Page 330 of Shadowman
We promised to always stay in touch, and so far, we’ve been making good on that promise. Trevel and I went out to Mexico a few months back to see Dash and Kemper’s house and meet Dog, and we definitely plan on frequent visits to my besties, Luthor and Ren. We’ve also been able to see Felix and Lem, and the Velle trio pretty often.
It’s been working. Things are just… good.
Traveling sustained us for a while, but now that we have the penthouse, I don’t see any reason to leave for at least a bit… Until the next vacation, anyway.But the next AP family reunion is gonna be at our place. I just decided.
So many things have changed in the last year, it could make my head spin if I let it. But there’s one thing that keeps me sane, with just the right amount of crazy… One person who swept into my life like a storm, shaking me up in the best possible way.
My partner in the shadowsandthe light… Trevel bloody Fenwick.
I can’t even think about him without smiling. He’s just so perfect for me. To think there was ever a time I tried to convince myself I didn’t want it, or denied what we were always meant to be to each other is laughable.
Yes, Trevel is an utter and complete nutball. But he’smynutball. And I wouldn’t want him any other way. I’m proud of him for getting help; doing weekly sessions with Dr. Love via Skype and taking his meds—prescribed only, no more self-medicating.But make no mistake, I don’t need him to benormalto be the love of my life.
Fuck normal. It’s for chumps.
Give me an obsessive, needy, six-foot-five filthy-talking big-dicked emo Daddy with an imaginary friend any day.
Trevel doesn’t see Leo like he used to, which I am glad about, for his own sanity. But I know he still thinks about him. Ren actually drew him an awesome picture of Leo and mailed it to us. Trevel’s going to have him tattoo it next time we get together.
“Cowabunga!”
There’s my dark angel…
I chuckle and shake my head, leaning against the marble island while my boyfriend is across the room in the den playing virtual reality surfing in his underwear.
And yes, they’re still the skimpy ones that show off his lickable ass and suckable dick print.
What a delicious, sexy, dorky giant, I’m telling you.
“Baby…?” I call to him, questioning whether he can even hear me.
He loves to blast things—music, video games, movies… You name it, Trevel has its volume all the way up.
“Yea, love?” he responds, meaning hecanhear me. But he’s shouting.
My grin widens. “As entertaining as this little performance is, I’m going to get coffee. Are you coming or not?”
“I’m almost done,” he yelps, arms out, knees bent like he’s actually surfing. “Oh yea! Hang ten, baby!”
“I love you, but I’m going,” I huff.
“’Kay, I’ll meet you down there in five minutes!”
That means twenty in Trevel-speak.He’s also late for everything.
I’m not kidding. Yesterday, he was late to a meeting with his boss at Starbucks to discuss his frequent lateness.
Hence why I’m going up the block to Blank Street instead.
I finally manage to pry my eyes away from his tight booty and leave, heading out into another loud, chaotic, beautiful late spring day in NYC. My phone buzzes in my pocket while I walk, and I pull it out to check. It’s a new message from Ren in our group chat entitled “AP Family”.
We went with the normal name, rather than Ren and Dash’s suggestion:Alabastard Frienditentiary. Or was it Penitentifamily?
I can’t even remember, but it was two weeks of bickering and incessant messages culminating in Velle telling us all to shut the fuck up and naming it “AP Family.” Pretty sure Ren wanted to call it “Daddy Velle’s Slut Children” after that, but was afraid to send one more message and push Dad over the edge.
Either way, I’m attempting to read the bombarding texts responsibly, lest I walk into oncoming traffic, but it’s difficult because Ren is spamming us with pictures of the baby.
No, it’s not a human baby. Jesus… Can you imagine??
