Page 88 of The Irresistible Distraction

Given this is a man who loves talking, I know I shouldn’t trust anything he says while he’s buried deep inside of me. And yet when he whispers, “Fuck if I haven’t completely fallen for you,” I can’t help but close my eyes.

It is too soon.

Too fast.

So right.

Brody, being Brody, can probably already see my response written across my face. But it’s too soon for me to say anything, and so I kiss him instead, trying to pour all of my hunger and longing into that one kiss. I wrap my legs around him, even as my hips arch to meet him, using my entire body to communicate just how much I’m falling for him too.

25

LEARNING AND BUILDING COMMUNITY

We pick up Seba together, the two of us listening indulgently as my son gives us a play-by-play of every important scene and plot point in the movie. After, Brody comes over and lingers over decaf and hot chocolate, placing snacks in front of my son the way I always do, gently encouraging Seba to eat just a little more as we chat. When Seba tells us he’s tired, he glances over at Brody, and it’s clear to me that they’re both wondering whether Brody might be staying over.

Since I’m not ready for that conversation, with either of them, I stand up and usher Brody to the door.

“I had a lovely time,” I tell him, blushing just a little as Seba walks ever so slowly to his room, blatantly eavesdropping.

“Looking forward to more,” Brody tells me, leaning forward. When I don’t respond, he sighs softly. “No response?”

I look to the side, even though I’ve already heard Seba’s door close. My words come out painfully slowly, stilted now that I can’t hide behind physical intimacy, the shield I never realized sex provided. “I’m really enjoying our time together.”

“Is that so difficult to admit?” He examines my face, eyes narrowing at whatever he thinks he observes. “I know you and Vera have joked about how unserious I am⁠—”

“That was before I met you, and Vera already clarified . . .” I trail off as the bedroom door opens and then closes again, likely Seba going to the restroom.

Whatever Brody might have said, he doesn’t. I watch as he opens his mouth and then closes it again, swallowing his words. Instead, he drops a quick, fierce kiss on my lips before letting himself out.

Saturday morning, I scroll through Jesse’s messages (that his father mentioned something “rather concerning about Seba,” that Jesse and Arthur don’t think I’ve thought this through and could we talk sometime about Arthur’s concerns?) and Cally’s email (that Brody instructed her to book and pay for a two-day photography workshop). It apparently starts today—because I was waitlisted, and a spot just now opened up.

When Brody knocks, I show him my phone, voice shaky. “You did this?”

Brody squints at the email for a moment before confirming. “Well, I asked Cally to, when I was blessed enough to have an assistant.”

He smiles at me, white teeth gleaming, eyes crinkling and perhaps a little tired while I stare, speechless. No one has ever understood (much less supported) my need to keep pursuing . . . educational activities, to sign up for online classes or enroll in community college classes. To me, it was never about degrees but learning and building community, that as a single mom, I’d been desperate to find adults with similar interests.

I tear up, surprising both of us. Brody’s arms are around me in an instant. “Hey.”

“Thank you,” I whisper into his shirt, willing myself to say something about how he ought to ask me first next time, deciding I won’t. “Thank you for thinking of this.”

He leans back enough to look at me, keeping his arms around me, his voice somber. “Have you considered how much more I could do . . . with my credit cards?” I give a watery laugh in reply as he continues. “I forgot to tell you: I’ve also stopped giving Spock and Kirk any steak or chicken and am happy to report that the initial bribery has already secured a lifetime of devotion.”

I sniff. “They’re just Skinner’s pigeons. They’re superstitious because your rewards are random and so they’re waiting for the right combination, trigger more treats.”

Brody chuckles. “Psychology classes.”

I sniffle again. “It’s one of my associate’s degrees.”

He gives me one last hug and then kisses me on top of my head. “I remember. You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. After Sebastian packs, I’ll drop him off at Aidan’s to wait for you?” That was always the plan, something I’m realizing now that Brody probably helped facilitate.

“Make sure you text me your best pictures.”

The workshop is at Big Bear, a forty-five-minute drive away, but because the ecology of the two lakes isn’t really that different, it means that everything I’m trained to look for there, everything I’ll learn about composition and framing as it relates to marsh wildlife there, will translate in Lake Arrowhead as well.

It’s a full-day event, 9:00 a.m. to 8:00 p.m., so that we’ll all be here to capture the sunset, and I’m elated to find that today’s teacher is Sydney Martins, half of the husband-and-wife pair behind Natural Nuances, a website and blog I follow religiously, because of the number of helpful e-books and video tutorials they post (for free) on a weekly basis.