Daisy puts her fork down and slides herself toward me. My hands slide up her legs as she moves. I don’t hesitate to make sure my fingers go under her panties and use my hands as leverage to bring her closer.
“I have pictures, but no real memories. I have some things that I made up from the photos and stories I’ve heard, but I don’t remember them.”
“I’m sorry,” I say for lack of a better response. I lean forward and kiss the tip of her nose. Daisy rests her forehead against mine while her fingers play in my hair. My hands move from her ass to her waist and I hold her against me with my arms wrapped around her. As much as I want to think otherwise, I know I’ve already fallen for this girl in front of me.
She kisses me quickly and as much as I want to hold her mouth to mine and not let go, I do. This isn’t the time or place to start making out, especially since I just asked about her parents. Daisy puts her head in the crook of my neck and sighs.
“I should be getting home,” she mumbles, effectively ruining any chance of her waking up in my arms. It’s for the best though. If I had her in bed I’d be on my knees begging her to let me take her. It’d be a selfish move on my part, but I’ve been walking around with a raging hard on since I’ve met her, so I can’t help it.
“For the record, I want you to stay.” She looks up and smiles.
“Someday, I’d like that, but not tonight. I didn’t make arrangements with the nurse and can’t leave my grandpa alone at night.”
“It’s okay, I understand.” I try to fix her hair, but learn quickly that I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I help her down and hold her hand as we walk back into the bedroom. My bed mocks me, reminding me that I’ll be sleeping in it alone tonight. That fact shouldn’t bother me except I had my hopes up that Daisy would spend the night.
Daisy excuses herself to get dressed in the bathroom and I use the opportunity to change out of my tuxedo pants and into some sweats. I plan to put on the shirt that she’s wearing so I can feel like she’s near me after she leaves. When she comes out, she looks almost as good as she did earlier, but I see the difference. Her hair isn’t as perfect and her lips are slightly redder. She comes to me and I brush my thumb over her bottom lip, wondering if my whiskers hurt her.
“It’s worth it,” she says, holding my hand to her face. She moves my thumb slightly, kissing the pad before linking her fingers with mine. “You should probably put a shirt on. It’s cold out.”
“I was planning on wearing the one you had on.”
“Why? It probably smells like me.”
“Exactly!” I wink and take my shirt out of her hand, putting it on. I go back to holding her hand because it feels good and I want to.
We walk outside and the early spring air is frigid. I shiver, forgetting to grab a sweatshirt, and run us down the stairs and to my car. I help her in before sprinting to the driver’s side. I start the engine and crank up the heat, flipping the switch for the heated seats to come on while both of us shake from the cold.
“I’m an idiot. I should’ve grabbed you a jacket.”
“It’s okay, the car will warm-up in a minute.”
I reach over the console and pull her into my arms. Science class taught me that body-to-body friction is the best way to combat the cold. Also nakedness, but I don’t see her letting me take her dress off. It’s only a matter of seconds before my butt starts getting warm from the seat and warm air is blowing in from the vents. I hate to let her go, but getting her home to her grandfather is her priority and I’m not about to put her in a position to choose. I can wait.
The drive to her apartment takes only seven minutes due to the lack of traffic this late at night, or early in the morning, depending on how you look at it. I park along the street in the no parking zone closest to her door and jump out, racing to the other side so I can open the door for her. It’s evident that any guy she dated before me never opened her doors. She needs to get used to me doing this for her. It’s the way I was raised.
I’m sure her neighborhood is safe considering Boston’s finest take pride in every neighborhood they work, but I’m still leery and hold her hand until we’re at the front door of her building. I stand behind her while she unlocks the door and step in with her.
“Do you think the elevator is working?”
“You don’t have to come up,” she says, standing on the first step. Even now, with her heels on, I still have the height advantage.
“It’s not that I don’t want to walk you to your door, I just thought we could make out in the elevator.”
Daisy laughs and pulls me up the stairs. It’s nice to see the tenants are quieter now than they were when I came to pick her up earlier.
“Our luck, we’d get stuck and the fire department would have to come. If they showed up, we’d be all over the news and the BoRe Blogger would have a field day with you.”
“Ugh, don’t get me started on that site.”
“That bad, huh?” she asks as we reach her floor.
I shrug and lean my arm against her wall as she unlocks her door. “Like I said before, some of the shit that gets posted isn’t accurate and it’s hard to have a life when he’s always lurking. I’d like to meet him and give him a piece of my mind.”
“He? What makes you so certain it’s a guy?”
“Because all the women love me,” I tease, pressing my lips to hers. The kiss is chaste, but lingering. I cup her face with my hand and hold her as long as possible. When she pulls away, she covers her lips briefly.
“I need to go,” she says as we hear rustling behind the door.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Sweet dreams and Happy Birthday, Daisy.” I brush my lips against her cheek and turn away. Each step is more difficult than the last, and while part of me wants to turn around and go back to her, the other part wants to nurture whatever this is between us and see where it goes.
Boston’s beloved Renegades are falling!
What the hell happened?
We’re five games into a nine game home stand and things are not looking good, people. It’s time to put your rally caps on and start yelling at these guys. Come on, we pay good money for our tickets. At least they can show up!
Of course with the Yankees in town, the Renegades cower in the corner. Listen guys, the “curse” is dead. It’s long gone! Stop letting them win. Maybe Curt Shilling needs to remind us what the bloody sock looks like… that is if he weren’t suspended from broadcasting right now.
Down in the minors, centerfielder, Cooper Bailey, is looking fantastic and batting .393. The prediction is that he’ll be called up soon, rather than waiting for Bainbridge to retire or ask for a trade.
We, in the Renegade community, are thankful that our runs batted in are still (somewhat) higher than the runs we’re giving up – 154 / 139.
Silver lining, folks, we gotta find it!
GOSSIP WIRE:
It took much digging, but I’ve been able to unearth the identity of Mr. Ethan Davenport’s girlfriend. Yes, even though he has yet to confirm that they’re dating, taking her to the Rotary dinner was HUGE and didn’t go unnoticed by anyone. The young woman occupying Boston’s Most Eligible Bachelor’s time is none other than University of Boston’s Daisy Robinson. We wish her luck!
Travis Kidd was spotted at the Chevy Dealership the other day. Why is this news? Well, because his father owns a Ford Dealership. I think Thanksgiving may be a bit awkward in the Kidd house this year.