Porter (Men of Lovibond 3)

I shut the door when she’s gone and lock it. Again.

Frankee pulls the sheet over her face and groans. “Oh my God. That was the single most humiliating moment of my life. I’m not even kidding. I sleep farted in class when I was in the tenth grade, and it wasn’t that embarrassing. I want this bed to open up and swallow me.”

I slide under the covers, so we’re both under the sheet. “It’s okay. We’re dating. My mom isn’t surprised to find out we’re having sex.”

“She might expect us to have sex but probably not when I’m a guest in her house. She probably thinks I’m a big ole slut.”

“I promise you she does not think you’re a slut. She likes you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know my mom. And because she winked at me when she kissed me goodnight and told me to carry on. She wouldn’t have said that if she was mad or upset.”

Frankee throws the covers back. “Your nephews heard me orgasm. That’s sickening.”

“Well, at least you got to come. That fucking RAAWR in my ear put an end to me getting off. My cock went down like a deflating balloon. And I was so close too. Right on the edge.” Those kids are like a double dose of limp dick.

“I’d offer to finish you off but I’m done. Your nephews are mood killers.”

“It’s okay. The little cock blockers killed it for me too. I’d probably have flashbacks of the RAAWR if I tried to get it up again.”

She rolls onto her side, and I drape my arm over her body when she backs up and nestles against me. “This is enough for me, baby. Just holding you.”

I think I could stay this way with her forever.

“I’m glad you got to meet me while I still have my hair. While I still look like some semblance of myself.”

Kit has a beautiful headful of blond hair. It’s a shame she’s going to lose it. “Have you decided to cut it or wait and see what happens?”

“I don’t know. What did your mom do?”

That day is still fresh in my mind. “She chose to cut hers. She felt like the transition from long hair to no hair would be less abrupt if she went short first. And it was more practical to lose short hair rather than chunks of long. And let me tell you, she went down to the salon and had them style it into the sassiest little pixie cut I’ve ever seen. It was adorable. When her hair grew back, she chose to keep the pixie cut rather than let it grow long again. It looks great on her.”

“I’m already seeing a little come out. When should I expect the rest to fall out?”

It’s been almost two weeks since her first treatment. “It’s different for everyone but probably later this week. Maybe early next week.”

Kit stares into her coffee cup. “It’s inevitable. I should just do it.”

“Only when you’re ready.”

“I don’t have any other choice but to be ready. If I can get an appointment today, will you go to the salon with me?”

“Absolutely.”

Porter comes into the kitchen, still wearing last night’s sleep pants but he’s added a T-shirt to his attire. His hair resembles a rooster’s comb the way it’s sticking up in every direction.

He comes up behind me and grasps the sides of my face, planting a kiss on the top of my head, bringing a broad smile to Kit’s face. “What’s wrong with you? You never get up before me.”

Well, if Kit didn’t know we spend the night together, she does now.

“I don’t know. I woke up at six and smelled coffee, so I got up.”

Porter goes to the coffee maker and pours a cup. “You probably couldn’t sleep because you were having nightmares about those two little shits popping out from under the bed like a scene from a Stephen King movie. I ought to go into their bedroom and roar at their asses this morning.”

“Don’t you dare. Frankee and I are enjoying our coffee and our conversation. The peace and quiet will come to an abrupt halt when they get up.”

“What time is Alexis coming to get them?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m not putting up with them showing their asses today. They can behave or she can come get them and take them home to act like heathens.” One thing’s clear. He isn’t a fan of children misbehaving.

“Porter…”

“I’m not kidding, Mom. We came to spend time with you. Not babysit Alexis’s kids so she and Clay can take it easy.”

“She’s going to need to come get them early because Frankee and I have plans for today. We’re going to the salon. She’s going to help me choose a haircut.”

“You’re going to cut all of it off?”

“Most of it.”

“Are you sure you want to do that?”

“My hair is going to fall out soon—either this week or the next. It’s better to cut it before it starts. This way, I can get a cute haircut and at least feel good about myself for a little while.”

“I’ve never seen you with short hair.”

Fear. Sadness. Concern. Porter’s expression is a mix of all three. Kit doesn’t need to see that. Not when she’s working toward being in a positive place.

I lift my brows and nod at Porter. “Your mom’s gonna look sassy with a pixie cut. It’ll be cute.”

He forces a smile. “Better not get too sassy.”

The news of Kit’s cancer is still fresh for Porter. It’s understandable that he doesn’t know how to handle these issues in the most positive way for her. There isn’t a guidebook for how to deal with cancer. But I’m going to be by his side—doing whatever I can—every step of the way.

The hairdresser applies a little pomade throughout the top of Kit’s hair and makes it spike at the crown. “What do you think?”

Kit inhales deeply and releases her breath slowly. She smiles when she reaches up to touch her short locks but her pleasant expression doesn’t mask the sadness in her eyes. “I like it.”

I don’t know Kit so I can’t tell if she really does, or she’s just saying that.

“It’s spunky. I love it.”

“Well, I have always been a little spunky, so I guess it fits me.”

We leave the salon and she pulls down the sun visor and inspects her hair in the mirror. “I’m sixty-two years old. You’d think I’d be over caring so much about my appearance.”

“A woman should always care about her appearance, no matter her age.”

“Gabe likes my hair long. That’s why I’ve never cut it above my chin.”

Gabe and Kit have been married a long time. It’s sweet that she still wants him to find her attractive.

“My dad liked my mom’s hair long too, but I think he prefers it short now.”

“How old is your mom?”

“Thirty-eight.”

“Thirty-eight? How old are you?”

“Twenty-one.”

She chuckles. “Well, I guess Porter is a cradle robber. How old did that make you when you met him?”

“I was sixteen.”

“And he was twenty-five. That shit-ass wasn’t robbing the cradle back then, was he?”

I love hearing her call him shit-ass. “Absolutely not. I had a huge crush on him, but that’s as far as it went.”

“You’ve liked Porter for a long time.”

“Five years.” Almost a quarter of my life.

“He looks happy with you. I’m glad you’re back in his life.”

“Me too.”

“He said you were an intern. What does that mean exactly?”

“I’m only working at Lovibond for three months.”

“Well, I don’t guess you have to be Porter’s employee in order to continue your relationship.”

No. But I do have to be in his life. And I won’t be after September.

No need to keep the truth from Kit. “I’m moving to Texas after my internship ends at Lovibond.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. And I’m sure Porter is too. I can tell that he likes you. A lot.”

“I like him too. A little mor

e every day.”

“Texas isn’t going anywhere. Maybe you should stay in Birmingham and see what happens.”

“Porter hasn’t expressed an interest in me staying.”

“It’s not September yet.”

“No. It’s not.”

Staying. Is that something I’d consider? Giving up the life and plans I’ve made with my best friends for the guy I’ve been sleeping with? For the guy I’m falling in love with.

I’m not sure.

But my gut tells me I’ll be heartbroken if he lets me walk away.

Kit closes the visor. “Well, are we ready to see everyone’s reaction to this hair?”

“I know I am.”

Porter wasn’t happy about his mom’s decision to cut her hair but that’s because he doesn’t comprehend what’s going to happen in the upcoming weeks. That’s something he and I need to talk about, so he’ll know what to expect. Especially since he won’t be there with his mom. I think it’ll help him feel better connected if he has an understanding of what she’s facing.

Frankee: We’re on the way home. It’s short but she’s ok w/ it.

Porter: Did she cry when they cut it off?

Frankee: She looked sad, but she didn’t cry.