Margaret was from a broken family and desperately wanted the suburban family fantasy. Gary didn’t have kids or a dog yet, but he could take the place of the father.
“Well, come on then, Donna Reed,” he quipped, referencing the pearl-wearing icon of suburban motherhood. He wheeled up to the table. “Father wants his dinner.”
And something X-rated right after.
CHAPTER 2
Margaret stretched out her feet on the couch. Her stomach was overstuffed, but the rest of her body felt languidly happy. After the pumpkin pie and way too much wine, the best part of this evening was still to come. For the last two years on her birthday they’d eaten her favorite meal, drank her favorite wine, and then watched her favorite movie. It was a feel-good romantic comedy, While You Were Sleeping, and Gary always made fun of Sandra Bullock while she sighed happily over Bill Pullman.
Margaret knew the movie by heart, so she didn’t need to pay attention. Instead, she planned to stretch out her toes and snuggle her feet up and under Gary’s, which lay on the footrest. She could stroke the calloused edge of his arch, press the heel of her foot against his anklebone, and basically play footsie with him without any of the risk of him becoming aroused. He couldn’t feel any of it. But she got to fondly touch and be touched by a very good-looking man without any of the danger of misinterpretation.
Internally, Margaret sighed. It had taken her years to figure out she was asexual. She really wished she was a normal girl who got wet and stupid because of hormones. She wanted to be hot for a guy, but she just wasn’t made that way. Not one of her boyfriends had inspired that panting hunger promised in books and movies. She simply wasn’t made for arousal, and since men always expected it—and sex—it was better to just hang with a guy who was as dead below the waist as she was.
Except Gary wasn’t as sexually dead as she thought. Lately, she’d noticed heat in his gaze and he’d once tried to kiss her. Like all other guys, he wanted more. He wanted to be a sexual badass who could turn a woman to jelly with a few swipes of his tongue. And how ironic: Even the paralyzed guy had a greater sex drive than she did.
It made her sad, and it put their friendship on borrowed time. She couldn’t be what he wanted: a fully sexual woman who loved him completely. She had half of it down. She certainly loved him. But the rest wasn’t in the cards, and Gary deserved a full life. She had to end their current relationship—for his sake—so he could find the right woman. And yet, she selfishly wanted this last celebration before she said goodbye to him forever.
“You didn’t tell me about Rome,” Gary said as he maneuvered his wheelchair over to the couch. “Did you have any asthma problems?”
She shook her head. “Just one attack right after takeoff. I thought I’d caught the Detroit Flu because asthma’s usually my first symptom when I get sick, but the new inhaler worked great.”
The Detroit Flu. There had already been two waves of infection. Symptoms included fever, nausea, hallucinations and, in a few isolated cases, severe physical disfigurement. That last was the terrifying bit, though no news report gave specifics. What exactly got disfigured and how? Rumors and grainy videos were all over the Internet, but no one had a clear answer. Meanwhile, a quarter of the city was home perched over a toilet. The freeway traffic from the airport had been eerily thin.
Margaret scanned Gary from head to toe. She noted a bright sheen to his eyes and color in his cheeks, but that could just be the wine…
“What about you?” she said. “Any fever? See any pink elephants?”
He raised his hands. “All clear here.”
“Are you sure?” She waggled her eyebrows. “I can check the pee and poop places. I studied all those gross diagrams and watched YouTube videos. Don’t want all that studying to go to waste. Get it? Waste?”
He groaned, but that was okay. She wanted him relaxed about his bodily functions so she could help if needed, and it was a great way to dampen any sexual attraction to her. That’s why she made so many jokes about the situation.
“I’m all good here. You need to pick something else to study.” His biceps bulged as he levered himself out of his wheelchair, and she couldn’t help but admire his ripped torso. He was going to make some lustful woman really happy, and she experienced a pang that it wouldn’t be her. Damn it, why couldn’t she feel anything?
He settled on the couch with a smile. “Did you see anything in Rome apart from the airport?”
“I did,” she said. “St. Peter’s Basilica, which would have been amazing if Jesse hadn’t been an asshole.”
Gary stiffened. “The pilot with the grabby hands?”
“Yeah. He thinks paying for a tour gives him extra privileges.” She liked to see the sights with a friend, and if she were a normal woman she might have been interested. Jesse was fun when he wasn’t trying to kiss her. He was handsome, too, and their careers aligned. But he was too pushy, especially when there was no spark and never could be, what with her being frozen in the sex department. And if she was normal, she’d go for Gary.
“You shouldn’t go anywhere with him,” Gary growled. Wow, he was even red in the face.
“I can handle him.” She laughed Jesse off. “Now quit being a caveman and hit play.” It was time to watch someone else—someone not broken—fall in love and live happily ever after.
She waited expectantly, but Gary didn’t turn on his projection system.
“Gary?”
“Chocolate?” He shoved a large box at her. The gesture was abrupt when, normally, he was all smooth grace. The parts of his body that worked, at least.
“What’s going on with you?” she asked. “You’ve been jumpy all evening.”
“Don’t be silly,” he shot back, then immediately grimaced. “I don’t mean that the way it sounded. I probably had too much caffeine.”
No, it wasn’t that. He was irritable, which was unusual. “You haven’t relaxed all evening. What’s going on?” She glanced at his desk and its bank of monitors. She didn’t understand a fraction of what he did, trading stocks and whatever. “Have the markets been giving you fits?”