It had been four days since he left her place. Aside from one text exchange—him offering money for her broken couch and her telling him she’d already handled it—they hadn’t spoken. It didn’t help his misery that he’d touched her now. Felt her skin, saw her lashes flutter as he made her come. The memories followed him around, getting him hard while he drove to the shops or sat watching TV.
He’d been with a decent number of girls and some had been kinkier than others. He’d been happy to play along but he’d never gone full barbarian like that, taking control of Cheryl’s body, laying down the law, writing his name on her skin… At the time it had felt so natural, but now he was doubting all of it. What if she’d just faked an orgasm while thinking he was a pushy asshole? And how permanent had that marker been anyway? Maybe she was ignoring him because she couldn’t get ‘Property of Patrick Normal’ off her stomach? His phone pinged and he snatched it up. It was a text from Lola.
Let me know if you change your mind about dinner!
He let out a slow breath. He’d messaged Lola as he left Cheryl’s apartment on Sunday morning saying it was nice to meet her, but he was interested in someone else. Some crazy part of him thought maybe he should take her on a date to make Cheryl jealous, but he didn’t want to use Lola.
Even bringing her up in Cheryl’s apartment had made him feel guilty but as a last resort, it had worked. She had kissed him.
He checked his notifications. Still nothing from her about coming to the gym. He wondered how long he’d stay before bailing. An hour? Two days?
EKKSTACY came through his headphones and he pulled his sodden t-shirt over his head and lay back on the weights bench, staring at the ceiling. He meant what he’d told Cheryl; unless she had reasons for not wanting to be with him—and not just some stupid hang-up about his age or inability to lay pipe better than an old man—she was his girl.
The way they fit together, how she’d said his name, it was so new it hurt, and yet some part of it felt like they’d been doing it for eternity. Already perfected the art of fucking each other. At least it had when he’d walked out of her apartment, sure she’d call in a couple of hours. Had he come on too strong? Pushed too hard? Or did she really believe he was too young for her?
He prayed it wasn’t that one. His age was the only thing he couldn’t change.
His music cut out as a call came through. Heart pumping, he answered. “Hello?”
“G’day, Youngest,” came the calm voice of his dad.
“Hi,” Patrick said, trying not to sound disappointed. “How’s everyone?”
His old man always cut to the chase and this call was no exception. “Good. Just wanted you to know Mum’s bought Colin some kind of truck for his birthday, so send her a hundred bucks and we’ll put your name on the card.”
“I already got Colin a present.”
“Oh. Well, you can give that to him as well, if you want.”
“I mean, I probably will…”
“Sure. The address’s 100 Pine Road if you’ve forgotten.”
Why did everyone in his family think he was useless? “I can remember where my nephew lives, Dad.”
“Of course you can. Haven’t forgotten it’s almost your birthday too, Youngest. Doing anything with Cheryl or your other mates?”
‘Cheryl or your other mates.’ Stellar fucking drive-by from his old man.
“I don’t know yet,” he said. “Playing it by ear.”
Actually, he had an offer to go to a sportscaster awards thing in Wellington that weekend and hoped he and Cheryl could fly out together. Take their first holiday as a couple. Though right now that seemed as likely as a holiday on the ass-end of the moon.
His old man cleared his throat. “Alright, well, feel free to come home if you can’t make up your mind. We’d love to have you.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“And bring Cheryl if she’s around. Your mum says there’s some bloke at the clinic who wants to meet a nice girl. Some GP who breeds bulldogs.”
Drive-by number two.
“Cheryl’s busy,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Oh, that’s too bad. Anyway, I’ll let you go, mate. Gotta get to Bunnings before it closes. Your brother needs some new latticework in the yard. Talk soon.”
He hung up and Patrick resumed staring at the ceiling. He loved his parents and knew they loved him, but with five kids, their attention had always been limited. Now all his older brothers were married and had their own families, his mum and dad were busier than ever. It shouldn’t matter that his folks didn’t have much time for him—he was a grown man and living in a different state—but sometimes he felt like a pawn in the Normal family chess game. At least he was a professional footy player. If he wasn’t, he’d probably be more like a bit of fluff that got accidentally stuck to a bishop.
He sat bolt upright. “Shiiiiit!”
