Monty After Dark

Chapter 3

"What are you planning for your exciting night off?" I asked.

"Probably just going to watch some movies. What about you?"

"I was thinking of watching the Blackhawks and Kings, but I could be talked into a movie." It was a little presumptuous to invite myself over to her place for a movie, but I had to run some game on her, just to see where I stood.

"I don't think we'd have the same taste in movies at all.," she replied with a laugh. "What about The Blind Side, that one with Sandra Bullock?" she asked.

"I haven't seen it," I said. "But I heard it's good."

"Movie night it is," she said.

"I actually have to work early tomorrow, so it won't be too late of a night," I said.

"Where do you work?"she asked.

"I sharpen skates at the pro shop over at Centennial," I replied.

"Of course you do," she said, laughing. "Do you think maybe I could take your photo some time?" She seemed embarrassed. She takes photos of Roberto Luongo for a living and her face is red asking me if she can take my photo.

"Yeah, of course. Anytime you like," I replied.

"Now, for some snacks," she said. Chan always had good food, so I was curious to see what she would want to have for a snack.

Note to self, I need to perfect that lemon chicken recipe, and invite Chan over for dinner.

"I hope you don't mind if I pick up a couple of other things," she said as we walked into the grocery store.

"Of course not," I said. "You're driving."

She navigated the store with ease, picking up loads of fresh fruit, white cake mix, one of those little cartons of egg whites. I wondered what all these things were for, as she picked up random items. For a second, I hoped maybe she was making something for me. Chocolate whipped cream, white and dark baking chocolate, butter, eggs, and powdered sugar. She added Tostitos, green peppers, tomato, pre-shredded Tex-Mex cheese, salsa, sour cream, green onions and black olives. Fresh mozzarella, some Italian bread, tomatoes, pesto, and fresh herbs. Some of those cinnamon buns, the kind you bake yourself, but without the icing, and a brick of cream cheese. "I make my own icing," she said and winked. She winked. At me. I tried to wink back at her but she wasn't paying attention.

"Oh wait, stay here," she said as we stood in line. "I'll be right back." She darted down an aisle, returning with two tubs of Ben and Jerry's. I watched her tits bouncing as she approached.

"You're going to spend 14 dollars on ice cream?" I asked.

"Sue me," she said, throwing her head back as she laughed. I eyed her creamy white throat, wondering what pleasure it would bring us both if I could just lay one small, soft kiss. And maybe a little nibble.

We had decided to go over to my house to watch the movie, because our TV was bigger. We really didn't need a TV that big when he was never home.

Chan sat in dad's arm chair. "I'm not going to bite," I said. "You can sit on the couch." We had gone back to her house to drop off the groceries, she asked if I minded if she put on her pyjamas. I said no.

I was expecting saucy lingerie and began envisioning a scantily-clad Chantelle, posing for me while I used her camera to shoot photos of her lounging on the bed.

She returned in flannel pyjama pants with the Canadian NHL team logos on them and a hoodie that had the name of some French hockey team on it.

"Are you French!?" I blurted before I could stop myself.

She laughed. Really hard.

"You couldn't tell?" she asked. "Chantelle is a French name ... I grew up in Quebec ..."

"Well, you don't have an accent or anything. How would I know? Besides, I like the French," I said, back peddling. "French fries, french toast, french doors, french dressing, french ... kissing?" I felt my face getting hot.

"Matty are you blushing?" she asked.

Sandra Bullock had done her hair blonde for the movie. Damn, she's hot for an old chick. The movie was really good so far. Chan had a pillow in her lap.

I reached over the end of the couch and stole a spoonful of her ice cream.

"Hey! Get out of there!" she said laughing.

The front door burst open. I hauled ass down to the opposite end of the couch, stealing the pillow to cover up my lap.

"Hey, Dad," I called, pausing the movie.

"Matthew, why is your lacrosse shit sitting in the middle of the Goddamned hallway!? If I've told you once, I told you a million times to ..." he was ranting. Until he walked in the living room.

"Oh. Hi Chantelle," said Dad.

"Don, how are you?" she beamed at him. "We're watching The Blind Side – we just started it – the one with Sandra Bullock, care to join?"

"No, you kids have fun. I'm going to turn in early tonight," he said.

Dad was glaring at me.

"I have to go to the washroom," I blurted and left the room.

I snuck down the hallway, pulled the door closed behind me and strained to listen to what Dad was telling Chan. I hoped like hell she wasn't in trouble.

"Chantelle, I'm really sorry about Matthew," Dad said. "If he's bothering you, just let me know, I feel he's wearing out his welcome."

"Really, Don, I don't mind having him around at all. I have a little brother, too, and having Matt around actually makes me feel better," she said.

I felt like I got punched. Little brother.

"I'm glad," said Dad. "I haven't seen him like this in a long time. Especially not since Mrs. Murphy passed. He seems ... happy."

"He's honestly a delight. You've done well raising him. He's a really great kid," she was telling Dad. I was horrified. On one hand, it made a little bittersweet feel in my stomach as she talked about what she thought of me, but at the same time, first of all, fuck my dad, he didn't do shit to raise me, that was all Mrs. Murphy and yours truly. AND. This was not what I was going for. I don't want to be her little brother.

I want her to want me the way I want her.

I want to do disgusting raunchy things to her all night.

... And then wake up the next morning next to her.

Oh God.

What have I done?

I splashed cold water on my face. I need a game plan.

"Hey, Dad," I called, walking back down the hall. "Can you give me a lift to work tomorrow?"

"Sure," he said. "I'm going to get to bed. Don't stay up too late."

"Don't worry. Chan will make sure I get to bed at a decent hour," I replied. "G'night."

When the movie was over, she got up from her seat on the couch, yawned with a big stretch, which made her boobs stick out and her shirt lift up. I checked around her waist to see if her thong was showing again. Except it looked like she wasn't wearing any underwear. Jesus.

"See ya later?" she said as she headed towards the door. I didn't know what to do. Should I hug her? That's not a good plan. Is it? Maybe if she hugs me, she'll like it?

"Yeah, sure," I replied, walking slowly behind her, debating my next move. "Thanks for the movie."

"Anytime, kiddo," she said. Kiddo. It stung. Before I could figure out what to say to that, she gave me a quick hug. "Have fun at work tomorrow!" And then she was gone. I banged my head against the door in frustration after I shut it behind her.