RoomHate(54)

“Want to go grab an early dinner?”

Even though Justin’s text had managed to squelch my appetite, I said, “Sure. That would be great.”

Roger and I left the festival grounds and had dinner at the Brick Alley Pub. We talked non-stop throughout our meal. He spoke about his upcoming trip to Irvine to visit his daughter. He beamed with pride whenever he spoke of Alyssa, and it occurred to me how lucky she was to have a father who cared for her so deeply; Bea wouldn’t have that. I could only hope that someone would fill that role for my daughter someday.

Despite the sexual game Justin was playing all of a sudden, he still gave me no assurance that he really wanted to be with us long term. Even though he was so great with Bea, there was no real indication that he was interested in being more than just her “uncle.” His assertion that we should be “f*ck buddies” certainly didn’t count. Justin and I couldn’t really be together so long as he didn’t want children in the long term.

Roger drove me home after dinner. I intentionally didn’t invite him in because I wasn’t in any mood for Justin’s antics.

He lingered. “I hope we can go out again soon.”

“I’d really like that,” I said.

Despite my obsessing over Justin throughout the day, I really did enjoy Roger’s company. He was smart, articulate and a really good listener.

When I opened the door, Justin was sitting on the couch watching television. Bea was cradled in the crook of his arm.

“How was it?”

“It was a lot of fun, actually. You would love the jazz festival. You should check it out. Tomorrow is the last day,” I said, plopping down on the couch next to him.

“Good.” He smiled, but it was more of a chastising grin.

I took Bea from him and kissed her. “I missed you, Bea Bee.”

“I’ll get up so you can feed her in private. I suppose you’re not hungry for dinner.”

“No. Roger took me to the Brick Alley Pub.”

His expression darkened. “Great.”

Pots and pans clanked as Justin not-so-quietly prepared himself something to eat in the kitchen while I fed Bea. She fell asleep on my breast, so I put her upstairs in her crib. It was earlier than her normal bedtime, so I knew she would probably be waking me up in the middle of the night.

When I returned to the kitchen, Justin looked like he’d been waiting for me. He was wearing a gray hoodie that was halfway zipped up over his bare chest. He had the hood over his head. Looking quite tense, he was pulling at his sleeves.

“We need to talk, Amelia.”

“Alright.”

He lifted his face to look me straight in the eyes. “I don’t want you going out with him again.”

“You can’t dictate who I go out with.”

“Well, I don’t want you going out with anyone.”

“I don’t understand how you think you have a right to say that.”

“Then hear me out.”

“I’m listening.”

“You said you don’t want anything serious right now.”

“That’s right.”

“Neither do I. I just got out of a long-term relationship. I really can’t handle serious at the moment.”

“So, you think I’m the perfect candidate to screw around with? Don’t you have enough options? How about that redhead that gave you her number the other night when you didn’t even notice Bea and I standing right there.”

His expression turned angry. “What? You came to Sandy’s that night?”

“Yes. You played Daughters. It was very touching.”

“Why the f*ck didn’t you tell me you were there?”

“You were busy.”

“You were all I could think about that entire night, Amelia. Every f*cking song, I was thinking about you or Bea. That’s the truth. I don’t even remember that woman’s name.”

“Well, that’s irrelevant I suppose. Get back to what you were saying…about wanting me to be your whore.”

“It’s not like that. AT ALL, Amelia.” Looking uncharacteristically nervous, he said, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. You’ve made it clear that you need someone to satisfy your needs. I don’t want you f*cking around with some random guy who doesn’t care about you. Contrary to what you might think, I do care about you. So, I want to be the one to take care of it for you.”

“Take care of it? You’re making it sound like having sex with me is a surgical procedure.”

“Far from it. And take care of it isn’t the right term anyway. Technically I’d be f*cking you into oblivion.”

“I’m not going to be anyone’s mercy f*ck, Justin.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” He slipped his hands under his hood and pulled on his hair in frustration. “Fuck. Do you have any clue how badly I want you? I need this just as much as you.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re really confusing me. You care about me, but you don’t want to be with me. You just want to f*ck me. It just seems like an oxymoron.”

“I want to give you what you need today…not tomorrow or ten years down the line. Today. It just so happens that what you need is also what I need. I need to satisfy this f*cking itch that has been eating away at me for over a decade. I need to be with you on a physical level before I f*cking explode. But I just can’t put a label on everything right now. I can’t make promises for the future because that would be irresponsible. There is too much at stake. I won’t make a promise to that little girl only to let her down.”