Page 9 of The Family Man

I nod as I lean on the door for support.

“Try to ice up. Later Sage." She hugs me and walks out the door.

I close the door and look around, then it hits me. The place is silent. No banging, no rock music, it’s just still.

After locking all my doors, I limp back to my bedroom. It’s time for me to watch Netflix with no chill. My muscles ache while I make my way up to my bedroom and sink onto my bed. God, I feel guilty. I had no right to act as stupid as I did.

I should apologize. Better late than never. Making my way back to the kitchen, the sound of tires rolling over gravel grabs my attention. A car pulls up into his driveway. Creeping to the living room, I peep through my window.

A red convertible pulls up and shuts off in my neighbor’s yard. I only see his legs as he walks off his porch and down onto his front lawn.

The convertible door opens, and a small blonde woman steps out in a baby blue crop top and blue leggings. She does the romance movies thing where she jumps on him and wraps her legs around his waist.

Part of me wants to say, “PUSH HER OFF!”

I must be suffering from a concussion. He holds her tight to his chest, grips her butt, and walks back inside. On his way in, he looks up to my home, and I drop to the floor to hide. I’ve had enough disasters and embarrassment for the day.

I shouldn’t care who he is with. I mean it’s not like it’s important.

ZAC

Who is pounding my door? Shit what time is it? Something tickles my nose, and I brush it away. It’s in my mouth too, I open my mouth flexing my jaw. I think I have cotton mouth. Why do I have cotton mouth?

Someone shifts at the side of me. “Baby?” the voice groans.

Who the fuck is baby? I hear a door slam, and someone running.

“You got to be fucking kidding me with this shit,” the voice says above me.

Someone is shoving the shit out of me.

My eyelids feel like they are stuck together. I peel them open, and the sunlight makes me squint.

“Jesus, Zac, they will be here in a half hour,” the voice says. I know that voice, it’s Daire. Why is he here again? Then it all comes back to me, death, kids, fatherhood, me. Shit, if he is here, then I am late. I rush to roll off the bed then my world tilts. I grip to the side of the bed and rest my feet down on the ground. This is good. I can do this.

“Put on some underwear. What has gotten into you? Did you know your dog was out? I had to put her away,” he asks as he walks into my closet.

I want to tell him Jack Daniels with no ice. That is my drink of choice. I don’t know how much I had, but clearly it’s enough to make me feel thirsty. I reach to the side and grab the sheet slowly over my lap.

The bed dips and rolls at the side of me. Then I feel it, the spider-like touch creeping over my shoulder, two warm globes pressed against my back.Those are breastsmy brain registers breasts against my back. Her arms are clasped in front of my neck. Next, she throws her legs over my thigh.

The thing is, I’m not a fan of relationships. I don’t do them. Yes! I come from a stable home; my parents aren’t mean. They are emotionally stable. I wasn’t abused as a child. I just don’t like to be tied to anyone. Years ago I tried it and it didn’t work out, that relationship still haunts me to this day. Relationships are too much responsibility, too much effort and too much work.

As I hear Daire shifting through my closet, I think back trying to recall exactly who I called last night.

I was already a couple of cups in when my cock stated that he needed some attention. I have friends with benefits. When they start to get a little clingy, that’s when I give them a token of my appreciation, and I walk away.

The woman behind me shifts her body to my right so I can see her face.

Platinum blonde hair, creamy white skin, blue eyes, and that beautiful smile, belongs to…. shit what’s her name again? Denise? No, it’s um...Emily.

The name registers in my head, and I feel like I’m pulling open a mental file on who Emily is.

We met at Panera, her ass was small and cute, so I gave her a complimentary guest pass to one of my restaurants in lower Charleswood. I fucked her the first night she came to my restaurant, on the wall behind the dumpster. She didn’t mind. Then in the men’s room of the restaurant. Now at my home.

Three times and you’re out. This was my last time with her. The worst thing that happens is that women usually begin to catch feelings after three fucks, and I’m ready to move on.

“Morning!” she sings sweetly. God, she sounded relationship happy and satisfied.

---