course we do. You’re not going to be holed up in here while we’re home. I want you around.”

“And Pete?”

“I’ll take care of Pete. Really, he’ll be okay.”

“I hope you don’t blame yourself for getting me fired.”

She bristled. She bit her lips and couldn’t help wincing. “Do you blame me?”

“No,” he said, looking down at the carpet. “We both shoulda known better, I guess.” He smiled at her. “You just can’t keep your hands off me, can you?” He gave her a mischievous smile, but she could see in his eyes he didn’t have the conviction. He wasn’t in the mood right now, he was just going through the motions. She wondered what went through his head. How did he see this arrangement? She hoped he didn’t think that he had to bang old Mrs. Mapplethorpe once a week to pay for his room and board. She hoped he didn’t see her that way.

She pressed her open palm against his cheek and he put his hand over hers. She watched his face, struggling with what to say. The sliding glass door rumbled underneath them, Pete and the boys coming back in the house. She patted his cheek, and he let her hand go. They sat a moment longer on the edge of the bed, both looking at the floor. It was odd but it did feel strangely comfortable to sit with him and be quiet.

“You’ll come down for breakfast?”

“Yeah, I will,” Tyler said, his hand slipping across her back, rubbing in circles, then up to her neck caressing her. It gave her a chill that hardened her nipples. “Thank you,” he said.

“Uh-okay,” she said and got up. She opened the door and slipped out, keeping her back to him, afraid he might see her nipples pressing out the shirt fabric.

Pete was on the stairs, one leg up, one leg still in the hall, leaning on the handrail, like he’d been listening but afraid to come up. His face was turned up, watching her come out of Tyler’s room. A little charge bolted through her from Pete’s horrified expression, and as she passed him on the stairs, let him see her nipples, she couldn’t help herself—she wiped at the corners of her mouth. She could feel his anguish, feel his suffering, wondering if his wife had just gone down on her lover in their own home while he was with the boys.

She went into the kitchen and started breakfast, riding a salacious thrill that raced through her whole body.