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I was relieved the subject of sex between them hadn't come up. Yet, there was still a hint of uneasiness, mixed with the unexpected potential that anything, good or disastrous, might descend upon us. Each time I'd hear Linda's voice rise in awe of Michael, I'd imagine his cock in her, and her unbridled joy of its length and girth. The linguini rushed past al dente as my imagination boiled alongside it.Our dinner seemed to be a hit with Michael; as much as he liked my main course, he heaped praise on Linda for her chocolate-cognac cake. A few humorous stories about Linda and Michael's college days here and there kept the conversation light, but still reminded me of when and where they first fucked. There was an air of sensual familiarity between them that I viewed with equal amounts of arousal and caution; it was mostly the way Linda gazed at him when he spoke, or touched his arm when she laughed with him. Or, maybe it was just the wine going to my head.Later, after we moved to more. "Hi, Ben."I didn't bother with pleasantries. "Where is she?" I asked, my voice cracking."In her room." I looked up the stairs and felt a wave of nostalgia come back to me. It was the same house Dawn had grown up in when we were kids, and while everything looked a little smaller to me now, it was still familiar.I started for the stairs while Dawn's mom touched my shoulder. "You must be hungry." Grabbed a snack at a gas station," I bit out and turned for the stairs."You should clean up. I'm sure some of Jack's clothes will fit you."Feeling the weight of true love behind my eyes, I slowly turned towards Dawn's mother and stared straight at her, the intensity of my gaze giving her all the answer she needed.Deanna Evans bit her lip and nodded, and I went up the stairs.Dawn was still asleep when I pushed her door open. She looked so small and frail, curled up into a little ball. Her slumber was fitful as she twitched and shivered, her eyes squinting shut and her lips curled into a grimace.
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