Delilah's Tears

Chapter Eight

"I'm not. I'm right where I want to be, D-doll. I like hanging with you. What's not to like? A girl who can dance around a heavy bag like Muhammed Ali? Every guy's dream, sweetheart." I stuff a wad of fries in my mouth to prevent me from saying anything about the bouncing tits. John, please forgive me man. I have no control over myself. If you have any sway up there, see what you can do about this obsession I have with your wife.

Delilah shrugs and takes a huge bite. "Okay, it's your life."

"Seriously, you did great today. Tomorrow I'll have you throwing real punches. By the end of the week, you'll be cursing me."

"I admit it was fun. I felt foolish though. All those big dudes were laughing at me."

Is she fucking kidding? I saw those so-called big dudes. Laughing was not even close. I'd wager every dick in the place was at full rise. One guy was even so bold as to head toward us until I scowled at him. "They weren't laughing, babe. Not even close."

She makes a face. "Don't bet your salary, James. I saw the glares."

She's so far wrong. I'm not gonna correct her though. Instead, I change the subject.

"I'm meeting a buddy of mine tomorrow. He runs a security firm and has a job lined up for me. We're gonna talk about it and see where I fit in."

"That's cool. Sounds top-secret." She frowns again. "Any chance one of these jobs could get you hurt? Or..."

Crap. "I doubt it. Probably mostly sneaking around behind guys cheating on their wives and taking pictures." There might be some of that, sure, but Neil also deals with things on the sketchier, more dangerous side as well. My rep with firearms is what he's interested in. I'm not telling Delilah this. At least not right now.

****

Finally this day is over. Not that it was unpleasant. It wasn't. Being with Delilah made me happier than I've been in months, maybe even years. She's funny, sweet, happy—except for mourning John—smart and, of course, beautiful as hell. There were times throughout the day where I had to catch myself from tossing an arm around her, pulling her up against me and kissing those sweet lips, or telling her I love her. My heart aches so much I half expect it to seize up on me. My dick? I won't even go there.

I went to the gym again to workout this evening, hoping to wear myself out. After a shower, I slip into bed and flip off the light. Then, lay there staring at the ceiling. I try to concentrate my attention on the meeting with Neil tomorrow. I succeed a little bit, running a list of questions and potential answers through my head. As always, my thoughts swing around again to Delilah. If there's a God up there, I hope he takes pity on me and this job trains my focus off her. Gradually, gratefully, I nod off.

"It's the Two-Jays!" Zander's boisterous shout echoes down the corridor, making heads turn. All John and I did to warrant the one-man welcoming committee is yank open the double metal doors and step inside the high school. "Hey guys, you up for Dylan's party tonight? It's gonna be freaking awesome!" Zann skids to a stop in front of us, raising a hand for a fist bump. My brother and I accommodate in turns.

"I dunno. Dyl's bashes get out of control," John says.

"Aw. C'mon JC, don't be pussy. JD's coming." He peers at me, suddenly not so sure. "Aren't you?"

I shrug. "Maybe. Haven't decided."

Zann's eyes widen in disbelief. "Naw. You asses don't have dates, do you? It's a dates-only party and the Two-Jays couldn't score. Un-fucking-believable." He hoots with laughter, drawing a bit of attention."Since when can't the almighty JC and JD Coury score a pair of tits?"