Page 20 of Pour Decisions
“So, this grandson of mine is very handsome, if I do say so myself,” Nana says. My phone pings with a text from her, a string of emoji. “But I know he’s not the type to date, so you don’t have to worry about that. He just needs to get out of the damn house more often. He’s had a stick up his ass since birth and can’t relax. I’ll set something up for y’all that’s way outside of anyone’s comfort zone.”
“What’s his name?” I ask. I can handle good-looking men as long as they aren’t JD.
“I’m keeping it a surprise so y’all don’t go Googling each other.” Nana tucks her phone back into place. “But trust me, you’ll have a great time.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
JD
Dealingwith a ton of work stuff? I can handle it—thrive on it. But dealing with work stuff when I get home and I can’t miss Kat’s presence has me more thrown off than I’d care to admit.
Kat is everywhere—lounging on the couch with Bubba, cooking and dancing in the kitchen, talking to herself (or Bubba) while she does yoga on the back porch. Her easy, warm laugh while she watches TV can penetrate my headphones like I’m not wearing them at all. Or maybe I just like to hear it.
The mornings are the most perilous, especially on days when she has to go in early, like today. She’s in the shower, filling the air with the scent of her fruity-smelling body wash.
I take a deep breath and let it out, trying to ease myself through the exercises I’m supposed to do between our physical therapy sessions. I hate doing them, even though the air is nice and cool out on the back deck at this time in the morning. I want to be back in the gym, pushing myself until I can barely move. Walking Bubba and doing my light exercises out here isn’t unfurling the mental knots I have.
Especially knowing that Katrina is naked inside my house, her body slick and soft.
Bubba stretches his front legs out and rests his chin on them, looking at me. Judging me for having the absolutely brilliant revelation that Katrina would be naked in order to take a shower.
“I didn’t ask for your judgment,” I say to him. He lifts his head and tilts it to the side, his eyes going big and sad. It breaks me down in an instant. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed you read my mind.”
He rolls onto his side for a belly rub, all forgiveness, and I give it to him. I finish my exercises and go inside for water and more coffee. The shower is off now, so I go to my room to gather my clothes.
I step into the hallway, and my heart stops. Instead of being fully dressed, as she usually is when she leaves the bathroom, she’s in nothing but her tiny towel. Her back is to me and she bends over to pet Bubba, who’s oblivious to what he’s causing her to do.
I can see pretty much everything I’ve been dying to see for ages. Bubba prances ahead of her, right where she needs to walk, and the towel starts to slip. I suck in a breath. Is there any point to adjusting myself in these shorts? They show it all anyway.
Katrina hears me and whips around, locking eyes with me. Neither of us speaks or moves for a moment, and the air between us crackles with energy. Kat shifts, her towel dipping. My eyes dart to the swell of her breasts over the top of it.
“I didn’t…I forgot my stuff.” She clears her throat. “My clothes. In my room.”
“It’s fine,” I say, my voice hoarse. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay!” Her voice sounds strained.
Her feet unstick from the ground and she darts to her bedroom. I take a second to gather myself, then go to the bathroom to shower. I’m still uncomfortably hard and hate myself for it.
I shouldn’t do this. Ishould notdo this. She’s my ex. She’s still the hottest woman I’ve ever seen in my life, but I can’t jerk off to her now that she’s living in my house. She’s in a vulnerable spot. And all these feelings can’t go anywhere.
But she’s not here and she won’t know. I can release the tension and deal with the guilt later.
I tighten my grip on my cock anyway, a full shiver going down my spine. This isn’t the first time I’ve jerked off to her, but it’s the first time in a decade that I have any new mental material to work with.
I try to take my time, but the images of her are too close to the surface for me to hold back. I stroke my cock hard and fast, and come with a shudder and a gasp in an embarrassingly short amount of time. I hope the shower is loud enough to cover that sound.
I let my head thunk against the tile wall. The tightest knot has loosened, but I’m still wound up. My hand can’t take care of it all, but it has to.
I go through the day physically, but mentally, I’m still in that hallway, looking at every inch of exposed skin.
I need a full Katrina detox before I go home again, so I text Nana about making dinner at her place. Going to my Nana’s usually helps me focus. She never bullshits me and helps me see things from a clear perspective.
Nana never met Katrina in the year or so that we dated, but that was only because it was the year she went on a months-long cruise with her best friends, shattered her hip on a hike up a volcano, and had to be in rehab for a few months. I wonder how things would have panned out if I’d had Nana to go to in person when everything was falling apart.
I go to the store after work to pick up dinner to cook for both of us. One of my cousins made a joke that because Nana taught all of us to cook, she should have us all take turns coming to cookfor her. Then, she took the joke and ran with it. I’m not sure if she’s cooked herself a meal in years.
Her house is a little chaotic, with her flowerbeds overflowing and all kinds of wind chimes and bird feeders along her porch. Bubba runs up the stairs ahead of me, tail whipping back and forth. Nana appears moments later, her ancient dog, Coco, in her arms.
