Sex Says

I refused to read too much into it.

I wouldn’t think about how amazingly sweet it was that he was now helping Emma get comfortable on the couch with a blanket. Or that he was letting Lucy climb all over him like he was an actual jungle gym. Or that my mind was whispering, He’s perfect.

I wouldn’t think about any of those things.

Nope.

I wouldn’t.

“Come on, Aunt Lola! It’s time for bingo!” Henry shouted and started jumping on the couch like a banshee.

“Wait…before we play bingo, did your parents feed you dinner?”

Or maybe I should’ve asked, how much sugar did your parents feed you for dinner? The Reynolds kids were so hyped, even Louie had resorted to hiding out inside his neon sand castle.

“Nope.” Emma and Henry responded in unison, but Lucy said, “Yes.”

Lucy was the Reynolds kids’ version of a human lie detector.

I raised an eyebrow, and Henry sighed. “Lucy! You weren’t supposed to tell her that!”

“Ugh! Lucy!”

She just shrugged, not the least bit intimidated by her brother and sister.

I looked at a pouty Henry and Emma. “Are you guys actually hungry?”

“I am!” Henry exclaimed and Emma nodded.

“Do you want me to order a pizza?”

“Yes!” all three agreed.

“Okay. Pizza it is,” I said.

“And chocolate chip cookies!” Lucy added with a smile. “Please, please order the pizza from Golden Gate Pizza. They have the best chocolate chip cookies, Aunt Lola!”

The fact that Annie’s kids had a preferred pizza delivery place solidified the fact that I wasn’t the only Sexton sister who wasn’t skilled in the art of cooking.

I glanced at Reed, who was now sitting on the couch beside Lucy and watching the opening credits of the Minions movie. “Pizza and cookies sound good to you?”

He grinned. “Sounds perfect.”

There was that word again.

Perfect.

One Minions movie, an entire large pepperoni pizza, and a half-dozen chocolate chip cookies later, everyone had full bellies, and the kids were starting their third round of bingo.

“Stop cheating, Henry,” Emma said and threw one of her bingo markers at him.

“I’m not cheating, Em,” he responded and glared in his sister’s direction.

“You are cheating! You keep winning. You have to be cheating,” Emma refuted and threw another cardboard marker in his direction.

“All right…All right…that’s enough. Emma, your brother isn’t cheating, so stop throwing your markers at him,” I announced with a frustrated sigh. “If you guys can’t get along, then we can’t play any more games.”

The sigh actually had nothing to do with them fighting. Siblings fought; it was a certainty of life. My frustration stemmed from the fact that I was secretly jealous I had to be the one to call the numbers. I fucking loved playing bingo.

“Stop fighting!” Lucy chimed in. “I want to keep playing.”

“We’ll be good, Aunt Lola. Promise,” Emma added with the sugary-sweet smile she unleashed when she was desperately trying to get what she wanted.

“Fine,” I said and got ready to call out the numbers for bingo game number three.

My eyes met Reed’s, and he smirked like he was in on a secret I wasn’t privy to. I tilted my head to the side and mouthed, “What?”

“Call out the numbers, Aunt Lola!” Henry urged, and I pulled a number from the bowl.

“B-15.”

“Yes!” Lucy exclaimed with a fist pump, and Henry and Emma groaned their frustrations.

Before I could call out the next number, my phone pinged with a text notification, and I grabbed it off the coffee table.

Reed: Having fun?

I glanced across the room to find Reed smirking back at me.

What the hell?

Me: How did you get this number?

Reed: I programmed our numbers into each other’s phones while you were having your kitchen meeting with Annie.

Me: There’s no such thing as a “kitchen meeting.”

Reed: Sure there is. I witnessed it. Now, I asked…Are you having fun?

What a weirdo, I thought, but I realized there was probably more to this text. Reed never did anything without underlying motives.

Me: Uh…yeah. Are you having fun?

Reed: I am…but are you sure that you’re having fun?

What in the hell was he trying to get at?

Me: I’m sure, ya weirdo. Stop texting me from the same room.

Reed: So, you mean to tell me you wouldn’t be having more fun if you didn’t have to be the one calling out the numbers and you actually got to play?

Jesus in a peach tree. Did he have the ability to read my mind?

I love your penis, I thought as a test and stared at his face for a reaction. That was the best sex I have ever had, I added for good measure, and his expression never changed.

Thank. God.

Me: Am I that transparent?

Reed: Right now, you’re like a real-life version of the movie Big. You’re literally Tom Hanks in this scenario. A child inside of an adult’s body.

Me: Are you saying I can’t adult?

Reed: At least when it comes to bingo, you can’t.

Me: I’d like to refute that, but it’s useless. Sometimes, I really am a sad excuse for an adult.

Reed: I know. You’re fucking adorable.

Fucking adorable… Why does he keep saying that?

“Stop texting and call the next number, Aunt Lola!” Emma demanded.

“Yeah, I’m ready for the next number,” Henry agreed.

Reed got off the couch and walked toward me. “All right, I think Aunt Lola should play with you guys while I call out the numbers,” he said with a smirk and promptly took the bowl from my hands.

Was it weird that I felt like clasping my hands together and saying, “My hero”?

“You’re totally going down, Aunt Lola,” Henry said with a mischievous grin.

“Bring it on, little muffin,” I retorted and he glared.

“Stop calling me that!”

“What? You’re my little muffin, buddy. You’ve been my little muffin since you were a baby.”

“Ugh,” he sighed. “Stop calling me muffin.”

“Okay, muffin. I’m sorry. I’ll try to stop.”

Reed chuckled and shot a knowing grin in my direction.

Hey, you had to get creative when it came to shit-talking with humans under the age of ten. And I have no qualms about using whatever weapons I have to get into their little heads so that I can win. Bingo is serious business.

Ten rounds of bingo later, all three kids were falling asleep on the couch as they were halfway through their encore showing of Minions.

“I think I need to get them into bed,” I whispered to Reed and nodded toward a drooling Henry.

A soft smile tugged at the corners of his plump lips. “Where are they going to sleep tonight?”

“I’m just going to let them sleep in my bed. I’ll take the couch tonight.”

Reed stood up and gently picked Emma up off the couch without stirring her awake.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

“Just keep your bingo-winning ass on the couch,” he responded in a hushed tone. “I’ll carry them into bed.”

And without another word, I watched him carry each kid to bed.

What a demanding, kind, and thoughtful bastard…

The light to my bedroom was turned off, and the door clicked shut behind him as he moved back toward the couch and sat beside me.

“Thanks for doing that.”

“Thanks for letting me crash your sleepover.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and tucked me into his side. I probably should’ve disliked how good it felt.

“Banana!” the Minions shouted from the TV, and we grinned at each other.

“Want to stay and finish the movie?” I asked without hesitation.

I wanted him to stay.

“Like I’d miss opportunity number two to watch the Minions search for their evil dictator.”

I knew I was treading dangerous territory with Reed Luca, but I couldn’t help myself. I craved him—time, body, perspective…all of it. It was like everything I had originally assumed about him was completely off base.

He could’ve spent his Saturday night out doing a million other things, but he didn’t. He chose to spend his night with me.

His actions tonight spoke louder than any words ever could, and if the flutter in my chest was evidence, my heart had taken notice.

The sun had risen and found its cozy spot within the sky, and if San Francisco were Montana, and we were on a farm filled with livestock, the roosters would’ve crowed over four hours ago. We weren’t on a farm with livestock, but we were in a small apartment with children, and now that I’d experienced it, I was pretty sure it was the same.

The sounds of a trolley car ringing its bell filtered from the street and through the open windows of Lola’s living room. A few seconds later, a police siren sped by—its shrill noise overpowering the rowdy laughter coming from the three kids running amuck—and I smiled.

San Francisco. I loved this city.

It had an undercurrent of cultural electricity that most cities lacked, and it was that spark that drew me in and kept me coming back for more.

I leaned a little deeper into the kitchen counter to listen to what Lola and her sister, Annie, were saying by the door as the kids bounced off the walls of the hallway. I was ninety-percent convinced I’d been relegated to the kitchen just so that Lola could prove a point—kitchen meetings didn’t exist. I smiled at the thought.