The Big O (The Virgin Diaries) (12 page)

D
ear Diary
,

The time has come to have dinner at Dad’s with the boyfriend. Yes, I said boyfriend. I openly call Oren boyfriend. It’s like I leaped out of the closet. I’m not ashamed or insecure of who I am anymore. Oren’s brought out the inner girl in me. We are three weeks into the best summer ever.

Love, O

PS- I still have my V card.

“Hey, Pops.” Oscar yaps and bites at Oren’s ankles as we enter the foyer.

“In the kitchen, Olivia.”

I clutch to Oren’s hand and guide him through my childhood home. He has Pedro the psycho under one arm. Pedro and Oscar have a love hate relationship at best. One minute they’re playing, then fighting, and then dry humping each other.

“You can set him down,” I say to Oren.

“They’re not going to kill each other?” he asks, protecting Pedro in his arms.

“Naw, they love to hate each other.”

“Steaks are on, kids. Scout and her family are already in the backyard.” Dad rounds the corner in one of the few thousands aprons I’ve gifted him with on Father’s Day. “Beer, Oren?”

“Nice to see you too, Pops.” I let go of Oren’s hand and wrap my dad up into a hug.

I can’t remember the last time we had dinner at our house instead of Scout’s. Dad’s chipper, moving about the kitchen, and handing Oren his favorite beer, Miller Genuine Draft. I don’t attempt to tell my dad that Oren’s more of a Crown Royal guy.

My sexy boyfriend rolls up the cuffs of his baby blue button shirt and pops a top with my dad. He’s dressed in a casual sexy fashion in khaki shorts, a button up, and flip-flops. He has every single one of my nerves on high alert right now, making it very freaking awkward in the house I was raised in.

Oren and Dad fall into easy conversation about his baby aka his car. I swear I see my dad’s chest puff out when Oren tells him it runs better than it ever has. I leave the two to chat it up about cars, engines, and all things oil related. The backyard is gorgeous in full bloom with Dad’s flowers and sprouting garden.

“The hooker is here,” Scout announces.

Neither her mom or dad laugh or roll their eyes because it’s Scout. If she would’ve called me by name then we all would’ve been concerned.

“Hey.”

I give all three of them a quick hug and pour myself one of Scout’s margaritas, taking the seat next to her.

“What’s been keeping you busy?” I ask her.

“Netflix and Oreos.”

“Impressive,” I mock.

“And you?” she asks, raising her drink to her lips.

“Just enjoying the sunshine,” I reply.

“And by sunshine, you mean dick.”

I don’t even try to scold her and down my first tart and delicious margarita. Her mom takes care of it, threatening to wash her mouth out with soap. If I had an orgasm for every single time her mom threatened Scout with this I’d be a well-laid whore.

Dad and Oren bust out the backdoor still deep in conversation. Pops now has given Oren a second beer as he’s holding two now. My heart is content watching the two of them from afar. It’s picture perfect and my future.

Scout’s dad gets up and joins the men, which I’m sure is to avoid the two women in his life arguing. Life feels so right in this moment I can hardly stand it.

“You still a virgin?” I whip my head towards Scout, but know it didn’t come from her. Her mom has her head tilted to the side, waiting for an answer. I pour myself another drink before answering her.

“So?” Scout drums her nails on the glass top of the patio set.

“We haven’t yet.” An instant brain freeze hits me as I down over half the glass of yummy goodness.

“Why?” Scout and her mom both fire off in unison.

I only shrug. “We’ve been dating and getting to know each other.”

“Oh, I’d show that boy the ropes,” Scout’s mom says with a dreamy look in her eye. I don’t miss the fact she’s staring at Oren, who’s still near the grill with the guys. He’s beyond dreamy with his dark brown hair, brown eyes, well-built body, and all-American good boy looks. He’s a walking and talking Captain America.

“You’re waiting to fall in love aren’t you?” Scout asks.

I nod. “And I’ve fallen head over heels for the man.”

“Then?” she pries.

“I’m letting him set the pace.”

“Shit. I’m going to have to pull out all the toys tonight,” Scout’s mom huffs out, kicking her sandal up on the table. “He’s handsome and a gentleman. They don’t make ‘em like that anymore, Olivia, he’s a keeper.”

“No shit, she’s right. I’ve been on Tinder and it’s just jam packed with creeps.”

“You’re already on Tinder?” I ask, shocked.

“Yeah, I saw fuckface out with his new woman and figured I need some damn arm candy pronto.”

“Oh, Scout.” Her mom pats her forearm. “You are an idiot.”

“I agree with your mom. Just let it happen.”

Before either of us have a chance to harass Scout further, the men join us. Pops with a plate of piping steaks and Scout’s mom jumping to uncover her famous macaroni salad and a few others, I scoot the chair out for Oren to sit by me and he does.

“Your dad won’t quit giving me beers.”

“I’ve downed three margaritas now courtesy of Scout and inquiring minds.”

Oren leans over and kisses my forehead. Silence bathes the table and I know all eyes are on us. “Thank you.”

Oren’s never extended an explanation on his family situation and I know it means a lot to him bringing him to my home. I warned him about our modge podge situation and he never blinked an eye before throwing himself into our vortex.

“I love you,” I whisper into his ear. It’s the first I’ve spoken those three words to him and it only seems perfect in this situation set in the backyard I grew up in.

All eyes hone in even more on us and I feel Oren squeeze my hand. He doesn’t need to answer me back. He’s the reason I was brave enough to let the words slip off my tongue.

Dad passes the steak around and just like any other night when our families come together, we all fall into a comfortable conversation. The food is delicious and the drinks float around the table. Dad makes sure Oren’s beer bottle never goes empty. It’s the happy pitch to his voice and the giddy-up in his go that I know he’s prouder than a pig in shit.

“Next week is our annual camping trip,” Pops announces.

“I hear the fishing is like no other this year up in the mountains,” Scout’s dad replies, slugging his beer and then belching.

The conversation rolls on and then the awkward silence moment ensues as all eyes are on us once again.

“Olivia.” Dad strums the side of his beer bottle.

“I’ll be there. It’s tradition, right?”

As if kittens were being slayed and unicorns dehorned, the atmosphere morphs into an alien anal situation.

Dad nods as his nails strum the bottle faster as the rest of the audience is on the edge of their seats.

“I’ll bring the s'mores stuff like always.”

And then the cat and mouse game ensues, I just wait for the first one to take the bait. Scout’s mom is out as she excuses herself, taking everyone’s plate into the house and starts dishes.

Dad starts several sentences and never is able to finish any of them. I had my money on Scout and she comes through like a true thoroughbred champ.

“Okay, is Mr. Lady Boner camping or not? I mean, like how serious is this shit?” Scout crosses her arms and stares me down. “I mean, is he in or not?”

Scout knows damn well her question leads in so many other directions, but her don’t give a shit attitude screams across the table.

“No hablo Inglais, Culo."

“I teach fifth grade and listen to Pitbull. I’m fully aware that culo means asshole.”

“Good job, asshole.” I smirk back at Scout, tossing a stray olive from my plate.

“I took the week off. Olivia invited me awhile back.”

“Jerk.” I elbow Oren in the ribs. “We had them going.”

“It was making my eye twitch how awkward it was becoming.”

“Deal.” Pops slaps his hand down on the table. “I’ll get our camper rigged up for all three of us.”

Shit, fuck, bitch. Well no dunking the doughnut with Oren in the wilderness will be happening now.

Oren squeezes my hand under the table with more force this time. I swear he’s not a cop, but a damn mind reader. I down a few more drinks until Scout and her family skidaddle back home leaving Oren, Pops, and myself under the stars. Scout’s mom has cleaned everything, even tidying the grill area. The woman is amazing.

Pops and Oren talk about old cars, engines, and everything else between brake pads. Pops even engages in an argument about the car Oren patrols in.

“Boys, I’m going to check on the dogs. Anyone need anything?” I stand from the table and step towards the lit back porch.

“Two more brewskis for the boy and I.”

“Got it, Pops, two kicks to Oscar and two more beers coming right up.” I make my way to the back porch, but don’t miss a word he speaks.

“She hates that damn dog. I know I should, shit he’s bit me a dozen times when I’ve tried saving his ass, but Oscar filled that spot when Olivia moved out, you know.”

Oren’s baritone voice floats away in the night sky when I swing open the backdoor. Both dogs are knocked out in Pop’s La-Z-Boy recliner. I snag my favorite hoodie from high school and hike it over my head, as the night air has turned chilly.

The two men are still deep in conversation over some damn engine as I trot down the steps with two chilled long necks in my hand. Oren spots and signals no with his glance, but would never disrespect my dad. I swear the last of his beer ended up on my toes as he gracefully poured it under the table and then sipped my drink.

When I plop back down, I don’t land in my chair, but in Oren’s lap; he tenses up and I know it’s because of my dad. Me, on the other hand don’t give a shit, I pour the rest of the margarita into my glass and hand it over my shoulder to Oren and then begin sipping his beer.

The conversation goes on forever about hemis, transmissions, and corn fuel. None of it affects me and I have to bite my lip to hold back a few comments where I know for a fact they’re wrong. It’s from all the billing and parts I’ve seen float through the office. I let men be men and melt back into Oren.

After he realizes my father isn’t going to behead him, he plays along with me, wrapping his safe arms around me. I’m not sure how I’ve fallen for him so fast, but all I do know is life wouldn’t be the same without him. Countless nights tossing in my Macy’s sheets, wondering if I’m just the next McSlut on his menu have proven me wrong. I’m at a ripe age and he’s embraced every single awkwardly screwed up moment in my life from butt sex porn to ripping a world record fart in front of him. Oren never lets me live it down, but it’s almost like he embraces me more for it.

“I’m going to bed, kids.” Pops slams down his empty long neck on the glass top.

“I think we’re going to stay here tonight, Old Man,” I reply.

It wasn’t planned or even thought out, but we’ve both drank enough along with my Pops that he needs supervision.

“You know where your bed is, Firecracker.”

“Love you, too.”

The screen door slams shut and he disappears into the house. My dad loves to talk and entertain the next person, but when he’s at his limit, he’ll let you know.

I swivel in Oren’s lap until I’m face to face with him. “I bet there’s more beer in the fridge. Want me to sneak a bottle out for you?”

“So damn witty all the time, Olivia.” His fingers dig into my ass through my shorts.

“I’ll mix you a drink,” I offer.

“I think I know exactly where to stick my tongue to get the perfect drink.”

My hips buck on cue with his words. “Oh really, where is that?”

Yard lights flip on, causing me to bound back into the harsh edge of the table. Moments later, Scout prances into the backyard, sending every single motion sensored light to high alert.

“Your dick out, Oren?”

“Nope, successful cock block,” he hollers back over my shoulder.

“Perfect. I have more margaritas.”

“Cock block excused.” Oren pours himself a glass of the tarty liquid and then relaxes back. I remain calm, sipping from a beer.

“I can’t stand it,” Scout exclaims and then guzzles the pitcher. “I can’t fucking stay there any longer and I don’t want to go back to my apartment where Taylor and I have so many memories. I really thought…” She breaks off, not able to finish her thought, but I know exactly what she was going to say.

“I did, too.” I cover the top of her hand with mine. “I did, too, Scout.”

“It fucking sucks and if you break my sister’s heart I’ll…”

I stop her before she finishes.

“Scout, move in with me. It’s dumb we have separate places.”

“O, I’m not messing up what you have since you’ve never had any.”

“By all means, thanks for pointing that out.” I swat her shoulder, sloshing some beer on her. I feel Oren steady me a bit. “Move in with me.”

“Do I have to share a bed with Pedro?”

“Depends,” I respond. “If you’re a good girl.”

“Fuck off.”

“Move in with me and split rent. I have a spare room. I can’t promise if Pedro will pee on you or hump you, but you won’t be alone.”

“We’ve never lived together after college because I hump too much.”

“Yeah, I won’t argue that, Slut Wagon. You’ve worn down more mattresses than…”

“I get it. I get it.” Scout waves me off. “I’m going back home.”

“Should I help her?” Oren whispers in my ear. “I need to help her.”

He has me on my feet and standing before Scout even pushes open the gate between our houses.

“She’s fine, hun, unless we hear a loud thump then we know she ate shit on the flower pot, again.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, worried about her safety.

“Go do your cop thing and flash lights and everything else. She’s fine. It’s not her first rodeo.”

“Should she have thumped by now?”

I laugh and then reassuringly pat his chest. “Yes, by now she’s in her bed and fast asleep. Trust me.”

“Well, shit, my buzz has worn off.”

“Mine too,” I say with a giggle. “But I know where more alcohol is.”