She puts her earbuds in as soon as we get in the car. I’m still humiliated by how much it smells like sex in here. One peek at the back, with the seats still folded down and our blankets strewn around like it’s our own little makeshift bed makes my ears turn red.
I toyed around her with her emotions, and that was wrong. I let her believe we could be casual and that I could just give her pleasure, no strings attached. When has that ever been realistic? Never.
Well actually…
I have no strings attached sex all the time. I hooked up with a woman from the bar a week ago. We were friends and saw each other a lot. We both knew going into it we were only going to have some fun.
Why were things different with Laila?
Because she’s young, that’s why. She doesn’t understand yet that we can’t be in a relationship.
My mind races as I drive, the radio playing on some boring pop hits station, and I glance over at Laila in the passenger seat, zoning out to the music in her headphones.
I knock her on the leg, and she pulls out her earbuds, looking at me with a bored expression.
“Put some music on?” I say, starting as a command but ending it with what sounds like a question.
She shrugs and hooks her phone up to my Bluetooth. Immediately, Mellencamp starts singing, and Laila’s shoulders start to twist to the music, singing along and not missing one word.
“You must have been listening to this a lot,” I say.
She responds with a grin, clapping to the beat. Something warm wedges itself against my ribcage as I watch her sing along, her gritty facial expression as she dances, and I suddenly get a sinking feeling in my gut.
And just like that, I see her in my bed. Coffee in the kitchen. Singing in my shower. Weekend nights in front of the TV. Letting her ride me on the couch.
“Henry!” she gasps, pointing forward, and I almost don’t see the deer galloping toward the highway. I slam on my brakes and swerve out the way. Instinct sends my arm out clutching Laila across the chest as the deer narrowly misses and disappears into the trees.
We’re left gasping, and it takes me a moment before I realize that I have a firm grasp of her breast in my hand.
Shocked, I pull away and apologize. She only laughs.
“You zoned out there for a second,” she says as “Bohemian Rhapsody” begins to play.
I blush, remembering what was going through my mind as I zoned out. When the hell did I start to think about Laila as a…girlfriend? She’s a naive, scatter-brained, beautiful, sexy-as-fuck twenty-one year old. Not my type at all.
But then again…she’s fearless, bold, and so fucking adorable when she sings. I’m constantly stuck dating women who are so dull, who see dating as some sort of survivalist game. But Laila…just wants to have fun. So, what the fuck is wrong with me? Why don’t I want to have fun?
“You okay?” she asks.
“I’m fine,” I say, clearing my throat.
Looking over at her, I realize that the real reason I turned her down at the sex shop was because I wanted to protect myself. I couldn’t stand to get attached or catch feelings for my daughter’s friend and those visions of her in my life will never come true. It only puts me in a worse mood, a mood even Laila singing Queen couldn’t repair.
A few hours into our drive, we stop at a rest area to use the restroom and eat the gas station deli sandwiches which taste like flavorless plastic. She runs up to the restroom, and because I can’t seem to let her out of my sight, I follow her. I know Laila lived a life before me and will live a life after me, but I have to play my dad-card now and just watch over her as much as I can.
I’m feeling reckless and angry with myself. We’re still too far from Vegas to make it tonight, so I call Kirsten to check in and let her know about our delay.
“Hey dad!” Kirsten says cheerfully on the other line.
“Hey sweetie. We had a bit of a delay.”
“Dad, I clearly talk to Laila basically nonstop. I know everything.”
I swallow. Everything? Fuck.
“I know you got a flat. I know you two had to sleep all huddled together in a cold car all night…” her voice trails, and I start to get a bad feeling in my gut.
“We did not sleep huddled together,” I say flatly.
I slept with my hand up her shirt and her bare tit in my palm if we want to get specific, but I’m not about to tell my daughter that.
“Then I heard you took my best friend to a sex shop to buy a pink dildo.”
My heart nearly stops in my chest. “What?” I stammer.
“Chill out. I’m glad that Laila is finally starting to let her freak flag fly. She’s been so sheltered for so long, afraid to be adventurous. I told her that would only lead her into a bland and loveless relationship with some dude that never really made her hit the high notes if you know what I mean.”
“Jesus, Kirsten.”
“What?” She laughs and I hear Andy, her boyfriend in the background. “I’m going to take her to a male strip club when she gets here, like a bachelorette party!”
“Like hell you are. And I’m your father. You really shouldn’t be telling me this stuff.”
“Dad, we’re close now. Closer than we’ve ever been. It’s fun, don’t ruin it.”
I quickly change the subject. “You two haven’t done anything crazy yet, have you?”
“Not yet, Dad. When will you guys be here?”
“Running out of money?” I ask, part joke, part concern.
“No, Andy’s parents have a timeshare here and it comes with all kinds of awesome perks like free buffet and indoor pool access, so surprisingly we haven’t spent much money at all. Well except for booze.”
“That’s good. We should get there tomorrow afternoon.”
“Okay, no rush. We have the place for the rest of the week.”
Just then, I notice something in my periphery, turning to see Laila standing at the entrance of the restroom, waving me over.
“Kirsten, honey, I gotta go. I’ll check in later.”
I hang up the phone and run over to see what’s wrong with Laila.
Just as I’m about to ask her, she holds her finger up to her mouth, signaling me to be quiet. With a concerned look, I stare at her as she pulls me toward the door. Then she points at a stall I can barely see from the door. Laila covers her face, trying not to laugh, and after a moment of silence I finally make out the very clear sounds of slurping and moaning. Just underneath the stall door are two pairs of feet. One obviously a man’s and the others a woman’s in what looks like an uncomfortable, low crouch.
Someone is getting a blowjob in the rest stop bathroom.
“I peed in the stall right next to them,” she whispers in my ear. We are so close I can feel her breath on my cheek.
“Well good for them,” I whisper back.
“I’m kind of waiting to see what happens next,” she laughs.
I look at her with a smile. “I think you know what happens next, Laila.”
She giggles silently. “I mean, I want to see if he returns the favor or if they will do it. Maybe it’s just an appetizer.”
“It’s really best as an appetizer,” I whisper, then instantly regret it. Yesterday we could have these conversations. Today, it’s a different mood. We’ve already made things awkward. But now she’s looking up at me, biting her lip, and I want to kiss her.
The girl behind the stall moans, her sounds clearly muffled by the dick in her mouth, but it’s followed up by the man’s moaning.
“Ben told me I wasn’t very good at it,” she whispers, like she’s testing the waters, trying to see if we can have these talks again.
“Ben is a douchebag,” I reply. “I’m sure…you’re just fine.”
Oh my God, what am I doing? Besides imagining her perfect thin lips wrapped around my cock. I’m edging back into dangerous territory where I let her think we can just be casual and have fun, when we’ve learned that we clearly can’t.
After a long tense moment of Laila staring at me, still biting her lip like it’s the only thing holding her back, we hear the unmistakable sounds of the champ in stall number one letting loose on the girl kneeling before him.
Something about hearing his groaning release makes things even more tense between Laila and me, so we quickly dash toward the car.
The drive gets quiet and awkward again, but I just keep repeating what Kirsten said to me over the phone.
We’re close now. Closer than we’ve ever been. Don’t ruin it.
I hope she doesn’t count totally falling for and fucking up things with her best friend, because it’s clearly a little too late for that.
