“That’s going to hurt, baby,” he says, not really fighting me on it. I shudder at his endearment: he’s never called me that before. It shakes me. It moves me. It makes it all the more of a necessity that he is in me right now. I grab the back of his head and pull his eyes back down to mine. I bring his hand up to my mouth and suck on two of his fingers greedily, getting them as wet as I can. I spit them out ungracefully, drool hanging from my lips.
“Get me ready,” I hiss at him.
He does.
When he enters me, it burns, the sting traveling up and down my body. I think maybe it will be enough to actually say this was a bad idea, but then he angles himself differently, and heaven breaks open, and angels spill down and a choir sings the gospel according to gay sex: PROSTATE! Wave after wave crashes over me, pleasure and pain, but I’m tethered to him and he’s got me and in that moment it starts it starts—
it starts as a wind begins to blow past me, over me, through me, pushing the gathering storm out to sea. The sun breaks through the clouds and there begins a deep rumbling noise deep from within the waves. The ground shifts and shakes and eventually breaks apart. The ocean, that damnable ocean, beings to rush toward the chasm that has opened, forming a whirlpool that howls and screams as it spins. Lightning flashes, thunder rumbles, but it is so far away now. As I watch, the ocean gives a dying gasp as the seabed is transformed into a desert. The storm dies. The sun shines. The dusty surface is cracked, parched. But it holds together. A small breeze ruffles my hair, reminding me of what I’ve done to get to this point. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, and from there, from there
—and from there, the only thing I can do is hold on for dear li
fe, hold on while this man, my Otter, shows me just how much he loves me. I only hope he feels it in return. I hope he sees that I will give him all I can. I hope he sees that I’m in this for the long haul.
And you know what? All of you that have stuck with me through to the end?
I think he sees it just fine.
Epilogue
or
Otter’s Perspective, As It Were
(Bear’s Gonna Freak)
Six months later
THE Kid shouts at me as he gets off the school bus. He turns and waves to some girl hanging out the window screaming at him. He rolls his eyes as he turns back to me.
“Who’s that?” I grin at him.
He scowls. “Some sixth grader who’s got it in her head that it’s adorable for a nine-year-old to be in the fifth grade. She told me I’m precious.”
I laugh. “Older women, huh? Don’t let Papa Bear know about that. He’s still a wreck over letting you skip a grade.”
He grabs my hand and pulls me inside. “Don’t remind me,” he grumbles over his shoulder. “He wrote another note and put it in my lunch again.”
I groan as I slide his bag off his back. “What did it say this time?”
The Kid scrunches his face up, and when his voice comes out, it’s an eerie imitation of Bear. “‘Kid, please don’t correct your teacher again in class. I don’t want to be called in for another Brother-Teacher conference about how you need to skip to your freshman year in college. My heart can’t take it.’”
“Well, he’s got a point.”
The Kid shakes his head. “How can a certified teacher not know how to spell constitution? No wonder Anderson Cooper says our school systems are failing the students.”
“And we all know that if Anderson Cooper says it’s true, it must be.”
His eyes narrow. “I would agree with you, but you’re obviously making fun of me.”
I ruffle his hair. “Obviously. Speaking of the system, don’t forget the social worker is coming over tomorrow at three.”
“How could I forget about Olga Ehrlichman?” he scowls. “I swear she makes her German accent worse just to weird me out.”
“I don’t think she’s German, Kid.”
He throws his hands up in the air. “That’s what you think. I know she’s trying to get me to be a part of the Schutzstaffel. Can’t we scare her off and get a new one? We could tell her we’re Jewish.”
I shake my head, trying to hide my smile. “I don’t think that would be such a great idea. We’ve got another court date coming up next month, and we don’t want to take the chance of it being the time your mother actually shows up.”