Page 51 of When We Had Forever
With a shrug, I locate his latest book and carry it to the bedroom along with his mug. It’s Wednesday, and while he took a vacation day yesterday, he’s scheduled to go back to work this morning. Still, he can probably squeeze in his fifty pages before leaving.
When I set his dual sustenance on the nightstand, he cracks open an eye. I pause, searching for...I don’t know, exactly. Whatever went missing yesterday.
He smiles. Not with his usual wattage, but close. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“If it isn’t my live-in guardian angel,” he says. “Come here.”
The moment we touch, a spark flares and burns its way down to my center. Within minutes, we’re locked together, sweating, writhing, colliding. Sounds emerge from my mouth I’ve never made before. The rest of the world falls away.
There’s Michael, and there’s me, and then, with him buried in me, there isn’t even that anymore, just us together, a single entity that blazes with such ferocity that all else ceases to exist.
Afterward, Michael sits up and rolls his shoulders, his golden hair all askew. He looks sated, like a man made new by the act of losing himself. “I think I’ll work from home today.”
“Really? I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Not usually. But they won’t mind if it’s just this once.” He reaches for his coffee, then grimaces on the first sip. He tries to mask the reaction, but I’m too focused on him to miss it.
“What?” I say from my tangled nest of sheets. “Don’t you like it with sugar?”
“Not this much. But it’s okay, I’ll make another one. And can I use your phone? I’ll replace mine this afternoon, but I need to let work know I won’t be in.”
I unlock my cell and hand it over before he totes my too-sweet offering to the kitchen. I overhear a brief conversation explaining he’ll be available by email today. He putters around for a bit, then he’s back, tossing my phone onto the mattress and sipping from a fresh mug.
He’s stark naked, but I don’t look down. I search his face, soaking in every flicker of those dark gold eyelashes.
My stomach sinks. Yesterday’s distance is diminished, but still there. Some part of him has pulled back just enough to brush with outstretched fingertips, but not fold within my grasp.
Jesus, I think, catching myself. How unforgivably selfish to dwell on myself when this must be a thousand times harder for him. A woman oncediedbecause of him, and his relationship with his brother has fallen apart because of it. Now the reminder has left fresh, shadowed footprints all over him. Not to mention that this constitutes his first day of sobriety.
The least I can do is help him deal.
I gesture to his book. “Do you want to do your reading now?”
He glances at the nightstand, unmoved. “No. I’d much rather spend the day in bed. With you.”
“Really?” That coaxes a smile from me. “Breaking the military routine? I didn’t think I’d ever see the day.”
He takes a long draft of coffee. “I happen to have a very good reason. And she’s lying in my bed, looking incredibly sultry right now.”
That revives my spirits, and I lift the sheet in invitation. He abandons his mug and crawls in, and at the moment of joining, I breathe a sigh, because by then, no space exists between us at all.
In the afternoon, someone knocks on our door.
We’re on the couch, naked, having never actually made it into clothes at all, when Michael jerks up from kissing my belly button.
The knock comes again. “Who’s that?” I say.
“I don’t know.” His eyebrows snap low over his eyes. “I’ll go check. You stay here.”
I frown. I can’t imagine who would show up unannounced on a Wednesday afternoon, but I obediently hunker into the couch, hiding my nudity from whoever’s in the hallway.
Michael grabs a throw pillow to shield himself with and goes to the door.
“Hey, Mr. Drake.” I recognize the baritone boom of our downstairs doorman, the one who looks like a UFC champion but apparently obsesses over chess in his spare time. “Oh. Um...sorry. Should I...come back?”
“Hey, Juan.” Michael sounds relieved. “No, it’s fine. What can I do for you?”
