Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

LEMON

T here’s a knock on my door and I glance up. My computer says I have practice in ten minutes so who the hell is bothering me now?

“Yes?” I bark, a little testily.

The door opens and Hansley looks at me. My breath catches and immediately, I take back my nasty tone. “Hi,” I say.

He steps inside and closes the door as I get to my feet. “I need a hug,” he tells me.

I practically climb him to wrap my arms around him. Hansley sighs, tucking his face into my neck. Not kidding, since the day I called him in here to hug him in the chair, he’s been here two or three times a day for a hug. Sometimes he’s even shaking.

We don’t talk. We haven’t spoken about his wife or the situation between us since. There’s been no kissing, no sex, no blowies—nothing. I miss it. I’m horny as fuck when I get home. But honestly, I really love this.

I love that he’s coming to me for this. It’s not just that he trusts me, but he wants a hug from me. I try very hard not to feel giddy about it. Because the truth of the matter is, he’s upset. That’s why he needs all the hugs.

Hansley sighs and I tighten my arms and legs around him. “Do you need anything?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No. Just needed this. I’m sorry if I interrupted something.”

“You didn’t. I wouldn’t have been pissy if I’d known it was you.”

His face tucks further into my neck and he leans against the door.

“Your first away game is in two days, right?” I ask.

I feel his smile and I already know what he’s going to say.

“You’re paying attention to my schedule, are you?”

Pressing my lips together, I try not to bristle because yes, I fucking am! It means he’s not going to be here for a couple days, and I hate that. Who’s he going to turn to for hugs then? The thought makes my stomach sour.

“You can just answer the question,” I mutter.

Hansley chuckles. “Yes, it’s Saturday evening in Colorado.”

“When do you leave?”

“Saturday, late morning.”

I nod. “And you’re coming back when?”

“Sunday afternoon.”

“Okay.”

“Are you going to miss me, Lemon?” he asks.

I dig my fingers into his back and don’t answer. Yes, I’m going to fucking miss him. Even if this is the most we’ve spoken in quite a few days. He comes here. He now initiates touch and comfort. From me! No one, and I do mean no one, does that.

Except one of my students, on occasion. But it’s not like this.

His watch vibrates against my back, and I feel him pull his hand away. He sighs. “Practice.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “Me too.”

Reluctantly, I unhook my ankles from behind his back and let my legs fall. Hansley sets me on my feet. Instead of letting me go like he usually does, he rests his forehead against mine, his hands on either side of my neck. His thumbs brushing gently over my jaw. My heart races wildly.

“I enjoy this,” he admits quietly. “Thank you. It means a lot.”

I can feel the urge inside me to brush it off. To tell him it’s nothing and not to worry about it. I need to make sure he doesn’t think I like this as much as I do, so he doesn’t see the hurt I’ll feel when he stops coming around.

But I don’t say anything. I swallow it all down, forcing my mouth to remain closed.

“Is it a hardship?” he asks, his voice low.

“No,” I say quickly. “No, of course not.”

“I don’t have to?—”

“Stop,” I interrupt him. Before I can think better of it, I press my lips to his. His breath catches, but then his hold on my neck has him pulling me closer as he kisses me more firmly. My fingers itch to touch him. To wrap around him again and truly kiss him. But there isn’t time for that.

With the strength of a thousand men, because that’s what it takes to pull back from him, I break our kiss. “Keep coming to me,” I whisper. “I’m… happy to be the one you want a hug from.”

Hansley’s lips curl a little and he nods. Slight, gentle bobs of his head. “Good. You’re my first choice. Expert hugger.”

Rolling my eyes, I pull back.

“Royal hugger,” he teases.

“No. You’d be the royal hugger. Hugging your queen.”

He chuckles. It’s quiet, but I don’t miss it. While my back is turned to him, I allow myself a smile. Shutting the screen of my laptop, I grab my baby blue thermal water container and my bag, since I don’t plan to come back to my office after practice.

We walk through the halls and out of the building in silence. I’m disappointed when we have to split directions and my feet pause as I awkwardly wonder what the proper way to say goodbye is.

Hansley squeezes my hand quickly and smiles. “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

Sighing, I nod. We chat nearly every night. “Yeah. Uh… have a good practice.”

He grins. “You too.”

Just as I reach the field, my phone rings. My heart jumps, wondering if Hansley is calling me for some reason. It’s ridiculous to think so, since he doesn’t have my number. I glance at my phone and frown at my mother’s name.

She knows I have practice right now. This better be important. I wave at Norman, letting him know I have to take this call as I drop my things and turn to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey, baby,” she says and I momentarily smile. “Your reservation is all set. I’ve sent it to your email.”

Fucking email. Ugh. “What?”

“Are you all packed? Your flight is in a few hours.”

I frown further before saying, “You either have the wrong number or you’re going to have to start at the beginning of this conversation because I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, Lemon,” she says, laughing. “Your sister’s wedding.”

“We’ve already discussed this. I’m not going.”

“You need to. It’s important that you all go.”

“I don’t care how important it is. I’m not supporting her. You made your choice, and that’s fine. I get it. She’s your daughter. But I’m not going.”

“Honey, your grandmother will be there and she’s not doing well. I’m not sure how much longer we have with her.”

“You know,” I point out, pursuing my lips, “that’s a real shitty way to guilt me into this.”

“She wants to see all her grandkids, and I thought this was an easy enough event to make that happen since you’ll all be there.”

“Mom, I’m going to say this once, so listen to me. I’m not going to support Saffron. I understand you think the three of us are being dramatic and whatever, but just as we’ve had to come to terms with the fact that you completely disregard how we feel about her, you’re going to have to accept that we don’t give a fuck what she’s doing or what’s happening to her. The only reason I’ll come is to see grandma. I’m not attending the ceremony.”

“Lemon—”

“That’s it,” I cut her off. “I think it’s really shitty that you’re doing this. Especially to Steak. I think it’s really neglectful and says a whole lot that you’ve always put Saffron’s feelings and shenanigans before your other three children. Quite frankly, I’m done with anything having to do with her for the rest of my life.”

My mother doesn’t speak. “Now I’m going to finish my practice, which you damn well know I have right now, and still deemed my fucking sister’s stupid wedding important enough to interrupt me at work, then I’ll get on a fucking plane.”

Before she can answer, I hang up because I’m so fucking close to breaking down with angry tears. I truly hate that she just did that.

As I’m taking a few cleansing breaths, I receive a text from Sugar.

Shugs

Mom’s going to call you and tell you Grams isn’t doing well and we need to go to Saffron’s wedding to see her before it’s too late.

I frown.

Your warning is late. Thanks.

My phone rings a second later and I roll my eyes as I answer, checking my watch as I head back toward the field.

“I’m sorry. Fish decided to act like she’s choking on her tongue as soon as I got off the phone and I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her. It was just her damn tongue, by the way. But yeah, she guilted Steak first and then used that to guilt me and I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to warn you.”

I sigh. “I have to finish my practice. You on the same flight?”

“Yep.”

“Good. See you in a few hours.”

Turns out, I can’t concentrate on practice. So when I tell Norman that he needs to take over so I can head out last minute to see my dying grandmother at my stupid sister’s wedding, he gives me a look that says he understands that on a level that not everyone would.

Sugar is waiting for me at my house and watches as I throw random shit into a small carry-on, muttering shit and generally stomping around my house. “I should wear lingerie,” I say, scowling. “With my dick out. If the room wouldn’t be filled with family who I’m not entirely keen on seeing my dick, I would.”

She laughs. “Oh!” she calls out a second later and I turn to find her holding up one of my tight body suits. “Wear this, Lem. Please, please wear this.”

It’s sexy as sin and probably elegant enough for a wedding. You know, if it wasn’t so tight. But it’s that reason alone I agree and toss it in.

“It’s too bad I don’t have time to shop for some garish shoes. But I am bringing this!”

Sugar cackles as I hold up my hen bag. It’s rubber and tacky and I have it spray painted with neon rainbow colors. It’s roughly the size of an actual chicken. I generally use it during Pride Parades to hold buttons and pins in to hand out. There’s also condoms and lube tucked into the single small pocket, just in case I meet a hottie. I peek in and see the remnants of pins, a couple rubber bracelets, a single flag, and sure enough, the three-ounce tube of lube and a handful of condoms. Unnecessary, but to clean it out would suggest that I care at all about this stupid trip. I don’t. But this rubber hen seems like the perfect finishing touch.

We find Steak at the luggage carousel and wrap him in our arms. He’s taller than me but then, everyone in my family is. Including Sugar and Saffron.

“You okay, baby brother?” Sugar asks.

“If I weren’t so mad, I’d be worse, so I suppose that’s something,” he admits.

“We’re here for Grams,” I say.

“I brought a plaid suit. I bought it just for this.”

“Wait till you see what Lemon’s wearing,” Sugar teases.

Steak grins. “Where are Fish and Patrick?”

“Mom didn’t buy them tickets, and I didn’t want to spend money to get them here when I don’t want to be here.”

Steak presses his lips together. “That’s shitty.”

“Me and Mom are not speaking right now,” Sugar says.

“Same,” I add.

Steak nods. “Me three.”

We stay up far too late complaining and having a good time which led to oversleeping the next day. Then we arrive late to the ceremony and stand at the back when we walk in. The three of us look like a motley crew with me in my skin-tight one-piece and neon-painted chicken purse, Steak in his plaid suit that he accidentally ripped this morning as he tried to get into it half asleep, and Sugar in a big hoop skirt that I’m pretty sure she bought for a Halloween party.

Saffron doesn’t see us as she walks down the aisle. But she does when she and her new husband walk toward the door. Her eyes widen and remain locked on us as she heads in our direction down the aisle. As she’s on her way out, she gives us a small smile.

Was it smug? I don’t know.

We sit with Grams at the reception. She barely sees us.

Sugar leans down to kiss her forehead. “How are you, Grams?” she asks.

“Tired,” Grams answers.

Sugar meets my eyes and then looks at Steak. We know she doesn’t just mean physically. She’s spiritually tired. She’s ready to go. But Mom being Mom, doesn’t want her to. I think we all know Grams is holding on because her daughter isn’t ready to say goodbye.

We keep Grams entertained, ignoring the rest of what’s happening around us. I think it’s huge when we manage to get Grams laughing.

At some point, Saffron approaches and gives Grams a hug. Then she looks at us with the same smile. “I’m really glad you could make it.”

“We’re not here for you,” Sugar declares, and we all watch as Saffron jerks like she’s been slapped. “We’re here to see Grams and to support Steak.”

Saffron’s lips tremble as she looks at me and Steak. She doesn’t speak as she turns and, predictably, dramatically, races off as she covers her face.

I half expect Mom or someone else to come over and try to scold us. No one does. I think everyone knows that we’re more than prepared to cause a scene should they decide we shouldn’t have made Saffron cry on her wedding day.

Right or wrong, we’re here for one reason. Grams doesn’t even appear upset during the short confrontation. In fact, when I turn back to her, she’s looking at us with amusement.

We don’t talk about it. We remain with Grams until she truly is tired and needs to go back to the assisted living home she’s in. If I had one regret about moving to California, it’s that I don’t get to see Grams as much as I’d like to, and I know my time is running out.

I went to California as soon as I got the job offer at RDU, and Sugar followed. Steak headed north to Seattle, leaving the rest of our family behind. I’m sure there are whispers that the three Frost kids left without looking back because of Saffron and our mother and stepfather basically acting like they had a single child instead of four.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m slightly exaggerating. It’s not like we had a bad childhood. We weren’t neglected or forgotten about. We weren’t treated poorly. But we also weren’t treated equally, either.

By the time we’re at the hotel and stepping into the elevator, I think we’re all wiped. There’s no staying up tonight and bickering. I’m heading for bed.

When I step off the elevator and pick my head up, I come to a complete stop as I stare ahead. I’m not really seeing him though, right? I crave his touch so badly that I’m manifesting him here.

But as I stand there, I watch as Hansley picks up his head and takes a breath before stepping into a room. I hear the loud clack of the door as it closes. Without looking away so I don’t lose the spot where he vanished, and without blinking to make sure I don’t, I abandon my mission to go to bed and find myself standing in front of the door.