I’ll give her some privacy, but I’m uneasy. She fires off a text; I hear the swoosh as it goes. She quickly sends off another one. Her eyes meet mine.
“Shower time?”
I hesitate, my brain wanting to ask about the second text.
He’s in New York.
He’s not here.
I am.
If he shows up, I’ll deal with him.
Holding out my hand for her to come with me, she smiles and takes it. No argument, no fuss, and no question. She’s mine today and if I have a say, every day from here forward.
I can’t remember the last time it rained this hard. It makes me uneasy. I’ve never liked the rain; I think it’s sad and depressing and makes me never want to leave my house. It rained the day my dad died. The streets flooded, schools were cancelled, and most people stayed home from work. It rarely ever rains this hard, but today feels just like it did three years ago, the day I closed my dad’s eyes and the morgue took him away.
Matt called this morning. He must have some sort of telepathic ability the way he calls and shows up at exactly the right moment to throw me. I’m not going to let him get to me today. I promised Damian I’d give us a shot, and I’m going to stick to that promise.
The shower helped, but now that I’m home, grabbing my own coffee mug, the tension is slipping back in. How do we do this? I know he doesn’t do casual, but what exactly is he looking for?
I’m staring in my cupboard figuring out which mug feels like the best one for this situation when my phone rings with that song again. Damn Matt and his terrible timing. I decline the call, and silently high five myself for not answering.
As my eyes scan the variety of inappropriate coffee mugs, an anxious feeling that my life is about to get slightly complicated settles over me and I think I need some sound advice.
“You better be ready to spill some details this time.”
I laugh at the sound of Paige’s voice.
“All I’m going to say is it’s a good thing our two apartments are the only ones in this building. If we had any other neighbors we would have kept them up all night.”
She sighs, “Damn, I knew that boy had stamina.”
“Boy is definitely not the description I’d give him.”
“So why are you calling me instead of spending the day in his bed?”
Good question. “Because I’m a little freaked out. This is my first . . . I don’t even know what to call it, since Matt. I’m not sure exactly what to expect or how to act.”
I can sense her smile through the phone. “You act like you.”
“That sounds too easy.”
“Because it is. Damian already told you he’s not looking for casual, he’s known you for a few months and clearly he likes what he’s seen. Keep doing what you’re doing, the rest will fall into place.”
That makes sense. I can do that. “Thanks, I have no idea why I’m suddenly so insecure about this.”
“It’s new. Until you spend a few days like this you’re going to have some hesitancy.”
“You should be a couples therapist, Paige.”
“Uh, no thanks. Keep me posted.”
“Of course.”
A mug catches my eye that I haven’t used in a long time, and I decide it’s perfect. I grab it, throw on a pair of yoga pants and sweatshirt and leave for Damian’s place, my confidence back in tack.
“Fill’er up, Offside.” I hold my mug out for him.
He grabs it from my hand and cracks up. This was one of my dad’s favorites. It always embarrassed me to death, but it is so appropriate for this morning. “Help wanted, many positions available?” People in a multitude of sexual positions cover the white ceramic; some of them we’ve tackled, many we haven’t come close to.
Placing the empty coffee mug down on the counter, he cups my face in his big strong hands and kisses me. A panty melting, fuck the coffee and take me back to bed kiss. Small moans escape the back of my throat, and I try to wrap my legs around him. Even after the hours of sexual activity and the insane number of orgasms, I could start all over again. He pulls back slightly and smiles. “I think this is my favorite mug. Can I keep it?”
“No.”
“Well, we’re keeping it in the bedroom, making sure we try every one of these positions in the next few weeks, maybe days.” He kisses me again, and all I can think about is the future he keeps mentioning, and it makes me happy. I like talking futures with Damian, even if our talk only consists of our future sex life.
“Can I have my coffee now?” I’m backed against his counter, and he’s officially placed himself between my legs. I can feel his length begin to grow, and I’m not opposed to another round of mind blowing, middle of the day sex. But I need my coffee first and probably something to eat.
My stomach growls, and he smiles against my lips.
Taking a step back, he pours the black liquid into my mug then hands it to me with a warm croissant. I hold the flaky pastry between my fingers and give him a curious look.
“I grabbed a few from the nursing station at the hospital yesterday. It’s all I’ve got at the moment.”
He reaches for his own mug, and I begin to laugh. “You are not going to drink that around me.”
Ignoring me, he pours coffee into a mug that says ‘Dirty Bird’ with a picture of a Peacock prominent on the side. He takes a big sip, sighs out loud then locks his stare with mine. Stepping into my zone, he kisses me on the nose. “The mug stays.”
He kisses my nose one more time and grabs my hand, leading me out to the balcony.
I follow, my coffee and croissant balanced in one hand, as my other is secure in his big grasp. It’s still raining, and it’s cold. Like fifty degrees cold, which for a girl who was born and raised in Southern California might as well mean it’s snowing. But the overhang that covers both our balconies is protecting us from the rain, and it’s nice to be in the fresh air.
Sitting back in his big blue lounge chair, he pulls me down between his legs, my favorite spot in the universe. Nestled right here, my back to his front, his arms wrapped around me. I love this position and even if it were zero degrees outside, this is exactly where I’d want to be.
“Are you going to tell me why Matt called you at six this morning?” My body stills, the only movement the breath coming in and out of my lungs as I attempt to breathe.
I feel guilty, like I’ve been caught cheating, even though I’ve done nothing wrong. But the truth is, I didn’t want Damian to know Matt was still calling me, and I’m uncomfortable having this conversation. Not sure where I stand in Damian’s heart, I’m hesitant to give too much away.
“How do you know he called?”
“I heard it ring right after you fell asleep. It’s hard to miss that ring tone. Is there a reason you don’t want me to know he still contacts you?”
Is there a reason? There must be. I’m not ashamed of my life, it’s mine, the only one I have, and I think I’ve done okay given the circumstances I’ve been thrown into. But I don’t want Matt and Damian colliding. I want to keep them as separate entities, not comparing one to the other. I don’t want Damian worrying that Matt is going to suddenly appear in my life and whisk me away.
“What would the point have been?”
He’s silent, his mug resting on the arm of the chair, his chin grazing the top of my head. His chest expands a few times and I think he’s going to talk, but he doesn’t. I want to know what he’s thinking I want to have this conversation, but I don’t want to fight about Matt. He’s not Damian’s problem—he’s mine. I’m about to tell him this when he finally speaks.
“I don’t want you dating other people, Addison. I want you for myself.”
That is something I could get on board with, but I need more. “What about you?”