Chapter 84: Galatea

I let Bas’s weird little roommate have Mom’s (or Dad’s) summer home, along with that catboy actor guy and my uncle. The latter obviously wasn’t in the greatest shape, and it wasn’t like we could take him to a human hospital to recuperate.

So Bas and I hightailed it back home, stopping at a cheap motel on the way. “I’ll, uh, rent us a room,” Bas said. “Unless you want your own…?”

“One’s fine,” I said. “I’m kind of unemployed right now, and an actress never really knows when her next gig is coming.”

“I could cover you…?”

“Nah.” Take a hint, idiot.

He sure hauled ass to the motel’s office after that, so maybe he did.

While Bas was busy checking us in, I decided to call my mom. “So, I guess we kind of rescued your brother. He’s in the summer home, in case you were wondering.”

I expected to hear tears of joy or some shit, maybe, but all I got in response was: “I know; he’s my twin.”

Huh. Well, that was that.

“Hey,” Bas said a couple minutes after I hung up. “Got us a room.”

“Must’ve gotten a hell of a deal,” I said, “with a shit-eating grin like that.”

Bas was pretty cute when he blushed. He was pretty cute in general, when he wasn’t busy being hot and mostly naked.

I followed him into a tiny, dingy room (after he apparently got so excited he dropped the key).

“Home, sweet home,” he said.

“God, I hope not.”

I had a nice, big house back in Starlight Shores waiting for me, along with three cats. This room looked like it hadn’t been updated in decades–or cleaned in the last month or two.

He plopped into a chair by the window. “What a week,” he said. “Or however long it was. Just wanna sit down, pull off these pants and relax.”

I sidled up to the chair, laying my hands on his shoulders. “Is that all you feel like doing?”

“You, uh, got any better ideas…?”

“Lose the pants,” I said decisively. “But forget the relaxing part.”

He grinned. “Sounds like the start of a good plan to me…”

For a moment, we just looked at each other. And then he patted his lap. “Sit here?”

“I’m not a cat,” I muttered. “And I’ll crush you.”

“I like to think of myself as pretty durable.” He pulled me toward him–and then onto him.

“…I should shower first.”

“First? Before, uh, what?”

“Before we fuck.”

He let out a nervous laugh. “You–you don’t have to. Not if you’re just trying to make me happy, or pay me back, or…or any reason at all.”

“God, Bas, I want to fuck you, okay? A girl has needs too. …And I like you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, in that case…shower fast.”

Yeahhh, I wasn’t sure how clean I was going to get in this particular bathroom.

And fuck if I was reapplying my makeup again afterward. If Bas was going to see my naked body, he might as well see my naked face too. It wasn’t like I was walking the red carpet–and he was lucky to get to walk the turquoise one.

…Was I really doing this? Here, in this shitty motel room? Now…?

“You look like a giant wad of chewed up gum,” I muttered to the mirror. “And you’re even worse on the inside. How could a guy like him want to fuck you?”

For a second, it was like I was back in that nightmare dump again.

Bas was sitting on the bed expectantly when I came out of the bathroom, like a dog waiting for his owner to feed him.

But his expression changed the moment he laid eyes on me. “Gal, no…”

“What, your boner run away while I was gone?”

Fuck, why did I always make his face look like that? “You don’t need that…whatever that fae magic is,” he said, his voice strained. “You’re beautiful.”

“It’s a glamour,” I said, “and I wouldn’t be able to walk around in public without one. Is it a fetish or something–like, you can’t get off unless I’m fat? Is that the only reason you’re even into me?”

“It kills me to see you like this,” he whispered.

“Because I’m not fat?”

“Because you’re hurting yourself. Because I’m attracted to you, not the woman you think you have to be. I just wish you could see what I see.”

“You walked away from me once,” I said slowly. “Why not just do it again?”

“Because,” he said, getting as close to me as he could, “I regretted it ever since. I just…I couldn’t watch you tear yourself apart from the inside. I couldn’t make you happy.”

My anger deflated like a shitty clown’s balloon. “…It’s not your job to make me happy now–you’re my boyfriend, not my therapist. Sometimes I’ll never be happy, and sometimes I’ll just hate myself for no reason–and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. Are you okay with that? Because if you’re not…”

“…I just wanna be with you, Gal, no matter what. And wait–boyfriend?”

“You think I fuck just anybody?”

“So, uh…that part’s still on?” He coughed. “Because, uh, with the arguing, and if you need some more time to, you know, feel better…”

“My parents angry-fucked all the time.” Okay, they probably weren’t the best role models. Or role models at all. “And it’s still on, if you’re cool with putting up with my shit.”

“…I am,” he said in a low voice, right before I kissed him.

I’d schedule another appointment with Dr. Puck when I got home. But right now, I was pretty sure Bas fucking the shit out of me would make me feel pretty good.

“So, uh,” he said, “what part of you do I need to squeeze to make you go back to normal?”

“Ugh, fine,” I said, but I was laughing.

The laughter made me feel better too. My altered glamour gave way to my usual one, and Bas’s smile…well, I guess I could understand why someone would care so much about making someone else happy, if they had a smile like that.

He pulled me onto the bed next to him–and went straight for my underwear. Funny, most guys would probably go for the bra first.

“I can’t get over how blue–turquoise–it is,” he blurted.

“You’re into some really weird shit, you know that?”

It was kind of hilarious to see a grown-ass hairy man get as excited as a vampire kid in a blood bank. “…Lemme, uh, warm up your engine…?”

“What a gentleman.” Which was true, because it’s not like the guys in Dad’s movies ever bothered.

“Uh, tell me if I’m being too rough…”

I didn’t have to tell him anything–I should probably write a thank-you note to one of his ex-girlfriends, who had apparently taught him where the damn clit is.

I’d been kicking myself for calling him my boyfriend out of nowhere–couldn’t we just hook up like normal people our age?–but maybe I could get used to this…

Yeah, I could definitely get used to this. I’d never really paid much attention to hands before, but I liked his–not just how they felt, but how they looked, too: strong and masculine as the rest of him.

“Gal…”

God, he’d already worn me out. “What do you want, a medal?” I cursed inwardly the second I said it. He was sweet–probably the sweetest guy I’d ever known–and here I was, still giving him shit. He deserved so much more. “Lie back,” I ordered him as I slid off the bed. “I’ll let you relax like you wanted.”

Ugh, mounting a big, sweaty, hairy man was way harder than it looked in Dad’s bullshit movies. Come on, it’s not like you’re assembling a chair from IKEA. My breath hissed through my teeth. “There, fuck,” I managed.

“Holy shit,” Bas breathed.

And I’d only just gotten started.

We hit a snag when he tried to get my bra off. “…Damn, who the hell soldered you into this thing?”

“It’s heavily fortified, okay?” I said. “It has a lot to hold in.”

But I helped him out. He tried so hard and cared so much…I could take care of him too, just this once.

God, when I caught him looking at me…how could anyone look at me like that? Like I was all they ever wanted. Like he’d die if I told him to fuck off forever.

I didn’t want to hurt him, not really. So I tried to make him feel good instead.

I thought it was pretty good, as far as fucks go.

He was panting by the end–and sweating even more. “…Hey, uh, Gal? Is it your, you know…lady-time? I mean, if it is, that’s cool–we can just throw down a towel next time…”

“Nah,” I said. “Why?”

“Because there’s a pretty big red stain on the covers now, and I’m pretty sure that wasn’t one of the stains that was already there…”

“Congrats,” I said. “You just deflowered your first fae.”

His eyes practically bugged out of his head. “…What?”

Great. He better not make a big deal out of it.