Page 62 of Missile Tow
Bertie and Chip exchanged glances, grinning like a pair of Cheshire cats.
“Hard worker. I like him,” Bertie declared.
“Me too,” Chip agreed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: Chip
The texts started coming in around the nineteenth of December. Other than a brief birthday greeting last year, two weeks after getting dumped, I hadn’t heard a single word from John. I never replied to his birthday text back then, and I hadn’t replied to the numerous ones piling up on my cell phone the past few days.
Trust me, I’d fantasized about a reunion a billion times. I’d role-played, rehearsed, and dreamed about what I’d do or say if I ever saw John again. The early thoughts were always the joy I’d feel if he came home and begged me to take him back. Subsequent fantasies bordered on hate and anger that it hadn’t happened. To this very day, I truly had no idea how I’d react.
The first text read that he wasn’t doing well in Seattle. He didn’t like city life. He missed his former pace in Missile. He claimed he didn’t have friends except the ones that came with his new partner. The messages of misery kept coming two to three times daily.
When the first text arrived, I stared at his name on the alert for several minutes before reading the message. Perhaps six months ago, I would’ve been over the moon at receiving any type of communication from John. Things changed. Time had worked its magic. Even without the arrival of Van, I doubted I would’ve responded.
The decision to ignore him radically changed yesterday. That message recognized the fact that I wasn’t responding to him. He wondered why. He asked me to at least listen to him, give him a chance to explain. With time, he believed I could forgive him. Sure, I could forgive. But I knew I couldn’t forget.
However, this morning’s text forced me to confront reality. John announced he was definitely coming back to Missile. He’d broken up with the man he’d left me for and would be returning to his hometown. He didn’t exactly say he wanted to be with me again, or planned on visiting me, but I wondered why he was suddenly texting.
I deleted the texts and set my phone on the kitchen counter. Van was showering. He deserved to know that one of his biggest fears was about to happen. I’d expected that if this day ever came, I’d be delighted at the news of John’s failure. But as things turned out, I wasn’t delighted in the least. In fact, I dreaded the possibility of his returning to our childhood town.
“Your dad’s coming home, Pooch,” I whispered, rubbing his ears the way he loved. “I wonder if he’ll want you back?”
“What’d you say?” Van asked, coming out of the bathroom completely naked. “Were you on the phone, stud?”
I ran my eyes over his magnificent body. He was a vision to behold. I couldn’t tell you how he kept his six-pack, or how his chest was so pronounced. We hadn’t worked out since he got to town.
Of course, he’d only been here ten days. A fit person didn’t fall apart physically after that small amount of time. His short time in Missile, and my growing feelings for him, didn’t seem possible. As I continued to study his naked body, I wondered how my love for him had developed so quickly.
“You okay?” he asked, moving toward me. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
What had been a developing erection across the room was deflating as he moved toward me; concern registered on his face. I could lie and tell him all was fine. I could grab his hips and guide his cock to my mouth. I could also swallow his cock in one slurp, but using sex to avoid telling him the news was not fair.
“Sit here, baby,” I said, patting my lap. He raised his eyebrows seductively and grinned. “Not for that,” I added.
Van didn’t sit on my lap. Instead, he crossed his arms and studied me carefully. “John’s coming back, isn’t he?” he half asked, half stated. I nodded, chewing on my lower lip.
I gestured to the phone. “He’s been texting me,” I revealed. “For three days now.”
I expected Van would speak up about why I hadn’t told him, or how unfair keeping such a thing from him was, but as usual, he went the opposite direction. I should’ve known a perceptive and sensitive soul like him would first make sure I was okay.
“Are you okay?” he asked, reaching for my hand.
His free hand ran through my hair like a rake, pausing occasionally to massage the back of my neck. His touch was caring and exactly what I needed. Somehow, he was being the stronger person despite his biggest worry coming to fruition.
“I haven’t responded,” I said. “To be honest, I’m not quite sure how I feel.”
Van held his hand up and then hurried to the bedroom, retrieved a pair of boxers, and came back. He sat on a barstool next to me at the kitchen island. Somehow, him in boxers was impossibly hotter than when he was nude a minute ago.
Those thoughts, and the way my heart fluttered at the sight of him, were the only messages I needed to verify how I felt about him and about us. John was coming back to Missile. The one thing I’d fantasized about for months. But today, in a new dawn, my thoughts were about how much I desired Van. How serious I was about my feelings for him. I wanted him so badly.
“Of course, you don’t know how you feel,” Van acknowledged. “Is Evan coming with him? Are you worried about how hard seeing them together might be for you?”
The next part was what worried me the most. “Evan isn’t coming with John, Van. John isn’t just coming for a visit either. I think he’s returning to Missile to live here.”
Van’s face lost all color as he pulled his hand back. I watched as the news registered. “Oh,” he whispered. “That is different than a visit.”
He stood and made his way to the kitchen window. Like me, he’d developed a love for the spot that revealed an incredible view of the forest. I called the windowthe thinking place. The latest presentation outside being snow-covered branches and icicles hanging from the roof, or an occasional deer family digging for grass under the snow behind the cabin.
