BECCA
Kade’s laughter is such a turn-on. Maybe it’s not just the laughter. It’s the fact that I’m the one making him laugh that feels so good. He can be so contained. So serious. He takes so much on. Being able to help him lighten up feels important and makes me feel like I’m giving him something he can’t get elsewhere.
Kade throws his hand up. “Wait…you’re telling me you shit your pants in front of the entire class?” He’s gasping for breath, his laughter choked. He’s slouched down onto the bench, completely relaxed. His jacket and cufflinks discarded a few minutes into our meal, his sleeves rolled up those tanned forearms.
We’re one of the last ones in the restaurant, our meals finished hours ago. Kade paid the bill and tipped so well the staff has been happy to let us sit, coming by to keep our waters filled but otherwise leaving us alone.
“Not just crapped, Kade. Dad had taken me for ice cream at lunch…” I sigh. “It just…” I make an exploding gesture with my hands, “splattered out. Into my white Gi.”
Kade is howling now, tears running down his face. He’s clutching his stomach. “Oh, fuck Becca. Holy fuck.”
Time to finish him. “It got around the whole Dojo, Kade. Most of the kids called me Torpedo Butt until I was thirteen.”
He’s laughing so hard now that he’s stopped making noise. His whole body convulses in the booth. I cover my mouth, snorting with him. It was horrifying as an eight-year-old, but now, decades later, I can see the humor in the whole thing. And you can be damn sure if it had happened to any of the boys, I would have made up a killer nickname for them too.
I watch as Kade slowly calms, running my eyes over his wide shoulders and sexy arms to the hands currently covering his face.
Finally, he sighs and rubs his eyes. “Fuck Becca. That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.” I nod, putting on a serious face, unable to help myself.
“You should haveheard itthen,” I say with wide eyes and an eyebrow wiggle.
And he’s off.
When he finally settles down, he asks, “What did your dad do?”
I smile, remembering my dad’s attempt at comforting me. “He wrapped a sweater around me, and he took me home to change. He kept telling me it’ll be okay, everyone will forget, but he laughed the whole time. He snickered every time I got called Torpedo Butt.” I pause, remembering. “Actually, I’m pretty sure he called me Torpedo Butt when he talked to other people, but he never did it to my face.”
Kade laughs and whistles. “I bet that pissed you off.”
“So much,” I say, smiling. “But that’s just who he was. He didn’t baby me. He figured I might as well toughen up. So I learned to roll with the nickname. I can’t say I ever loved it, but it stopped hurting me. Not getting a reaction out of me made it boring for them, maybe?”
I snicker. “Plus,” I say, holding up a finger, “I got boobs, and the boys figured they might have a better shot at getting near them if they stopped calling me names.”
“That would do it. Teen boys think of breasts more than anything else.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Really? More than anything else? Even you?”
Kade snorts. “Me more than most. I spent all my time with eight other boys, Becca. We spent our nights either talking about boobs or measuring the size of our dicks.”
It was my turn to laugh. God, picturing a bunch of hormonal boys hiding a ruler made my eyes water.
“Oh Jesus, Kade, tell me you guys had a notebook to keep track of dick growth.”
“Yep. It had a page for each of us. I’m happy to report we’re all doing quite well in that department.”
I feel like I’m dying. I can’t catch my breath through my laughter. Kade’s chuckles blending with mine. We sit smiling at each other for more than a little while before Kade breaks the silence.
“Your dad, was he hard on you?”
I hum, wondering how to describe our dynamic. “My dad was used to spending his time with guys. I’m not sure he knew what to do with a little girl.”
“He wanted a boy?” Kade asks, his voice hard. I shake my head.
“No. I don’t think so. I think he was just happy to be a dad, but when my mom took off, he had to figure out how to raise me on his own while running a business.” I tuck my hair behind my ears, remembering how confusing that time was for both of us.
Kade reaches for my hand, and I give it to him without thought. How is it my hand doesn’t feel right unless he’s holding it?
“When did your mom leave?” he asks quietly.
