Since Amber left, I haven’t had anyone that I could just sit and talk about life with. Not that Amber is in any way like my mother, but she was my best friend. And telling my mom about everything that’s been happening soothes that urge I have to call Amber and fill her in on all aspects of my life. And more than that, makes me feel alive again. Like I’m not the person that people use and abandon. That I mean something to someone.
When we finish eating and are heading back to the car, I ask her, “What do you want to do now? I can show you around the town. We can head back to my apartment. We could see a movie.”
“I want to see where you live,” she says, eyes bright, “But first.” She opens the back of my car and digs around in one of her bags. She pulls out a present that’s wrapped perfectly. Bright red paper and a white bow, almost like a present you would see in a TV commercial. “Tony, my boyfriend, has a friend that lives not too far from here. When he heard I was coming up here he asked if I could drop off this birthday gift so he could save on postage.” She rolls her eyes but she’s smiling. “Can we do that real quick? I have the address.”
Something twists in my gut, but I can’t pinpoint the reason why. It’s not like I expected that the present was for me. “Sure.”
“After I drop it off we can do whatever you want, and I really want to see your place.”
She reads off the address to me from her phone and she’s right, it’s only a ten-minute drive. She keeps talking about Tony and how silly he is, but she loves him so she’s willing to do this kind of stuff for him. The neighborhood we’re in isn’t exactly great, but there are plenty of sketchy neighborhoods around here. The neighborhood I live in right now isn’t exactly high class. We pull up to a house with peeling white paint and I point to it. “That’s it.”
“Okay. I’ll just be two seconds.”
“So you want me to come with you?”
She waves a hand. “No, just a drop off. I’m not going in for tea and cookies.” She hops out of the car and up the stairs and I watch as she rings the doorbell. Not long after a handsome man in jeans and a t-shirt comes to the door. It looks like they have a brief interaction and he smiles wide as he takes the present from her. I don’t miss the way he looks her up and down as she comes back to the car. I don’t like him.
“All done,” she says as she slides back in. “Now, let’s go see your place.”
I don’t say anything as we drive away, but I can’t shake the feeling that that guy isn’t the kind of guy that my mom should be interacting with anymore, and that there’s a lot more going on here than meets the eye. But I can’t lose mom. Not now when she’s come back. Not after losing Amber. I’m not sure how many more losses I can take, so I’m going to enjoy the fact that she’s here and clean and so far, seems like most everything is okay.
8
Peter
Present
Fucking hell.
Shit.
What the fuck was that?
I had a plan. A perfect plan to stay away from Amber and keep it cool and professional and perfectly clean just the way she wanted it. I’m so frustrated that I could scream. I settle for storming across the lot to my trailer and back, and to it again. I scrub my face over my hands because this is too much. Of course this would happen. Of course the universe would put us in a position where we have to kiss, and I have to be the one to stop it. Of course that kiss would feel like oxygen when I’m suffocating.
I’m so hard that it aches and I don’t want anything but to walk back onto set and pull Amber out of there so I can fuck her up against a wall. In her chair. In my chair. On the concrete ground of the lot. I don’t care. I can still feel the imprint of her lips on mine and the way she wrapped herself around my neck. There’s no doubt in my mind that she still wants this. Wants us. But how can she with everything that she said? Not to mention that she nearly just did what she claimed she was so afraid of, getting so lost in our kiss that she didn’t even hear Clay call cut.
I have to do something. Anything. This tension needs to come out. Storming into my trailer, I have one hand on the lock and one hand on my belt. I can’t undo it fast enough, and I’m so hard that when my cock springs free I almost come because of the relief. I drop my hand to touch myself, and I hiss with the harshness and friction. It’s only steps to my bathroom, and I step inside. Most people probably won’t be surprised that I have lotion handy. There are hours and hours of waiting on set, and sometimes you need to blow off steam.