Jay's Loelife

chapter

thirty-two

jay

The silverware against the plates isn't enough to drown out the deafening silence. Loren stares at his food like he's waiting for it to swallow him whole, which I think he hopes will happen soon.

I set my fork down and cross my arms on the table. "So..."

Loren shakes his head, shoots several daggers out of his eyes, begging me to shut up. I ignore him because we're all adults here.

"Listen, I'm sorry you heard about us moving to Denver on social media. That wasn't our intention. We planned to tell you this week, but things moved quicker than we expected. The whole thing went from '

don't tell anyone because it's just an idea'

to '

it's happening'

really quickly."

"The last time we talked, you weren't moving back home because you were staying in Seattle. But now you've decided to move to Denver, on a whim?" Mom accuses, disbelief reflected in her expression. She is not taking the news well. In the past I would have tried to soothe her feelings, but this is something she needs to come to terms with on her own.

"That's true. When we talked about this last, the plan was to stay in Seattle. Since then, the plan has changed."

"But you still aren't moving back home."

"Not to Wisconsin, no. To be honest, I don't owe you, or anyone else, an explanation. Loren and I want to move to Denver so we're moving to Denver."

"Jay Clarence Petermeyer..." Dad full names me as a warning, as if I should wash my mouth out with soap for being so forward. Loren is still looking down, his eyes wide with fear and humiliation. I'm sure if a hole opened up in the floor, he would jump without hesitation.

"What Dad? Neither of you live near your parents. Yours live in Cleveland and Mom's live in Detroit. I don't know why you feel that we have to live here. I'm sorry if this is hard to hear, but kids growing up and moving away is part of life. You raised three kids who are now adults. We're starting our own families. That doesn't mean we won't visit. I still have my cabin and will absolutely utilize it. But we have a lot of things we want to do. There's been a whole life I haven't lived because of football and I'm excited to see what's out there."

"Will you at least come for the holidays now that you're not playing?" Mom asks, not thrilled she's been reduced to this.

"Some of them, absolutely."

Her mouth drops open.

"Sorry Ma, but Loren has family, too."

I can

feel

Loren trying to strangle me with his mind powers on that last comment.

Mom takes a deep breath and gets up. "If you'll excuse me, I'm not hungry anymore." Of course, her departure prompts Dad to leave as well. He doesn't say anything, just levels me with a look of disappointment so strong the ground beneath me rattles.

"Well," Taylor says, not bothering to hide his smile now that the parents are gone. "That went over well." He puts his arm around Niki, who leans into him, grinning into his shoulder.

Loren, well, he glares at me. "They will

never

like me."

"They don't hate you. They're just mad because I put my foot down. It will get better."

"Before or after they put me six feet under?"

Danielle nudges Derek. Derek clears his throat. "So...do you think now is a good time to tell them I got traded to Vegas or...?"

What?!

"Vegas?!"

Taylor doesn't look so happy. He likes playing with his brother. They get a lot of mileage as the Petermeyer duo, but he's happy nonetheless.

"Yeah, we just found out two days ago."

I walk around the table and hug Derek. "You guys will be so much closer. Loren and I can babysit Lizzy all the time."

Derek reaches down into the car seat, where his daughter is sleeping, and smiles. "That is the plan."

Speaking of Loren...

Instead of celebrating this monumental moment with the rest of us, he's watching my brothers and their wives, studying them like lab rats. When he sees us watching him, he leans forward, brows furrowed in a serious expression. "Did you guys abstain from sex while you were engaged? Or did I just

really

luck out with Jay?"

My brothers look at me, amused by the timing and innocence of the question, then the room bursts into laughter.

I lean over and kiss one very confused Loren on the forehead. My sweet, horny fiancé is having a very difficult time adjusting to our premarital arrangement.

****

I come through the back door. Half unpacked boxes are pushed off to the side while others remain untouched and stacked against the wall. With the opening of the cafe just around the corner, we've been living like this for months. Getting the house put together is not as simple as one might think. Not when Loren is involved. You can't just come home one day and put stuff away.

He has a whole segment planned out. Loren wants to detail home organization room by room. There are people who specialize in this type of thing and they're coming to our house so he can document the entire process. Until then, I'm not allowed to touch anything.

The house is quiet. Loren's van is outside, so I know he's here. I set my things down and tiptoe to the living room. The curtains are half open, flooding the space with the warmth of a late afternoon in June. Loren is sprawled across the sofa with a throw blanket draped across his lap, staring absentmindedly at the ceiling.

He doesn't move or acknowledge me as I sit next to him.

I brush his hair from his forehead. "What's up?"

He sighs deeply and turns his head toward me. He looks so...melancholy. "It hurts."

We haven't done much outside of the cafe in months and Loren doesn't leave for his annual rock climbing road trip for another month. Dread curls in my belly like sour milk. If there's something wrong and he goes rock climbing, then who knows what could happen?

"What hurts?"

He takes a deep breath and moves the blanket. His pants are pooled around his thighs and his dick is so hard it's touching his belly button. With a heavy sigh, he slowly returns the blanket so he's covered. "I saw this depressing meme today that said 'You never know the last time you do something, is going to be the last time you do something'. When I proposed, I didn't know there'd be no touchy touchy for seven-hundred years."

I smile to myself. He's gone without sex for less than twelve weeks. Most days he's fine, but now and then he gets kind of mopey about it, like someone came and hijacked the local ice cream truck.

"You know why we're waiting until February to get married, right?"

He grumbles, but he knows why. I want my family and my teammates there. That makes it impossible to get married during the season and with the cafe getting off the ground, the summer is no good.

Loren gives himself another moment to wallow before pulling up his pants and hopping off the couch. "It probably won't work by the time February rolls around," he warns me, not for the first time. "It's like a high performance car that doesn't get used. Garaged its whole life, poor soul. Never had a chance to run free on the open road."

"Pretty sure you ran free for a long time."

He waves me off. "Doesn't matter anymore. This Lambo will die in the garage. No more vroom vroom."

"Good thing you're not dramatic or anything."

He cups his junk. "Hope you'll be okay when it shrivels off."

"Sure."

He glares. "It's not a lizard. It won't grow back."

"Probably for the best," I say, just to get under his skin. "Maybe you could burn off some of that sexual frustration by cleaning."

Loren glares. "This isn't a time for jokes." He slumps forward, then heads toward the back of the house. "I'm gonna go sit in the garage for a little while. Get a feel for my new life."

The next day, Loren is back in action. The remodeling has wrapped up. I have to hand it to Loren. He's a master. He took an ordinary, run-of-the-mill cafe, and revamped it into one hell of an experience. It has Loren written all over it with its climbing wall, campervan themed gift shop, and an overall DIY feel. He absolutely nailed it.

Loren walks around the cafe with his camera. "

Loelife Cafe is opening in less than thirty-six hours. We have tons of giveaways, including limited edition Loelife Drink of the Week t-shirts for the first four hundred customers. There will be free drinks, stickers, gift cards, and a lot more. Only six hours left to submit your reel into the Loelife Cafe contest! Winners will be announced at noon on the day of the grand opening."

Loren bends down and points the camera on Carson, who's been wrapped around his leg all morning. "

What time do we open?"

Carson shakes his head and buries his face into Loren's leg

.

Loren laughs and returns the camera to his face. "

Doors open at seven. Don't forget--"

Aidan perks up from where he's messing with a bunch of stickers and darts to Loren and pulls his arms so the camera comes down to his level. He leans to the side so he's in the frame grinning wildly.

"It don't matter if you live da high life or da low life. Make sure you live da best life!

"

Loren laughs and stops recording, then high fives Aidan and picks Carson up off his foot. "Wanna see what I got you guys?"

Of course they do. Well, Aidan does. He's right on Loren's heels as Loren bends over the counter and grabs a cardboard box full of shirts for the staff. He ordered little shirts for the kids, all of whom will be here on opening day. The kids' shirts say '

we're cool beans'

and has a camper van with coffee beans bundled up in blankets.

****

The opening is total insanity. My fiancé smiles at me from the other side of the glass door. His cheeks and nose are pink and his breath fills the air around him like a smoke cloud. He crooks his finger, beckoning me. I'm the face of this thing too, per his very specific instructions.

I slip outside and smile as Loren points the camera at me.

"Okay Jay, what would you order if you were first in line?"

"Easy. Dirty Dr. Pepper." It was the first drink I ever had that was attached to Loren. Dr. Pepper, coconut creamer, and lime juice. It's been a favorite ever since, for sentimental reasons. The drink itself is, meh. Loren smiles, secretly pleased I'm such a sap.

He turns to the line and shouts, "

Half priced Dirty Dr. Peppers all day!

"

The line doesn't stop all summer. Loren had the forethought to order an excessive amount of merch, much to Seamus' chagrin. In the end, it was the right call. We're ordering replenishments in less than two weeks.

When we're not at the cafe, we're traveling. We score a contract with Flyblue Aviation, a private charter company. The hopping between Denver and Puyallup is enough to justify it, but we're also traveling to Las Vegas and Scottsdale. Soon it might just be Vegas, if Loren succeeds in convincing Lars and Courtney to move our way.

When football season starts up, we travel to as many games as we can. With Derek and Taylor playing for separate teams, it's a challenge to coordinate. Lucky for us, when we announced the move, my assistant David was happy at the chance to work remotely. It's paying off. He's a pro and coordinates everything seamlessly.

Life is good. Best it's ever been.

****

The second I walk into the house, I know I'm in trouble. There is a trail of Loren's clothes leading through the house like tempting but forbidden breadcrumbs. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. If I'm going to make it out of this alive, I need to keep my wits.

Loren is not making this celibate thing easy on me. It's growing increasingly hard to say no when he's half naked and looking hot as sin all the time. I know he's doing it on purpose, but when I look at him; he feigns cluelessness.

Once I'm composed, I put on my brave face. "

I'm home.

"

"

In the living room.

"

All the breathing doesn't prepare me for Loren doing the downward dog in tight boxer briefs.

He looks at me from between his legs and smiles. "I wasn't expecting you home yet."

The hell he wasn't. "I'm an hour late. I sent you a text."

"Oh, must've missed it. I've been busy..."

Seducing me.

"I'm just about done."

He swoops into the upward dog, squeezing his ass tightly as he does.

I practically run out of the room, my heart racing and my dick hard as hell.

To be honest, I'm starting to re-think my rationale. Maybe waiting until marriage is over hyped. Maybe my brothers and friends don't need to be there. No. No. We can do this. All I have to do is keep busy. So damn busy. Just six-ish months to go.

I can do it.

****

I can't do it.

I roll towards Loren, slide my hand down his stomach, and pull him against me. He feels good. So warm. I bury my face in his neck and enjoy the last moments before the day starts.

Loren stretches, pressing his thicc ass into my crotch, which is so hard for him. I grip his hips to keep him away, but I find myself pulling him closer instead. I can't help it. I'm weak.

He stills. I wonder if he knows just how weak I am. If he presses it, if he pulls his boxers down or touches me, in any way, I will cave.

He twists around and looks at me. His eyes flash dark and his lip curls. He knows. Like a viper ready to strike, he flips around, straddles my waist, and pins my hands to my sides.

I shutter. I have my out. I can feign helplessness. He's a strong guy. He can take me.

His lips teasingly graze mine, not quite giving me everything I want. "Look at you." His words are thick and judgemental, calling out my hypocrisy. He lets one hand go and shoves it between us, grabbing my erection until my back arches off the bed. "You finally hit your limit, huh?"

"Just do it," I beg, every muscle taut with anticipation.

His lips slam against mine. I pull him closer, grinding his body against mine, chasing that sweet relief.

"You want it," he says. "You want to fuck so bad."

I nod and tug at his boxers, but his position makes it frustratingly impossible to get rid of them. I grip them tightly, ready to rip them off him.

Like a rubber band, Loren snaps back. I reach for him, but he scrambles off the bed and rushes to the other side of the room. He paces, hands in his hair, pulling his locks in frustration, his erection obscenely tenting his boxers.

"I can't say no to sex," he growls. He drags his hands down his face. "You can't put me in that position and expect me to say no."

"I thought you wanted it?"

"I do. I want it so fucking bad."

I lay there stumped, confused why this is an issue. He's spent the last six months making a big deal out of not having sex. Trying to tease me and tempt me every chance he got. He's always been dramatic in front of our friends. He's even taken the topic to social media and polled how many people abstain from sex between engagement and the wedding night.

Only seven percent, in case you're wondering.

Now he's angry that I want it too?

"You want to abstain?"

"No," he says quickly and not very convincingly.

A slow and happy smile spreads across my face as realization hits me harder than sacking a quarterback.

I'll be damned

. I flip the sheets off and stalk my fiancé, who very much won't make eye contact. I grab his hips and turn him until he's facing me. "

You want to wait until we're married

," I sing song.

He rolls his eyes. "I do not."

"Do too."

"Of course I don't."

"Then get on the bed and spread your legs."

His lips purse. He crosses his arms. I bite my lip from smiling. When he doesn't move to the bed, I back away. I just called his bluff.

I wipe my hands like I'm dusting flour off them. "Our wedding night it is."

****

Later in the day, I find Loren in his office. He's video conferencing with Cole, Corey, and Isaac. They're talking about contract terms. Now that I'm with him all the time, I see how much work he does behind the scenes. There are hours and hours of emails, DM's, planning, personalized videos, Zoom meetings, and content prepping. There's enough happening behind the scenes to justify an army of salaries.

I lean against the door and watch him for a few minutes. It's such a turn on when he's all business. He glances up and smiles before returning to the screen.

An hour later, he comes downstairs. He's distracted, like his mind is still on the conference call. It takes a second to see me sitting at the table. When he does, he does a double take.

He shakes his head. "No. Absolutely not."

"C'mon, for old time's sake."

He sighs and flops down in the chair across from me. He looks at the board, planning his attack. "The decision to use Stratego as a coverup to hide how bad I wanted to snuggle will forever haunt me."

I laugh. "Yep."

Reluctantly, and with great displeasure, Loren moves his game piece. He barely thought it through. The muscle memory is still fresh after all these years.

Game on.

****

"What's that?" I ask.

"Slope ropes."

"And that?"

"Training harness."

"And--"

Loren points to the super short neon straps. "These are called wedgies. It keeps the front of the skis together. And before you ask, this is a baby carrier."

I smile at his stash of baby ski gear and wrap my arms around him from behind. "You're excited."

"Of course. I love snowboarding, but you haven't been able to do it because of your job."

"Sure, but none of this is for me..."

"If I don't teach the kids how to do it now, then they'll be in their thirties and terrible like you."

"You don't know I'm terrible."

Loren shrugs in a

I-guess-we'll-see

kind of way and finishes unboxing all the new equipment and then reorganizes it. This is his trip. He insisted that, because I'm retired and not 'touching his penis', we get to vacation at the lodge for one week. And again, since I'm not 'touching his penis', everyone has to come as 'reinforcements'.

He, Cole, Corey, and Isaac are the only ones who board on a regular basis. I've never been. Matt's never been. I think Seamus, Will, and Scott have gone like...a few times? Maybe in high school for a youth group event or something? Lars went regularly in college.

What I'm trying to say is, no one has equipment. We made plans to rent, but Loren is determined to make this a regular thing. He barely said a word and a truckload of gear arrived at our door.

I would never call him out on it, but I see the way he keeps eyeing the little gear. All the kids have pint-sized suits, helmets, goggles, skis and a snowboard because 'we don't know what they'll prefer'. Mya and Wyatt just turned one, but he insists they can start learning now. The actual twins are safe this year because 'they need to ‌stand first'.

Since we arrive a day before anyone else, Loren takes me out for private lessons. It doesn't take long to realize I am terrible. I can't stay up and when I fall, I can't get back up. It doesn't help that my XXXL ski pants and jacket make me look like the Sta-Puff Marshmallow Man as I flounder to get my footing in boots with no give. I make it down the easy hill a few times, not without frustration, before giving up.

"You can't be good at everything," Loren reasons.

"I don't expect to be good at

everything

," I lie. I have always been good at everything. "Besides, there's a difference between not being good and sucking terribly. I just can't figure out how to do this."

"I like the way you suck--sucked, past tense as it stands now."

I look at Loren and laugh. He reminds me once a day that we're not having sex, as if I've forgotten. I lean to where he is lounging back with his arms behind him. I kiss him carefully. It's a little difficult with our jackets zipped all the way up with goggles and a helmet, but I manage.