we’d hooked up, and his mom had tried to ask us if we wanted any snacks. How awkward that had been. Archer’s dick inside me while his mom was right outside, oblivious.
It’s a good thing we were trying to take it slow this time, huh?
When he opened the door, I saw his mom carried a plate full of cookies—enough cookies that it might constitute a dinner instead of a snack. Archer took the plate from her, thanking her.
Bernie’s blue gaze, much like her son’s, flitted to me in the room. “Do you guys want any milk? You always need milk with cookies—unless you’re lactose intolerant, in which case you can have anything you’d like.”
“Mom, we’re okay,” Archer tried telling her. “Thank you for the cookies.”
“I’ll get you two some milk.” His mom practically bounced on her feet as she disappeared down the hall, and Archer let out a sigh, leaving his bedroom door open as he brought the plate to me, setting it down on the blanket before me.
Archer was quiet for a little while, his eyes on the cookies. Something unseen passed across his face, and he whispered, “She hardly ever bakes anymore. She used to do it all the time when I was younger.” A wistfulness coated his words, an invisible longing I could feel. I bet he’d give anything to go back in time and somehow get her help before she got to this point. To the point where cookies were a momentous occasion.
I set a hand on his back, rubbing small circles. Honestly, I didn’t know what to say. I’d never truly known loss; it wasn’t like I was close to any extended family. Mom had kept us pretty closed-off from her side, and Dad’s? Hah, like that side of the family was even worth bringing up. Until recently, I’d thought he was as good as dead, but if he was a bad man, odds were his side of the family was, too.
No, I’d never known loss, and that’s why I had no idea what to tell Archer in this moment, how to make him feel better. I had the depressing notion that there was nothing I could say that would make this okay. Sometimes you just had to live through the storm to see the next sunny day.
When his mom returned with two tall glasses of milk, we accepted them with smiles and thanks. Bernie took her time in leaving, throwing us glances every few moments, as if she wanted to remember this moment. As if she was proud of her son, or something.
Did she know she was losing it? Did she know she was getting worse? I didn’t know what was worse; her not knowing or her knowing enough to be aware that there were days she just wasn’t able to be in her own head?
Standing under the doorframe, she held a hand on the knob, going to close it. Before she did, Bernie said, “If there’s anything else you two need, just let me know. Have fun.” With a warm smile, she closed the door and left us to our own devices.
We took our time in eating the cookies, and even then, we couldn’t eat them all. Bernie had piled them so high on the plate it would take a whole family to finish them off. When the milk glasses sat empty and we were full of cookies, we got back to cuddling.
“This is nice,” I spoke to Archer’s chest. “I wish we could do this more often.”
“Who’s to say we can’t?”
I tilted my head up to look at him.
“I’m not saying we advertise our relationship to the whole world yet, but…I wouldn’t mind spending more time with you,” he said. “Need to make up for lost time.”
That, I could heartily agree with.
Scooting myself up, I pressed my lips against his. The sweet, tender moment didn’t last too long, though, for in the next moment I was giggling against his mouth.
“What?” he asked.
“You taste like cookies,” I murmured, licking my lips before adding, “they were pretty good cookies.” And then I went back for more, doing a bit more licking than I normally did during long, sweet kisses.
Archer didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he rather seemed to like it. We ended up laying down on the mound of pillows, his body pressing against mine and reminding me just what I was missing by taking things slowly with him. The lean muscles, the thick dick, the semi-tanned skin that looked ridiculously amazing when