Etiket: leg underneath

Sophie’s Summer Adventure Ch. 04

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Ass

Author’s Note:

This is the conclusion of the story. Just a fair warning, there are no sex scenes. I intended this to be a longer chapter, or several more chapters, but life got in the way. In the end, this felt like the best ending to me for Sophie’s story. Also just wanted to thank those who reached out and let me know how much they enjoyed the story and looked forward to the ending. It always means a lot to hear from you, so I hope you enjoy.

*****

Sophie woke the next morning, and was surprised not to see Brandon at the table. Only her mother was home, having the usual inane argument with her personal chef. Sophie sat down and poured a bowl of cereal.

“Where’s Brandon?” Sophie asked, as her mother came into the dining room.

“Oh, he had to leave early, I’m sure he will be around later,” Jessica replied to her daughter, betraying no emotion. “Anyway, I have to go into the studio this morning.”

“So early, didn’t you get in late?” Sophie inquired.

“Oh, we need to do some re-shoots, you know how these things go,” replied Jessica, turning to leave and smirking to herself. She was ready to put part 1 of her plan into motion. “See you later, dear,” Jessica said to Sophie as she left.

“Ok, bye,” said Sophie. That was weird, she thought, but quickly forgot about it. She was supposed to meet Diego this morning anyway. He had asked for help in picking a dorm at NYU. As she got ready to leave, her cell phone rang. It was Brandon.

“Sophie, I need to see you this morning. Meet me at the Starbucks at the top of the hill,” Brandon said.

“Why can’t you just come here?” Sophie asked.

“I just can’t right now, but I need to talk to you,” he replied. Sophie agreed and hung up the phone. What Sophie didn’t know was this particular Starbucks was a favorite hangout for photographers, including one who had just been given a tip about a scandal involving a famous star and her daughter.

Sophie arrived and spotted Brandon in the corner. She went over to talk with him.

“I don’t have much time, is something wrong?” Sophie asked dismissively. Increasingly, she realized she only liked being with Brandon for one thing. She really didn’t have the desire to be spending more time talking with him.

“Sophie, I want to tell your mother about us. I want us to be together,” said Brandon, grabbing Sophie by the hands.

“Are you nuts!” Sophie replied incredulously, pulling her hands away. “We can’t do that. I thought this was just fun.”

“It’s more than that for me now, isn’t it for you?” Brandon asked. “We can make it work.”

“How do you figure that?” replied Sophie. “Look, I think this has gone too far. Maybe we should slow things down.”

“I have to go, just think about it,” Brandon said quickly. This was really making him nauseous, so he just wanted to do what Jessica asked and get out of here. He got up, and as part of the plan, kissed Sophie on the lips and walked away.

Sophie was stunned that he would kiss her in public like that. There were in the corner and no one appeared to notice. She left to meet Diego, puzzled over what to do. This appeared to come out of nowhere; she didn’t think Brandon had any interest in a real relationship. Sophie certainly didn’t, and realized this needed to end before her life blew up.

Unfortunately for her, she didn’t notice the photographer across the street taking pictures of Brandon and Sophie as they talked. Her life had already been blown up, she just didn’t realize it yet.

After meeting with Diego, she went home and prepared what she wanted to say to Brandon to end things. Only, he didn’t show up that night, or the night after. Sophie attempted to ask her mother casually what happened, but she was evasive. ‘Maybe they actually broke up,’ she thought. It only made her more determined to end things with Brandon, whenever he did try to contact her.

But that call never came. Instead, a few days later Jessica walked into her room with a magazine in her hand. She dropped it on the bed, and Sophie looked at the cover in horror. Under the title “Star’s Daughter Steals Her Boyfriend,” there were two pictures: one of Brandon and Sophie holding hands, the other of them kissing.

“Mom, I can explain…” Sophie began…but Jessica cut her off.

“No need, dear, I know all about your little affair with him,” Jessica replied to the horrified face of her daughter. “Who do you think tipped off the tabloids?”

“What…why…” Sophie sobbed.

“Oh dear, you need to toughen up. This is going to be a good lesson for you,” Jessica started. “You’ll just have to weather the paparazzi for a few weeks, then everyone will forget this, and you will be set in this town. You should be thanking me.”

“What, for ruining my life!” Sophie shouted. “How could you do this to me!”

“Please, I didn’t tell you to fuck my boyfriend,” Jessica shot back. “That’s on you. Luckily, you have a mother who knows how to turn these kinds of things to our advantage.”

Suddenly, bonus veren siteler it dawned on Sophie. “The coffee shop, with Brandon, you set all that up…”

“Of course dear,” her mother replied calmly. “I admit at first I was upset at finding you were sleeping with Brandon, but I quickly realized I could use it in a way to further my career. The sympathy for me will be through the roof. It’s going to lead to great roles for me.”

“But Brandon…he was a part of this,” Sophie realized he was a jerk, but she had no idea just how bad he was until now.

“Yes, Brandon cares more about his career than you, dear,” Jessica laughed. “Once I explained that he could use this to re-cement his image as the bad boy of Hollywood, he jumped at the chance. Frankly, his career was much more successful when people saw him for the asshole he is. And it doesn’t get much worse than sleeping with your girlfriend’s daughter.”

“But, what about me?” Sophie asked in horror.

“Relax dear, like I said the next few weeks will be tough, but after that the last part of my plan kicks in,” Jessica began. “We stage a reconciliation for the press, and after that your ticket will be set in this town. You’ll be the bad girl who is making good.”

“Of course, you’ll have to move out, I can’t have you staying here right now,” Jessica explained. “Why don’t we put you up in the Beverly Hilton for a few days, the paparazzi will get some really great pictures of you entering in disgrace.”

“You’re sick…I want no part of your evil plan!” hissed Sophie.

“Well, you’re welcome to go it on your own,” Jessica said patronizingly. “Frankly, I must admit a part of me is proud of you. I didn’t think you could be this bad. We could definitely work with that in the future. But right now, you need to learn a lesson.”

“Stay away from me!” Sophie screamed. She ran up the stairs and packed her things as quickly as she could…she needed to get out of here. There was only one person she knew in town to help her. She placed a frantic call to Diego, who agreed to pick her up. He had just seen the story, but knew there was some sort of explanation. There had to be; the Sophie he knew wouldn’t do something like this.

When Diego arrived, photographers were already at the gate of the Norton mansion, looking for the first picture of the bad daughter. He was able to make his way in, and Sophie quickly rushed to his car, cameras clicking as she moved. Diego floored it upon leaving the house, and eventually they out maneuvered the paparazzi on their motorcycles.

He drove her north, toward Santa Barbara. They figured she could hole up in a hotel there until things blew over. On the drive, Diego finally asked her the $64,000 question. He didn’t want to believe Sophie had done anything wrong.

“I’m so sorry Diego…things just happened…this is why I didn’t want to get involved with you,” Sophie wailed, finally calming down and explaining the whole sordid affair as quickly as she could. Diego just listened, saying nothing.

Finally, after long moments of silence, Sophie asked, “Diego, please say something.”

“I’ll drive you to the hotel, and check you in to make sure no one notices who you are,” Diego said, looking away from Sophie the whole time. “After that, you’re on your own. I just can’t help you anymore. I’m sorry.”

“I understand,” Sophie said quietly. “I never meant to hurt you.”

Diego said nothing else until they reached the hotel. After checking her in under an assumed name, he brought her bags to the room. Despite everything, he still cared for Sophie. She had made a terrible mistake, and had broken his heart. But she was still a person, and someone who was utterly alone in this city now. He knew the vultures would find her here eventually.

“Is there anyone else I can call for you?” Diego asked. “Someone that can help you out?”

“Only my family,” sniffed Sophie. Upon saying that, she looked at her phone. She had dozens of text messages and calls from her father and stepmother back in Pennsylvania. Her father was already on the way out to pick her up; he would be there tonight.

“My father is coming,” said Sophie, sobbing. “He’ll be here in a few hours.”

“I’ll wait with you until then,” Diego said. “You shouldn’t be alone.” In that moment, Sophie realized that Diego was 1,000 times the man that Brandon was. How could she have been so stupid?

Her father arrived that night. Diego left quietly soon after that, leaving father and daughter to discuss what happened. Sophie was so ashamed; while her mother was awful for trying to use this to her advantage, the fact was that Sophie had done plenty wrong herself. In a way, Sophie felt she deserved this horrible fate.

She tried to begin explaining to her father, but all that came out was, “Daddy I’m so sorry!” She then fell in a heap into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. In that moment, Robert Walsh realized at least a part of the story was true; bahis his daughter had indeed been involved with Brandon Harris. But as she calmed down and explained her mother’s involvement in the story, Robert slowly built up with rage for his ex-wife.

Sophie had screwed up, terribly, Robert realized, and was paying a dear price. But no one deserved this, not even from a stranger, let alone her own mother. Robert cursed himself for putting his daughter into this position. He had been the one to encourage his daughter to make this trip. He knew Jessica was a selfish person, but he never imagined she could sink this low.

After calming his daughter down, and assuring her that while she had messed up he still loved her and would always be there for her, he asked her to stay at the hotel and not answer the door. He had one stop to make before he got his daughter out of here.

Robert sped his rental car right to the beachside mansion. He had only been here a few times, to drop off a young Sophie for some of her ill-fated meetings with her mother. He promised himself this would be the last time either of them stepped foot in this house. But first, he needed to confront his ex-wife.

The paparazzi had abandoned the mansion by the time Robert arrived, allowing him free access. Jessica was holed up with her agents and publicists, figuring out how best to use the story to her advantage. As her butler answered the door, she saw Robert with a murderous look on his normally mild mannered face.

“Robert, you got here quickly,” Jessica started. She was not intimidated by her pushover of an ex-husband. “I assume you know where Sophie is. We could use your help to spin this to all our benefit.”

“I only came here to tell that from this point on, any relationship you had with Sophie is over,” Robert said, holding his rage as best he could. “You will not contact her ever again, we don’t want your money, your gifts, or anything to do with you. From this point on, you are dead to her, and to me.”

“Don’t be melodramatic, Robert. You need us to manage all this. Do you really think you can handle this by yourself!” Jessica scoffed.

“Yes, I do, and I will,” Robert replied. “I know how this town works. After a few days, people move on to the next story, the next scandal. If there is no news to break, the story dies. And right now, the only person they want to hear from is Sophie. And with god as my witness, I promise you that no one will get that interview.”

“What are you going to do, hide out for a few weeks? You can’t afford to do that, eventually someone will find you.” Jessica replied. “It will be so much easier if you just worked with us. My plan will work if you let it.”

“What, your plan to reap all the benefits off your broken daughter. Even I never thought you could sink that low. Calling the paparazzi to set up your own daughter?”

“Look, every situation provides an opportunity. I didn’t tell her to get involved with Brandon, but I might as well use it to my advantage. I’ll have the dumb public eating out of my hands with this for months.”

“Good luck with that, but we don’t need your help,” Robert replied. “We’ll go it alone. Don’t ever contact us again.”

“Suit yourself, Robert,” Jessica said mockingly. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With that she closed the door. Robert breathed a deep breath, mentally patting himself on the back for not strangling Jessica. He also stopped the recording on his cell phone.

From there, he placed an anonymous call to a tabloid, offering them a free tape of Jessica Norton admitting how she set up her daughter. Suddenly, the story was no longer about the bad daughter, it was about the awful, calculating mother.

Robert returned to his daughter. At first, she wouldn’t open the door until she was sure it was him.

“I took care of everything, sweetheart, now let’s get the hell out of here.” Robert said as he hugged his daughter.

“How, where will we go?” sobbed his daughter.

“We’ll just drive. You always wanted to see the country right? Well this is our chance. Trust me, the story is not about you anymore,” Robert said confidently.

“What did you do?” she asked, tears running down her cheeks.

Robert wiped them away and kissed her forehead. “I’ll explain in the car. Just know that I’ll do anything to protect my daughter.”

As they drove, Robert explained what happened. Even in her current state, Sophie had to smile at the ingenuity of her father. He had completely spun the story around, and now it was set to blow up in her mother’s face.

It didn’t absolve Sophie from her behavior, and she knew that. She had acted terribly, and her mother had every right to be mad. But no mother should ever take it as far as Jessica, no real mother would ever think to do such a thing.

Sophie realized then that her relationship with Jessica was over; they had both done their part to kill it, and now it was best it stayed dead. She knew her mother deneme bonusu was resourceful, and would eventually find a way to land on her feet. But she wouldn’t be able to do it by stepping over Sophie.

Robert drove all night, north to Lake Tahoe. There, Sophie was met with an even bigger surprise. Her stepmother (no, her mother Sophie told herself) and brothers were waiting for her at the secluded lodge. Robert had a lot of time to think on the plane ride here, and called his wife with his plan when he landed. From here, they would drive their way back to the East coast together, as a family.

The Walsh family had a great time on their impromptu vacation. Sophie colored her hair blond so as not be noticed, but during the course of her trip, the story had been completely spun to highlight the duplicitous actions of her mother. No one was really talking about what Sophie did anymore.

Once they returned home, they were several attempts to get interviews with Sophie, but all were turned down. Within a few weeks, everyone had moved on to the next scandal, and Sophie prepared to return to Columbia in a few weeks’ time, her summer adventure quickly becoming a footnote in the Hollywood scandal machine.

Upon returning to school in September, Sophie got some stares and plenty of people coming up to her wanting to know her story. For a while, she was kind of a folk hero on campus, the star daughter involved with the Hollywood bad boy, but even college students quickly moved on to other gossip. It helped going to school in Manhattan, where it was easy to blend in and be forgotten. Over time, Sophie became just another student again.

As Christmas break approached, she received one unwanted phone call, and one visit. The phone call was from Jessica. She expressed her admiration at how Sophie had turned the story on her. It had been a rough few months for Jessica, but she had begun to rebuild her reputation. As always she landed on her feet.

“I know what your father said, but I do hope we can get together again. Maybe you can come out for the summer again,” Jessica offered obliviously.

“I don’t think that would be the best idea. I am truly sorry for what I did to you; no matter our relationship I never should have acted in that manner,” Sophie began. “But I think it’s best for both of us if we no longer see each other. It can only end badly.”

“You’re still my daughter…” Jessica started.

“Let’s face it, you never really wanted a daughter,” Sophie cut her off. “So I’m letting you off the hook. You don’t have to worry about me, I have a great family, and a great life.”

“If that’s how you want it,” Jessica said dismissively. “I won’t beg you, after all this is all really your fault.”

“Take care of yourself Jessica,” Sophie said, using her mother’s given name as she hung up the phone. Sophie felt quite a bit of sadness; maybe one day they could repair their relationship, she honestly hoped so. But Jessica needed to be the one to truly want to repair it now.

The unwanted visit she got was for Brandon, who showed up at her dorm room during finals, begging for forgiveness. He had not fared as well as Jessica, no one really wanted to touch the guy who was sleeping with his girlfriend’s 19-year old daughter. And once things had turned on Jessica, she had no desire to help Brandon in any way; she was too busy repairing her own image.

Jessica had done horrible things, but she had been wronged as well; most people accepted her apologies after a time. Brandon was a different story.

He hoped Sophie would help him repair his image. But in that moment, Sophie no longer saw the confident man who had excited and seduced her. She only saw a scared little boy, and she no longer wanted any part of the world Brandon inhabited.

“There’s nothing I can do for you, Brandon,” she said calmly. “We both screwed up, all three of us really. I just want to move on. You should as well.”

“But, you don’t understand, I think I love you…” Brandon started.

“You don’t love me, you love your career, and you think you can sweet talk me into helping you” Sophie replied as she began closing her door. “I’m sure you and your career will be very happy together without me.”

That was the last time she saw Brandon. It was the worst mistake of her life, but it taught her some valuable lessons. Most importantly, it showed her what real men were. Men like her father, and Diego.

In that moment, she finally resolved to do something she had avoided all fall. Sophie got on the A train to Washington Square Park and walked toward the NYU campus. She had no expectation that Diego would forgive her, but she needed to express to him how grateful she was that he was there for her in her darkest hour.

She arrived at his dorm room, and stood there frozen, unable to knock. She walked back and forth several times, until Diego actually opened the door himself, as he headed out to take his last final before break. Sophie Walsh was the last person he expected to see.

“Diego, can we talk for a minute?” Sophie asked softly.

“I don’t have time, Sophie, I need to take a final,” Diego said curtly, turning away from her. But something made him turn back. “I’ll be done in two hours, if you want to talk then.”

Rivers to Follow Ch. 08

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Blonde

Hey. Don’t hate me. I have a life too.

Okay, alright, it’s been too long. Like, way too long. I know this.

But I’m here now, aren’t I? And check out this nice long chapter I brought you! Don’t worry. I’m way too excited about the ~new potential romance~ that arises in this chapter to abandon this story.

Anyway, some notes:

1. Yeah, so my material is getting more and more pretentious and intellectual and political. But, though it may seem gratuitous, I stand by its place in the story. And I can’t wait for all the calm, rational comments! That is, if I ever do decide to post this mess anywhere.

2. Malik makes me happy because I’m finally able to write dialogue in my own vernacular. I know that sounds insincere because I just used the word vernacular, but I speak differently in conversation, and I feel like I never get to see that in online writing.

3. There’s not a ton of sex in this chapter. Just fair warning.

4. The pacing in this chapter kinda sucks. I’m sorry. I just wanted to get this out for y’all.

Next chapter should be up… well… in less time than this one took.

– Leon xx

P.S. The f-slur is used in this chapter.

*****

Matty

There were a lot of advantages to Julian’s parents visiting. For one, I finally got him to clean his apartment for the first time since our second date. Ruby’s presence had made it considerably more disgusting, and I wasn’t one to nag, but, goddamn, that place was gross. Another benefit was that he shaved. Controlling your partner’s appearance is shitty and abusive, but his facial-hair exploration had begun to verge into goatee territory, and I wasn’t a huge fan.

Julian was not handling the impending arrival well. I had a lot of experience dealing with garbage parents, but, nervous as he was, he gave clear indicators that his mother and father did not fit into that category. Their interracial, interreligious love affair didn’t go over particularly well, so when Julian came out to them, they were with him every step of the way. I would’ve been jealous if I hadn’t so long ago come to terms with my luck. In any case, his anxiety was a puzzle.

The day of their arrival I woke up bright and early, expecting to sneak out and grab coffee and scones before he rose. To my confusion, however, I woke up to only one furry body in the bed, and it was trying to lick my feet.

“Juli?”

I tugged on the comforter until Ruby begrudgingly moved and allowed me to pull it from the bed. Cloaked in cotton and down, I trudged out of the bedroom to the couch where Julian sat, holding but neglecting his cup of coffee and staring into space. I took the lukewarm mug from his hands and wrapped him up in the blanket.

“Good morning, Juli.” His icy feet brushed against my knees.

“Hi, darling.”

I smiled at his scratchy morning-voice and kissed his ear. “Do you want me to reheat your coffee for you?” He gazed at me and gave a nearly imperceptible shake of the head.

“I love you,” he said quietly.

“I love you too,” I replied. “Your happiness is important to me, and I am here for you.”

I sat with him for a while before getting up to shower and get dressed. Julian was sitting in the same spot when I returned, and I had to drag him to his closet. He plodded about getting ready as I went out to do a sweep for junk in his car (and thank God I did, ’cause I found a cum rag in the back, though I refrained from mentioning this to him).

I put on some Christmas music for the ride, which usually put him in an exhaustingly cheery mood, but he barely seemed to hear it. I honestly couldn’t figure it out. He’d never spoken of his parents with anything but love and admiration (if a bit of familial irritation). Their visit, however, had incited a brand of anxiety I had never before seen in him. It was truly some Matty-level drama. I really, really wished that he would talk to me about it.

******

Julian

They just can not tell him about Lolo.

I should’ve fucking told him about Lolo.

******

Matty

Julian was biting his lip like crazy, and it was driving me crazy. I gently pulled it from between his teeth, and he shot me a glare, but I simply laid my head on his shoulder and took his hand. After a moment of stubborn tenseness, he relaxed his stance and gave my hand a squeeze. That squeeze became a death grip as the first deplaned passenger came into view.

“Hey. Hulk Hands. You’re gonna break my fingers.” He frowned at my tentative smile, and I decided to shut my mouth. We turned our attention back to the jet bridge just as the Osmans appeared.

Mrs. Osman surprised me with her height. She almost matched Julian’s 6’3″ and towered over her husband, who stood well shorter than my six feet. Her gray-blonde hair was wound into a neat bun, leaving an unobstructed view of her blue eyes and peachy skin. It seemed that she and her son shared only in height and strong bone structure.

Mr. Osman looked a lot like his son, and he was totally hot.

“Lili,” acıbadem escort Mrs. Osman said sweetly as they met us at the gate. She took her son’s chin in her hand and inspected him, as though looking for signs of pain or distress. I sensed that I should hang back. “You look beautiful, as always.”

Julian pulled his mother into a hug. “As do you, Maman, as always.” He broke the embrace to step to his father and hug him as well. “Baba.”

“Son. Let me get a look at you.” Julian did as instructed, releasing his father and standing still. “Beautiful. Your mother was right.”

Julian grinned. “As always.”

My heart fluttered as Julian’s loud, booming laugh came from his father’s mouth.

“You.” My heart stopped fluttering. Scratch that—my heart stopped, period. Mrs. Osman extended a delicate finger and drew me forward. I walked over, willing Julian to come to me or say something. My chin was soon found in the same grip that had previously captured Julian, and I waited patiently for the verdict. She relinquished her grasp and patted my cheek. “Beautiful. Much more beautiful than my son, actually. You sure about him?”

I exhaled a laugh that matched hers. “You’re just saying that because he’s blond like you,” Julian fake-whined. Mrs. Osman shot me a wink and then snapped her head around.

“Lili, are you planning on taking us home anytime soon?”

I chuckled as Julian started to protest before sighing and grabbing his parents’ bags.

“So, loulou,” Mrs. Osman started, her husband and son chatting and walking ahead. I blushed at the nickname. “How did you meet my son?”

She caught me smiling at the memory. “We met one night when he was bartending.”

Mrs. Osman raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know he was a bartender.” A cold rush of panic chilled my bones as she called to her husband, “Saïd! Did you know that Lili is a bartender?”

Mr. Osman turned to Julian. “You are a bartender?” Julian nodded, and his father turned back to us. “Lili is a bartender!” he replied.

“I know that! That’s why I asked.”

“Okay,” Mr. Osman said blankly. Mrs. Osman rolled her eyes, and we shared a smile. Julian looked over his shoulder.

“Hey, Mum, did you know that I’m a bartender?”

******

Lili

I snuck a glance behind me to see Matty and my mum laughing together. Breathing so easy after a week of heartburn was a weird sensation.

“Il est beau.”

I turned to my father in horror. “Ugh, Dad, don’t be weird.” He chuckled and thumped me on the back.

“You realize he looks like your mother, yes?”

“Dad!”

******

Loulou

The car ride back to the apartment was interesting. I mostly just observed quietly as Julian and his mother chatted and chirped over each other and Mr. Osman sat without a word. My nickname was dropped a few times—apparently Mrs. Osman had no intention of calling me anything but loulou—but I could barely get a word in edgewise. The Cleveland airport was only about 40 minutes from Julian’s, but by the time we’d arrived he’d relayed the events of his past six months in America.

“And when did you two meet?” Mrs. Osman asked, tapping her foot as we retrieved her bags from the car.

“The very end of August,” I replied, closing the trunk with a huff. Julian squeaked, and his mother glared daggers at him before turning toward the building.

“Hmmph. And I hear about it from Connie Crawford three months later.”

Her words rang in my ears. Three months? Three months. Mrs. Osman walked on ahead, either unaware of or indifferent to the mess she’d just made. A silent conversation played between my eyes and Julian’s. I could feel Mr. Osman watching for a moment before following his wife.

“Later,” I said quietly. Julian nodded, and we headed inside.

The rest of the morning passed without incident. Mostly we just exchanged facts and anecdotes and discussed life in America versus in Britain. They got along with Ruby, who seemed to sense that Mrs. Osman was not to be messed with. It was surprisingly comfortable, considering how stressed Juli had been about the whole affair. Although I suppose I had that one figured out. Connie Crawford, I had quickly pieced together, was Eddy Crawford’s mother. I felt awkward keeping so much distance from Julian, but I didn’t want to pretend that things were okay. At least not until we’d talked.

That opportunity came around four, when Mr. Osman went to nap and Mrs. Osman pulled a book from her bag. Julian nodded toward the kitchen and I followed.

I leaned back against the counter and watched him pace for a while. He kept looking up at me, pleading without words that I speak first, and finally I relented.

“Why didn’t you tell them?” I asked. No frills: Julian-style. He stepped toward me and took my hand. It didn’t feel right, but pulling away seemed harsh, so I let it be.

“My family seems simple, babe, but it’s not.” His tone was much more desperate than I had anticipated, so much so that I was disturbed. I stroked atalar escort the back of his hand with my thumb. “I didn’t wanna scare you off—” I dropped his hand.

“Julian.” I was beginning to feel more pissed than hurt. “Don’t lie.”

“Fine! I didn’t want them to meet you. Alright?” Okay, no, I was back to hurt. Yeah, that really fucking hurt.

“No,” I said quietly. “Not alright.”

“No, I—I’m sorry, Matty, that’s not what I meant.” He always did hate to see me cry, and I was pretty close at that point. “It’s just—All my mother does is pry. You know how… I told you, once…” I looked up from the floor to see him looking down at it. “I told you that I was in a bad relationship.” I nodded, even though he wasn’t looking to see it anyway. “Well, it took its toll on my family, too. It brought out the worst in me, and it ruined my relationship with my mum. I ruined my relationship with my mum. So she interferes. It’s not that I didn’t think they’d like you—not that that even really matters.” I was in his arms by that point, snuggled into his soft knit sweater. “I want us to move at our own pace, and I can’t trust her to let that happen. Honestly, it’s part of the reason I came to study so far away from home.”

That struck me. “I thought you were 18 when you moved to America?” He didn’t look at me. “This relationship was in high school?”

“Well, I was in high school.” My stomach twisted. I was flooded with this nasty, ugly, hateful anger, and Julian must’ve noticed the change in my breathing because he looked down at me and chuckled. “Down, boy,” he murmured, and I shot him a glare before returning to my home in the weave of his sweater.

“I’m not happy that you didn’t tell me before your parents actually showed up,” I said, “but I want us to move past it. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said quietly, and he kissed my head. I nestled further into his arms and he squeezed me tight.

“You know, I thought I got you into trouble earlier—when I let slip you’re a bartender.”

“I did too, for a second,” he replied, a smile in his voice, “which would’ve been hypocritical considering the summer my mom was a topless bartender at a beach in Marseille.”

I choked. “Why do you know that?” He just laughed.

The day went really well after that. I loved watching Julian interact with his family, even when they were speaking French and I had no idea what they were saying. Finally, after weeks of quiet, antsy Julian, I got my goofy boy back. At first, I was unsure of the extent to which I was meant to touch him. His parents were accepting of his sexuality in theory, sure, but seeing it in practice is another thing. Julian showed no reserve, however, giving me constant touches and kisses and even pulling me into his lap at one point, to his mother’s amusement and my chagrin. I ended up learning very little about his parents beside the fact that Mrs. Osman was a very private person and Mr. Osman a very quiet one. They clearly loved Julian, though, and that was all that mattered to me.

It was around five o’clock when I made my exit.

“Unfortunately, I have to go prepare Sunday dinner for a bunch of ingrates,” I said with a sigh. Mrs. Osman rolled her eyes and Mr. Osman laughed—I had already explained the nature of my work to them. I collected my things and said my goodbyes, promising to return in the morning, and Julian walked me down to my car. He had managed to cajole his landlord into giving him one of the vacant parking spots in the garage a few weeks ago, so now I was able to just park and hop in the elevator.

The elevator doors closed and Julian wrapped his arms around me. “Thank you for today, Matty.”

I kissed him softly on the cheek. “I really like them.” He gave me a look and I gave it right back. “I do! They remind me of you, in different ways.”

He groaned. “Oh, don’t tell me that!” I laughed.

“They’re great. And I’m glad you get to be with family on Christmas.” His gaze started to turn guilty and I clucked my tongue. “No, no, Juli, I’m with family too. Phoebs and Tali and the kids are my family. Really.” He smiled sadly and tucked my hair behind my ear.

The elevator dinged. “What’s the frown for?” I asked, stepping out and tugging on his hand.

“Nothing, lou,” he replied, and I raised a brow. He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Okay, liar,” I said, with a cheekiness to my voice, and that earned me a little tiny grin. I poked his ribs and dashed away before he could retaliate.

“Hey!” he called after me. I galloped away, laughing and spinning, and he gave chase. I stopped on my heels just short of ramming into my car, and before I knew it, Julian was in front of me, pressing my body against the back door.

“You caught me,” I panted, trying but not really trying to hold back an impish smile. He pushed the backpack off my shoulder and it fell to the asphalt. I began to protest, but he cut me off with a kiss.

I knew Julian’s moods well enough to know that he wasn’t feeling gentle. The past few days he’d been so wound up about aydınlı escort his parents that I hadn’t even been thinking about sex; I had just wanted my Juli to be okay. Now, however, with his lips on mine, his warm skin pressed against me, my sex drive was rearing. I held her back a moan as he grabbed my hips and pulled me into him. We stood there for a while, making out and grinding like teenagers, until the sounds of another car prompted me to pull away.

My boyfriend wasn’t done yet, it seemed, and grabbed my hair to pull me back in. “Julian,” I laughed, evading his kiss and pushing our bodies up and away from the car. “I have to go.”

“Can you come by later?” he breathed, running his hands over my ass. I suppressed a snort as he pulled me closer by my ass and began to kiss my neck. Tops.

“Lili. We’re not gonna fuck with your parents in the next room.”

He huffed into my neck. “We can just watch a movie.”

I laughed and kissed his head. “Nice try, love. See you tomorrow.”

He stood there and sulked as I pulled out of the spot and drove away.

******

Julian

I returned to my apartment frustrated. I opened the door and set my keys down, rounding the corner to see my mother sitting beside my father on the couch, his arm around her shoulder and her head resting between his shoulder and his chest.

A newspaper sat on his thigh, folded neatly into quarters to present the day’s crossword. My mother held it down as he penned in an answer. He murmured something and she laughed, and he looked down at her like she was made of sunshine and stars.

“Viens, Lili, join us,” she said, without looking up. I obeyed, walking over and sitting on the other side of my dad. He ruffled my hair, and my mother reached over his lap to squeeze my hand. “I like him,” she declared. “He’s kind, and he clearly cares for you.” I nodded.

She took the pen from my father. 14-Across: Four letters; “where icicles may hang.” E-A-V-E.

“His profession is noble, too,” Baba added. 38-Down: Nine letters; “Western Italian food?” S-P-A-G-H-E-T-T-I. My mother chuckled at him, and he grinned at her.

“I love him,” I concluded. They turned their smiles to me.

I was surprised by how nice it felt to prepare dinner with my parents. In my tiny galley kitchen, me tending to the couscous, my mother to the vegetables, and my father to the meat, each of us swearing as we elbowed each other sides and stepped on each other’s toes, it felt like we were back in our first shoddy little flat, before my father got published and everything changed for us. The only thing missing was Lolo.

By the time my parents turned in, I was absolutely drained. All in all, the day had gone well, but it had been extremely trying and tiring.

I missed Matty.

These days, any time I finished up a bad shift or a difficult exam, all I wanted was to go home, mine or Matty’s, it didn’t matter, and snuggle up with my lou.

I threw my comforter off and sat up. I stepped into my slippers, grabbed my keys, and tiptoed out the door.

******

Matty

Honestly, I thought he might show up. And, of course, I was hoping he would. I didn’t want to ask that of him, but my buzzer sounded off all the same, and I didn’t even ask who it was before allowing them up.

He arrived exhausted, his slow walk looking more like a crawl. I hadn’t realized how hard this day would be on him. I waved him over to the couch and guided his body into my arms. He snuggled up to me like a sleepy cat, and a cute little smile appeared on his face. “Hi handsome,” I murmured, running my fingers lightly through his hair.

“I missed you,” he replied.

“It’s gonna be awkward when your parents catch you sneaking back in.”

“I missed you.”

I suppressed a smile. “Let’s go to bed, then, sweetheart.”

******

The next day, I was early to rise; I had lots of Christmas planning to do at the House. Luckily, I had awoken as the big spoon, so I retracted myself from bed fairly easily.

As I scrubbed at various nooks and crannies, I attempted to conjure the day’s schedule in my head. A speaker, a new volunteer from Planned Parenthood, was coming to speak to the high-school-age kids since they were out of classes. She—I think it was a she, I had yet to meet her—was coming to deliver what our county educators had failed to: some proper sex education.

I wish Juli would come give me some proper sex education.

Fuck. I hopped out of the spray, washcloth still in hand, and trotted over to the open door to my bedroom. I hesitated for a moment before grinning and throwing the wet rag at Julian’s sleeping form.

“Hey!”

Oh. Not-so-sleeping, I suppose.

I laughed and rushed back to the shower, sliding the curtain closed behind me. I heard the door open and listened carefully as he slipped his clothes off and pitter-pattered over to the shower, my body tense with anticipation. He slipped in behind me, attempted subtlety in placing down the lube and condom he’d brought, and laid a gentle hand on my back. I took the hint, leaning over and placing my hands against the wall. He bent over and nibbled along the curve of my ear, as though he meant to distract me from the fact that he was adjusting the water temperature.

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