Dad Bods {ManXMan} NaNoWriMo 2018✔

{EIGHTEEN}

{EIGHTEEN} 

Scott had texted me just as I pulled up to his building, telling me to park my car and come inside. I found the nearest parking meter, thanking God it was free after 6 PM. I walked into the building and was amazed by the size of the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. I walked to the front desk, feeling out of place in somewhere so -- elegant.

"How can I help you, Sir." The woman at the front desk asked me as I got close. She was a larger woman, with dreadlocks in her hair, held back by a white headband that went nicely with her red uniformed shirt.

"I'm here to see Scott Reid, apartment P 543. He is expecting me."

"Name?"

"Sidney."

The woman nodded, picking up the phone and dialling a number. "Good evening sir. There is a Sidney here to see you. Yes sir, thank you." She pressed a button, and the elevator door opened from beside us, "Have a nice day sir."

I waved, thanking her as I stepped into the elevator tapping my foot as it started to rise, going up twenty-one floors before stopping and opening to a well lit, tall floor. Once I stepped out I noticed that the floor only had four doors. Two on each side. I looked at the first door, 541, 542, 543. The last door on the right side. I hesitated before knocking. I heard no sound coming from inside, but soon the door opened and I was left breathless.

Scott stood there in a white dress shirt with the sleeves pulled to his elbows, showing off his tattooed skin, glasses sitting on his head almost lost in his mess of hair, he wore dark blue jeans. But he wasn't the only reason I was breathless. Behind him was a huge apartment, from just the door I could see a large window looking over the city, a curved 80 inch TV hanging on the wall, in front of a large black sectional. Scott smiled at me as I gawked at his home, he stepped aside to let me in and marvel at everything that was his.

The kitchen was off to the side, dark wooden cupboards, counters with black, almost shimmering tops, an oven top built into an island, a very deep sink. The whole apartment was open concept. It was darkly lit, with lights low. "Wow," I mumbled looking around. "You live here alone?"

"Well, me and Freddie."

"Freddie?" I turned to look at him, he was grinning at me with his arms folded, he nodded his head to the right, towards the large window, where a black cat tower stood, and on the top of a pillar was a white cat, contrast to everything dark in the home. The cat -Freddie- was sleeping with its head buried into his own front paws. "Oh, Freddie. Cute."

"I'm sure if he was awake, he'd say thank you." Scott chuckled, coming over, he was now holding a glass of red wine, he handed it to me. "I've got a driver booked, so feel free to drink. A car will be here in twenty." He walked to the couch and sat down, patting the seat beside him. I followed him, taking a drink of the wine before putting it on the black coffee table. Scott sat back, as I sat forward. "Sidney." I looked towards him, he now had a small smiled on his face. He sat up, kissing me on the lips, the taste of wine and cheese on his lips, I pushed forward, kissing him deeply, the wine not yet hitting me, but I guessed Scott had more than a few sips while waiting for me.

His hand found its way to my chest, over my shirt, with a firm hand on my chest Scott pushed me back into the couch, I was still sitting up as Scott kept getting closer, before I knew it the younger man was sitting in my lap, my hands grabbing onto his waist, squeezing him every few seconds, earning a moan or two from him. He was tangling his hands in my hair, getting lost in the moment, while I kept my hands on his waist, forcing myself not to go into them, not before dinner. I refused to go too far and miss dinner. But Scott didn't seem to mind as his mouth found its way to my neck and I groaned, throwing my head back. The younger man pushed his hips into me, the friction of him and my slacks causing me a pleasure, but also discomfort. How did we get here? Why did we get here? I didn't get to ponder that thought much more because the phone that was hung next to his door started to ring. Scott groaned, getting up from the couch and fixing himself as he walked across the room. "Hello? Alright, we'll be right down."

He walked back over, pecking me on the lips before taking my hand and pulling me to my feet. "You're very evil, you know this right?" I looked at him, a small grin on both our faces.

"Oh trust me Doc, I know."

"You're kidding me." I stopped dead in my tracks, looking at the slick black Lamborghini. The same Lamborghini that has stolen my parking spot every morning for nearly three months.

Scott burst out laughing, opening the passenger door for me. There was no driver, apparently, his car was in the parking garage, and he had a chauffeur park it out front for him. He insisted he only had one small glass of wine and was fine to drive. "I loved the notes you wrote for me."

"You're a little asshole." I tried to fake a firm, yet angry voice with him but with Scott laughing, I couldn't help but laugh along. I sat inside the car, Scott got into the driver's seat and drove to the other side of town until we stopped in front of a small, but high-class restaurant. Woodgrove was a well know place that richer people ate. I had taken Janet here for our anniversary one year while the kids were still young.

"This is my favourite spot," Scott said as we were ushered to our seat, Scott apparently made reservations earlier in the day. "I come here for everything."

"How rich are you?" I questioned as we sat down. The place was comfy, the chairs rustic, thick cuts of wood that were stained a dark brown. The whole place was darkly lit, the most light coming from the candles in the middle of every table, the lights hung low, bulbs covered by a small cage, the orange glow low and mixed with the candlelight.

He just laughed, holding the menu up and avoiding my question. The whole night he had his foot running up and down my leg, and every time I moved it he would grin at me, smirking like a horny teenager. I would just roll my eyes, shake my head and eat my food. Which was amazing, I had nothing like it before. Chicken under shrimp with a creamy sauce. The food was impeccable. When the tab came I had insisted I pay for my own food, but Scott wouldn't listen and paid the whole bill, which was over a hundred dollars, before tip.

"Stop being a sourpuss." He teased, bumping my shoulder with his. "How about, you take me for some ice cream." He lifted his brows a few times to me, I couldn't help but laugh and agree.

We were on the far side of town, the only shop open for ice cream was a small corner store a few blocks from Woodgrove, Scott pulled in and I got out with him. The store was empty besides the cashier. I felt free as Scott leaned into me, laughing into my neck at something I had said. One of my hands held his waist, "Stop being cute, it's sickening." I mumbled into his ear, grinning like an idiot. This was nice. It was freeing. We stood in a small store, flirting, being normal. I felt so much like myself it was almost sad.

Scott was still close to me, his head moved from my neck but his body still close enough to me to feel the heat of it, my hand still stuck to his waist as the door to the shop opened. I looked over, dropping my hand from his waist, not wanting to be seen by anyone, even if it was a stranger. The cashier was enough for me. Even that made me nervous.

And if that made me nervous. Seeing my son walk into the store made me sick.